“It was necessary,” Durkhanai said, voice compassionate. “When medicine is made in such large supply, there is easy room for error—for impurities. We wanted to make absolutely sure the medicine was right before sending it to you all—wanted to make sure it would help you rather than make you feel worse. We only risked it for the sickest among you, when it was better to try something than nothing.”

Guilt nudged her insides, but she told herself this was necessary. This was no time for the people to be losing their trust in the Badshah or their Shehzadi. It was better for them, anyhow, not to know all the gory details.

What good would knowing do? Durkhanai knew and all it had done was leave her even more confused. But she had blood binding her to the Badshah; her loyalty would never waver. She could not guarantee the same for the people.

“I assure you,” Durkhanai said, projecting her voice loud and clear. “Now that all the medicine has been tested and prepped, relief efforts will be intensified. I will personally work to bring about the swift recovery of all those afflicted.”

They spent some time in the village, talking to the people, and by the time Durkhanai made it back to the palace, she was in desperate need of chai and a warm bath. Her heart raced with apprehension as she walked her halls, hoping to and not to run into Asfandyar as she often did, but she hushed her thoughts.

This was her palace. She did not need to avoid anyone.

Durkhanai made it back to her room with her head held high and freshened up for court. She swapped her lighter, traveling jewelry, for heavier sets. She changed out of her shalwar kameez into an emerald green zardozi lengha choli, the long skirt trailing behind her as she walked toward the courtyard.

“Shehzadi!” a voice called. She turned to see Rashid catching up to her.

“Come, let’s sit,” Rashid said, eyes glittering. “Rest—you need to take care of yourself.”

Durkhanai smiled fondly, easing into the soft comfort that Rashid’s company brought. He felt so familiar, like a warm shahtoosh shawl wrapped around her heart, keeping her snug.

“So, how has your day been?” Rashid asked, as they sat on a bench by the flowers.

Durkhanai considered this and the wonder of him asking such a simple question. Something soft melted inside her as she regarded him, and a smile tugged at her lips.

“My day has been alright,” she said. “How about yours?”

“I read that book you recommended to me,” Rashid said. “It was quite good, though I don’t know how you manage to read such fictitious stories.”

“They’re extraordinary fun!” Durkhanai said, defending her books. “Isn’t it wonderful to be lost in a story, to lose sense of time and place?”