He raised his brows at her.

“Maybe this is slightly inappropriate,” she conceded. Especially considering how thin these clothes were: she could feel the curvy outline of her body against the silken fabric, and from the way Asfandyar looked at her, he clearly could, too.

“But,” she continued, pulling her shawl tighter, trying not to smile, “the people need medicine, and I have medicine to give them. Now, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?”

She pouted for good measure. He rolled his eyes and snorted.

“I’ll help, but only because you’re entirely hopeless without me,” he said. “You’re welcome, by the way. Maybe this will convince you we really ought to be allies after all.”

He gave her a grin and took the bag from her hands. Which was lucky, since it was getting heavy. At least all his muscles weren’t just for show.

“Acha, zaada mat bano,” she told him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. But thank you, nonetheless.”

“Of course, princess,” he said, giving a dramatic bow.

“Are you done?” she asked. “We ought to get going soon.”

“With the dramatics? Never.”

She gave him a pointed look.

“Before we go, you’re going to need to change,” he pressed. “That outfit is much too distracting.”

Durkhanai raised a brow. She could have sworn she saw Asfandyar ears turn the same pink as her blouse.

“To the public, of course,” he stuttered, clearing his throat. “Pink silk? It’s a sure way to be found out.”

She bit back a smile.

“Go on!” he insisted. “I’ll meet you in the library in ten minutes.” Asfandyar put his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward the door.

“Acha! Kya hai? I’m going,” she said.

But his hands did feel lovely on her shoulders, especially through the very thin silk. She was beginning to appreciate her night attire much more.

Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. It must be the late hour. Her thoughts were getting out of hand.

When she reached her room to look for something to wear, she realized she had nothing that wasn’t absurd or ridiculous attire for clandestine night outings. How inconvenient.

After rummaging around for some time, she finally found a cotton lawn sleeping outfit, but even that had chikankari embroidery on it. She slipped the chaadar across her head. At least she was able to find a woolen loi. The thick shawl would cover her mostly. She put on her riding shoes and headed out, but not before checking her braid to ensure she looked as beautiful as she always did.

“Hai Allah, you take forever,” Asfandyar said, when she entered the library.

“Am I at least less distracting now?”

Asfandyar didn’t respond, just shook his head at her.

“Let’s go,” he said. “We haven’t much time before fajr, when the villagers will be awake. What was your plan of escape?”