Chapter 40

Days later, Widad’s spell hasn’t worn off, and I’m sure it’s the only thing keeping the pain I would otherwise be crippled by at bay. An ache forms when I move too quickly or when I roll on my back in my sleep and wake up gasping, but then a tingling begins, and the pain dulls again. I cannot thank her enough for her small mercy.

Today will be the first time I’m going to venture out of my room. The first time I dare to put on a gown, or let any fabric touch my back. I can’t bear to look at my back in the mirror, but Zaynah, who my father did indeed allow to come back, tells me the wounds are healing faster than she thinks they normally would. Another thing to thank Widad for, I suppose. I could try healing the wounds now that I have the strength, but honestly I’m too afraid anything I do will undo the more powerful spell Widad used to help me. And I’m weary of the pain returning.

I hiss as Zaynah buttons up my gown, but again the pain fades before I even leave my room to walk to Maryam’s office. Every day that she has come to my room to check on me, her eyes have settled on my back and sorrow rose in them all over again. So this time, I’m going to her, dressed and head held high. When I reach her door, I hear murmured voices behind it. I lean in, trying to decipher who the other person in her office is, but the door whips open and I’m caught, neck craning, eyes wide.

Maryam’s beams. “You’re up and about.”

“Yes. I can come back if you’re busy though.”

“No, no. It’s okay. We’re finished.”

Thinking she’ll introduce me to the man beside her, I look up at him. Up and up because he’s one of the tallest people I’ve ever seen. Taller than Azar even, but not nearly as muscled. He’s older, gray dusting his black hair at his temples and in his beard. His eyes look at me with a longing I don’t understand as he smiles at me.

“You look just like her,” he says low.

My eyebrows scrunch in confusion as Maryam pushes him until he’s past me.

“I will speak with you soon,” Maryam tells the man, and he nods before walking away.

He gives me one more backwards glance before he’s gone.

“Who was that?” I ask after she closes her office door behind me.

“Someone who shall remain nameless for now.”

I lean forward in the my chair, not tempting my wounds by sitting all the way back in the first place. “Is he someone with the—”

Maryam cuts me off with a pointed look. “I’ve already told you those aren’t my stories to tell. Now, how is your back? Is it okay now?”

“Getting there.” I murmur, not liking that she’s changed subjects.

“Something I’ve wanted to ask. Why did you summon The Unspoken One, Ameera? I tried and tried to figure out why, but I can’t. I assume it has something to do with marrying Azar, but now I think it is something more.”

“It began the way you think it did. I summoned him, not even knowing if he could help, but I was desperate. Not to marry Azar, not to have Nur come under his control, not to be bound to…a monster. But then it became more. I stopped thinking about how he could help me and just craved his company, craved his presence. Then I just craved…him. I love him.”

I’m unsure of how she’ll react to that, but am pleasantly surprised when she smiles, however small it may be.

“And that is how you found out why your brother truly died?”

“Yes. Did you already know Hamza’s purpose? What people call on him for?”

“I did, which was why I didn’t even consider summoning him. Trust me, if I had thought he could help, I would have done it myself. Does he return your affections?”

“Yes.” I can’t help but grin. “Although I don’t know what any of that means for the future. I know what I want it to, but I wonder if reality will match it.”

“Reality.” She scoffs. “Regrettably that’s what I was going to come to you about today. King Azar has responded to your father’s letter. He will come here for the wedding.”

My body stills at her words, but runs cold at her next ones.

“In a week’s time.”

“A week?” I breathe.

“As he wrote in his letter, he doesn’t want to waste time. I saw that as a threat, but your father saw it as impatience to marry you.”

“A week. I have a week left until my life changes forever.”

“A week,” she confirms. “His witch will perform the ceremony, this he insisted upon.”

“I still haven’t been able to find anything in my books explaining what happened in the forest with Azar and Hud. How he still seems protected even when Arwa isn’t with him. But I have to assume there’s some limit to the distance she can protect him at, and that’s why he brings her everywhere, why he’s bringing her here.”

