The guards paid her no attention. They went straight to Asfandyar, who was standing motionless, and grabbed his arms.

He didn’t even fight.

Something inside of her broke seeing the guards seize him. She knew what this meant.

“Release him,” she ordered. The guards did not react.

“As your crown princess, I order you to release this man this instant,” she hissed, drawing her full height before the guards. No matter that she was falling apart. She was to be queen of this land—she would have her respect.

“Apologies, Shehzadi,” the guard responded, not meeting her eyes. “The orders came directly from the Badshah. This man is to be arrested and stand trial by tribunal.”

Tribunal.

The fatal question.

No.

“On what charges?” she demanded, heart quickening.

Finally, the guard met her gaze. She saw shame embedded deep, deep within. But even further, she saw disappointment. Lost hope.

A fallen princess.

“For loving you.”

No, no, no.

“This is absurd,” she seethed, but the guards paid no heed. Finally, she looked to Asfandyar; all the fight had left him.

“Deny the charges,” she snapped, grabbing him by his kurta. “Tell them it isn’t true.”

She loved him, she loved him. The words burned in her mouth. Oh, what a fool she had been.

“I will never lie to you again,” he swore.

She watched with horror as they took him away.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Saifullah’s Tale

Saifullah watched as Asfandyar was taken away.

He couldn’t help the satisfaction that ran through him, bordering even joy. The only thing that tainted his pleasure was the look on Durkhanai’s face.

She loved him; he saw it clear as day. How aggrieved she was to see him taken away like the criminal he was.

His poor, beloved cousin. What a fool she was.

Saifullah did feel a little guilty, he had to admit. All of this could have been avoided, from a certain point of view, but from another, it was as inevitable as a rainstorm. Yes, the devastation seemed great, but it was only after the rain that the earth could flourish.

It was Saifullah who had informed his grandparents of Durkhanai and Asfandyar’s love affair.

“Saifullah!” Agha-Jaan had cried, face florid with fury. “Mind your tongue.”

“Do you think I wish to utter such a thing?” Saifullah had replied. “I tell you only so you can stop her. If you do not believe me, send guards to Asfandyar’s rooms now. See if he is alone.”

Saifullah had been embarrassed to even say such a thing, in truth. His ears had burned with shame at the thought of Durkhanai with Asfandyar at such an indecent hour, and his heart felt scorched with anger. But he had known Durkhanai would be there in the hours before Asfandyar’s departure.

Silently, he had hoped she wouldn’t, but she had been. It made Saifullah sick, truly, what his cousin had become.