Yet, they had kept this from her. They did not truly trust her in this, either.

The sense of authority she had crumbled. Perhaps all it really had been was a falsified sense of authority, to begin with. Just enough information to make her feel as though she knew everything, when in truth, she knew very little.

It hurt. And it didn’t make sense. Why not give out all the medicine they had?

Durkhanai wanted to ask her grandmother outright but stopped herself. Perhaps Dhadi would hide the medicine again, and then it would be of no use to anyone.

But why hide it at all? Durkhanai was sure Dhadi had a good reason, but she wouldn’t risk it by bringing it up, not at such a critical moment for the people down in the villages, not after what Naeem-sahib had implied. Her grandparents might not take her seriously on these matters, either, and then she would fail the very people relying on her.

And how had Asfandyar known?

Maybe Gulalai and Saifullah were right: Asfandyar was dangerous.

Right then, she needed to focus on the medicine. She needed clarification.

“Doctor-sahiba,” she called, peeking her head into the head doctor’s office. The doctor immediately got up and lowered her head in respect, touching her fingers to her forehead.

“Shehzadi,” the doctor responded.

“Doctor Aliyah,” Durkhanai said. “There is an illness spreading through the villages. Would you be able to locate some medicine for me?”

“The Wali has informed me,” the doctor replied. “We are already working on finding the proper medicine and distributing it. Don’t fret, Shehzadi.”

“Yes, but I would still like to see where the medicine is held.” She paused to clarify. “Rather, which exact medicine will be used.”

“We are still modifying the precise concoction. No doubt the Wali would not wish to worry you.” Doctor Aliyah reassured Durkhanai with a confident smile. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

She left before Durkhanai could press further. It felt like a ruse. She left the office with a pout. She had found medicine, but didn’t know what to use, and Doctor Aliyah was only prescribing through Dhadi.

She needed to take matters into her own hands. She was the princess, after all. She remembered the villager’s sadness, their fright, and it was all she needed to devise a quick plan.

She peeked through the infirmary, plucking a young doctor in training from the room. He was a year younger than her with crooked glasses and frazzled eyes.

“Yes, Shehzadi?” he asked, blinking quickly. She gave out an exaggerated cough, melting her face into one of pain.

“I don’t feel so well,” she told him. “I think I have a fever.”

She leaned against the wall dramatically, closing her eyes and moaning. It had the desired effect: his face crumpled in despair.

“I will alert Doctor Aliyah immediately!” he assured her. Durkhanai caught his arm, gave it a squeeze. The boy froze.