Chapter 4

“We get reports day in and day out about the conditions beyond these walls, the poverty, the conditions our people should not have to live in. Your father refuses to even hear of anything that does not affect the nobility, and the lands will not improve because the rich choose to hoard money instead of spending it to make things better.”

I shake my head, my heart aching at what my people have to endure under my father. Our kingdom was once great, looked at by others as a just and respectable nation, where all prospered and were treated fairly. But now, in the thirty years of my father’s reign, the rich have grown richer, and the people who before weren’t poor but now are, continue to lose what little they have. They’re forced to pay unfair taxes to nobles who don’t need the funds. To a king who doesn’t need the money.

“I don’t understand how he could possibly let our kingdom rot like this.”

“Greed blinds many, and your father lost his sight a long time ago. All we can do now is wait for you to become queen and restore us to what we were.”

My eyes snap to hers. “Is that what the council plans to do? Wait, and let our kingdom lose everything we’ve built in the meantime?”

She smiles at me, not a nice smile. No, it holds all the viciousness she’s tried to instill in me.

“There’s that fire. I cannot tell you how much it pleases me when I see it.” I narrow my eyes at her and she continues. “No, we do not plan to wait. Medinah and I are ready for change, ready to be free of your father’s rule, but the rest treat our words as if we are just women overacting over the concerns of a few people. They talk as if we are not fit for the position of advisors. As if we did not all come into these position the same way.”

The role of advisor, like the crown, is passed down to the eldest child, whether that be man or woman. They are all trained in how best to advise the king or queen they will serve from an early age. I scoff at the very idea that the male advisors would look down on their female counterparts when every queen we’ve had has ruled ten times better than the current king. Maryam’s family is so powerful because of the women in her line. They brought up land from the crown over the past century until they owned more than any other family. And because they govern that land with fairness, the people love them. And that love makes them a threat in my father’s eyes. And apparently, the source of envy to the other advisors.

“And you and Medinah, what do you discuss concerning change?”

“Nothing I wish to tell you about Princess. Only for your own safety. You cannot be made to tell what you do not know.”

“I would never betray you.” I’m quick to argue.

Her eyes bore into mine. “If it were ever to save your own life, I would wish for you to betray me as quickly as you could. For you are this kingdom’s last hope. Advisors can be replaced. Heirs cannot.”

“I replaced my brother easily enough,” I grumble.

“Your brother was never fit to be a ruler over this land. There was nothing to replace because he was not a fit heir.”

My eyebrows scrunch. She’s said things like this before, but I already know if I ask her why he was unfit, she will not tell me. Although it’s clear she holds no affection for my brother, he was still my mother’s son. So she will not speak ill of him. I don’t know much about him, really. He was born and all but whisked away from my mother, raised solely by my father. He wasn’t a witch who needed my mother’s guidance in how to use magic, so my father saw no reason for her to be a part of his life. She only saw him when she was allowed in the throne room because her power was needed. Maryam has told me that my mother’s heartbreak was easy to see when she looked at the son she could never really have.

But beyond that, people speak of my brother in hushed tones, afraid to say his name too loudly and upset the king. When I do hear stories of him, they always make my brother sound like he was every inch my father’s son; arrogant, mean, and a bully. But these stories are only whispered when people get too drunk to hold their tongues. Sometimes it seems as though his name has almost been erased as much as The Unspoken One’s name has. And that snaps my mind back to what I learned in the library. I know his name now.

“Well in that case,” I say. “I hope you can bring the other advisors around to seeing things from your point of view. Although from the way Zayd, Hunayn, and Bilal bend and bow to my father’s every whim, I don’t think it’s likely.”

“I never thought Medinah would come to my side, and here she is, so.” She shrugs. “I will see you tomorrow, for our lesson.”

I nod as I stand, seeing her words for what they are. Dismissal. She hates to say goodbye. Sees it as much too final a statement.