She nods. “That may be true. But still, he takes quite a risk, bringing her here, into what he assumes is an enemy kingdom, where she is weaker.” She arches a brow.

I scrunch my own in confusion, wondering why she’s iterating this point to me. But nonetheless I keep that information at the front of my mind.

“Your father has arranged for someone to come and design your wedding dress.”

“Najla?” I ask, hopeful.

“No. Since she designed the, as he described it, improper gown that you wore the day you were to sign the agreement in Sameer, he will not hire her. But”—She grins and leans forward—“Should you draw me something and I pass the design along to her, what’s to stop her from making the gown you want? He cannot very well snatch the gown off your body at the wedding.”

“Well then I guess I’ll need a piece of paper.”

I hurry to draw a gown I’ve been thinking of ever since I agreed to this atrocity. Happiness starts to fill me as I sketch it, but then the fact that Azar will set eyes on it, that I will seal myself to him in this gown, or any gown, pushes that emotion away.

“What about the other advisors? What are they saying?” I question, pushing the paper back to Maryam.

She smiles at it before setting it down. “The advisors are…confused. They’ve been asking if you’ve lost your way, put your interests in The Unspoken One above what’s best for Nur, above your duty. Asking why you hid your magic, if using it would have been beneficial for Nur. Would have made us stronger as a kingdom. I am assuring them that you are more determined than ever to do what is right for this kingdom. As much as they dislike the idea, they take your agreeing to marry Azar as taking a necessary step to protect Nur, to avoid war and losing you as the heir.”

“And the guards?”

“Any guard who is not your father’s is still on your side. They only truly care that you were lashed in front of them. But your father’s guards, especially a recuperating Batil, cannot wait to see you wed and gone.”

“Is my father paying the guards and servants again, now that he knows it wasn’t one of them who summoned him?”

“He is.”

“And Hud? Is he okay? Zaynah told me my father had him removed from my personal guard.”

“He has been put on night guard duty for the hot springs. You should go down there tonight,” Maryam suggests, but something in her tone makes me look more closely at her. “I know that should you want privacy, perhaps to soak your back, Hud would be there to make sure you were not disturbed.”

Is she saying what I think she’s saying? Maybe my mind is reading too much into her words, but I latch onto them nonetheless.

“Yes, I think I will go there tonight. It will do wonders for my wounds.”

Night falls and after exchanging a few words with Hud, I walk into the hot springs, the humidity hitting me while I close the door. I practically rip my head wrap off, running my fingers through my curls to loosen them before I reach behind me to unbutton my gown. I step out of my gown and shoes and stand in the mist from the hot spring, naked and anxious.

“Hamza.” I breathe.

He appears in an instant, his frantic eyes seeking me out. His body stills as he looks me over, unashamedly baring all to him. Then his mouth begins turning up at the edges in a smile before he rushes towards me. His hands are on my arms, his lips are touching mine, his heavy breaths reach my ears, and all is right in my world.

Every pain disappears. Every tear I cried these past few days no longer matters. All the distance that separates us every day is of no importance because he’s here, now, in my arms. His tongue slips out, licking between my lips and I open for him, bringing our bodies closer until I feel his hardness pressing into my stomach. His arms wrap around my back and I hiss at the touch of them.

He draws back, an apology in his eyes, that then morphs into sadness. I bring my hand to the side of his face, stroking my fingers down his cheek until they settle on his jaw.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. “How is your leg?”

“It’s fine. My leg does not matter after what your father did to you.”

“It matters to me. The witch, she used a spell that has dulled the pain, and I think helped me heal faster. I get better every day. But you, my love, are you well?”

“I could never be well when I know you’re going to marry Azar. You cannot do it, Ameera. You can’t. Not even for me. Please.”

“I must. But please, right now, I need you. So badly.”

His eyebrows furrow.

“What do you want to say?”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Your back…”

I smile. “Then I guess you should be lying on your back instead.”

His face stays worried.

“Do you want me, Hamza?” I ask low.

“Yes. You never have to ask that. The answer is and will always be yes.”

“Then show me. We have much to discuss, but right now all I want is your body under mine.”