“A king is only as good as its people. Marghazar’s success comes not from me, but from all of you, who work hard every day, who live in peace and kindness and tranquility.”

The audience clapped, as did Durkhanai, feeling proud and full of love.

“One final toast, to the one without whom I would be nothing,” Agha-Jaan said. He turned to the woman by his side—to his wife. Dhadi smiled fondly, eyes moistening with tears.

“Allah has blessed me with a life partner who is more brilliant than a thousand suns,” Agha-Jaan said. “Without you, janaan, the world would know no beauty, no peace, no joy. I am eternally indebted to you.

“May Allah bless you with a life longer than mine so that I do not know how lifeless this world would be without you. May He bless you with infinite health so that I may see your shining smile every day. And may He grant you endless happiness, for mine is bound to yours.”

Agha-Jaan lowered his head in respect to Dhadi, the only person in the entire world he would offer the gesture to.

Forty-five years of marriage, and their love had only grown stronger and stronger, like the tree whose roots sunk deeper and deeper into the earth as the years passed. Durkhanai yearned for a love like her grandparents’—one of adoration and respect and understanding. Agha-Jaan and Dhadi were made for each other.

Her eyes involuntarily turned to Asfandyar, and she noticed he was looking intently at her grandmother, something in his eyes she couldn’t recognize or place.

“And now for a surprise,” the Badshah said. Durkhanai watched as Marghazari soldiers brought forward a bloodied man, his face beaten, one of his eyes swollen shut.

She gasped along with the crowd when they realized who he was.

A Kebzu soldier.

His uniform was matted with blood and dirt, but they could all recognize it nonetheless.

“I bring before you proof that Marghazar was not responsible for the egregious attack on the summit meeting held in Teerza all those months ago—it was the Kebzu Kingdom!”

The soldier fell forward on his knees. Durkhanai glanced across to the other ambassadors to assess their reactions. Gulalai’s eyes were hard with vindication, while Palwasha-sahiba had a hand covering her mouth. Durkhanai could not find Rukhsana-sahiba.

“In these past three months, I have spared no resources in investigating, and finally I found this spy, trying to flee our lands—speak now! Tell the people what you confessed to me.”

“It is true,” the soldier spat. “The Kebzu Kingdom ordered the attack on the summit, to keep the tribes weak—an alliance would threaten us. I’m the one who arranged for a deadly explosive.”

“And how did you know about the summit?” the Badshah asked. “It was secret information.”

“We have spies everywhere,” the soldier seethed. “Why should I give away who they are?”