I walk back to my bedroom, the torches lit now, casting my shadow along the walls as I go. When I reach my room, I light a candle before sitting on the bed, but the energy rushing through me makes it too much for me to remain there. I pace the length of my room, wringing my hands, trying to decide a safe place to go to summon him. If I am found or heard, I have no doubt my father will make an example of me. He wouldn’t hesitate to show that not even his daughter is above reproach when it comes to The Unspoken One.

And I still don’t even know if it’s safe. I have no idea what he was banished for or what he’s capable of, and the thought of summoning him, having to be alone with him, terrifies me. I am more sure than ever that he has magic in him. The fact that he can be summoned tells me that. The amount of energy the former witch had to use to banish him tells me that whatever magic is in him must be powerful, but he’s not a witch. Men cannot be witches. So what magic does he possess? And is my own magic any challenge to his? Would any training I’ve had be enough to battle him if there was a need to?

I jump when I hear a knock at my door, as if my very thoughts brought the guards upon me. Walking to it slowly, I open it to find Hud standing there and widen the door. He, out of the many guards in the palace, is one of the very few I trust.

“I am sorry to come so late, Your Highness,” he apologizes. “Your father sent me with a gift…from your fiancé.”

My lip curls at the word, and Hud has to tuck his lips into his mouth not to smile.

“It is strange to see you with this look. It only comes when I mention King Azar.”

This is not the first time Hud has been sent with a gift from Azar for me. And every time, my face changes of its own volition at the reminder of him. At the audacity of him sending me gifts, so sure of our pending marriage. I hold my hand out, and he gives me the package.

“I have to go. I am guarding the dungeon tonight.”

“Is the man who was punished today still down there?”

His eyes sadden as he nods. “He is still unconscious.”

“I will come there later.”

He looks behind him. “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asks low.

“I will be careful.”

He gives me a hesitant nod before walking away. I close my door and set the package on my desk. It’s like a living, breathing thing, like Azar somehow came into my room without my permission. I stare at it for a few minutes before finally opening it. The dress is beautiful, a vibrant purple made in the heavier materials needed for the cold of Sameer. But the person who sent it sullies the beauty of it. Then I look for the card he’s included with every other gift. While the others have told me of his wanting to marry me, how anxious he is to have me as his queen, this one is different and makes my stomach roll as I read the words.

I cannot wait to have you in my kingdom, and my bed.

What has emboldened him to write such a thing? Has my father told him I’m close to agreeing to marrying him? I wouldn’t put the lie above him. And then my spine straightens as all hesitation concerning summoning The Unspoken One fades away. And I know just where to do it. A place safe from my father, but that also provides an element of safety for me.

Exchanging my shoes for slippers, I blow out the candle in my room and open my door slowly, peeking into the hallway to make sure it’s empty. When I’m sure it is, I step out of my room and close the door behind me before hiking up my dress and tiptoeing away. I hurry down the hallways until I reach the door to the dungeon. Hud looks around before letting me pass him to descend down the dark stairs. This is something we’ve done time and time again, but this time, I need the privacy of the dungeon for my own purposes.

I pass the man who was lashed earlier, lying on his stomach on a cot. The cell door isn’t even closed for they have no fear of him waking up, let alone leaving. He’s still shirtless, the skin on his back flayed, dried blood mixing with the wet drops still dripping down his sides. Fear overwhelms me. He was lashed for the very thing I came down here to do. I waver for a second, picturing myself lying where he was, groaning in agony for simply stating a name. But then I remember the only way to stop more people from being in this very position is for me to rule this kingdom, to change the laws that cause so many, so much pain. I shake the fear away, knowing I have to do this. I have no other choice, and I’m running out of time, especially if Azar’s note is any indication.

I walk down to the last cell, the door open and darkness filling the space inside. Recalling the very first lesson in magic I learned, I picture a flame igniting on the candle placed on the wall. I wave my hand over it and the wick lights. I step slowly into the cell, looking at the door, hoping if The Unspoken One is dangerous and my magic fails me, I can still rush from the cell and lock him in…if he can even be locked in. I take a deep breath and stand in the middle of the cell, closing my eyes for a second before they open as determination fills me.

“Hamza.”