After breakfast, Durkhanai went to find Asfandyar. However, on the way, she ran into another.

“Shehzadi Durkhanai, I’m glad to have found you,” Rashid said, smiling sweetly at her. “May I join you?”

When she nodded, he matched his strides to hers. “I wished to speak with you about a most curious matter. Last night, it seems medicine was distributed in a village. Some sort of guardian angel placed them in the homes of the ill, along with instructions. I was wondering if you knew anything about it?”

Rashid looked at her with wonder. He was thinking it might have been her. She could divulge the secret to him and earn his favor, strengthening their bond from acquaintance into friendship.

As princess, it was Durkhanai’s duty to always think of her people first.

But she couldn’t help but think about last night, how fresh it still was in her mind.

The stars in Asfandyar’s eyes.

She saw him as clearly as though he were right there. She wished to reach out, to hold a hand to his face as she had the night prior, feel his beard against her palm.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

“That is wonderful news!” she said to Rashid, forcing surprise into her voice. “But I must confess, I know nothing about it. Perhaps a local physician expended their own resources to do so.”

Disappointment flashed across Rashid’s face.

“So . . . it was not you?”

Durkhanai released a little laugh. “How I wish it was, but I’m afraid I was asleep here in the palace. Surely you would not expect a princess to sneak into the night like a miscreant, handing out medicine?”

“No, I suppose I would not,” Rashid said. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Durkhanai did not want him to ask too many questions, to be too curious. She could not have Dhadi finding out she was the so-called “guardian angel.”

“I must go, now,” Durkhanai said, touching his arm. “But I hope to see you again soon.”

She walked away from Rashid and toward another. Asfandyar was in the courtyard, staring at his reflection in a fountain. He stood so still, staring. She wondered what he saw. She nearly asked, but the moment she approached, the pensive, sad expression he wore was swiftly exchanged for one of amusement.

“Shehzadi Durkhanai, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, smirking.

“Ambassador,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. She reminded herself that the only reason she was working with Asfandyar was so that he could leave; it was a necessity.

And once he was gone, she could focus on Rashid more. Her inevitable engagement.

“You look well,” he said, looking her up and down. “I take it you got a good night’s rest?”

But the way he said made it seem something unscrupulous, something she wouldn’t want others to overhear. She gave him a pointed look.