“Which is why you must decide carefully,” Durkhanai told her grandparents. “Won’t a tribunal result in the war we have so delicately tried to avoid? Jardum will not be pleased.”

“That is of no consequence, now,” the Badshah said, shaking his head. “The other tribes have no quarrels with Marghazar, and Jardum is not strong enough to wage a war on its own. Besides, they will hardly go to war over an irrelevant ambassador who shouldn’t have forgotten his place.”

“Cancel the tribunal,” she insisted again. “Punish him some other way; negotiate something with Jardum. This is barbaric—holding a man to trial for his feelings.”

“He has beguiled you away from your senses,” the Badshah said, voice hard. “He tricked you into doubting your own blood, distracted and fooled you, yet you still fight for him. He is to be held to tribunal for sorcery, not only his feelings for you.”

“No!” Durkhanai cried. “He hasn’t done anything! Let him go.”

“Word has already been given,” the Badshah told her. “It is too late.”

“You are the Badshah!” she argued, angry. “You can do whatever you please. You could cancel this tribunal, if you wished it. Just as you said, the decision lies with the crown.”

“You are right,” the Badhshah replied. “But I do not wish it. I wish for that man to be held accountable for his deeds. Only then will you be safe.”

“Why do you hate him so?” she cried. Her grandparents exchanged a glance that said she would never understand, and she recalled how the Badshah had called Asfandyar a servant all those months ago, how the Wali had done the same all those years ago.

“You cannot abhor a man for his race,” Durkhanai said, but her voice wavered. Who was she to lecture her grandparents? It went against everything she had learned about respecting her elders, but their behavior was not right, either. She steadied her voice.

“It is not the Prophet’s way,” she added. “It is a sin.”

Agha-Jaan shook his head.

“Of course we do not blame him for his color,” he said. “But he is a foreigner.”

“You cannot detest a man for being a foreigner either!”

“That is enough!” Agha-Jaan snapped. Durkhanai jolted. “We will not be lectured at by a child.”

“He is a liar and a spy,” Dhadi added. “He used you and beguiled you from your senses. Surely, you must see that. You must.”

She saw it all, but she could not bear to see him go to trial.

“Agha-Jaan, please,” Durkhanai pleaded. “Cancel the tribunal. Send him far away. I’ll never see him again. Just please don’t force his fate thus.”

“Sending people away has done us no good,” Agha-Jaan replied, shaking his head. “Wakdar was sent away, and look at what it has brought us.”