This Woven Kingdom(This Woven Kingdom #1)(107)
“Because it’s my transport,” he said in a flash of anger, “and you’re only meant to borrow it.”
She recoiled at that, at the venom in his voice.
“And I’ll have you know,” he said, “that while you’re so busy wondering whether I’m reliable, I’m wondering the same about you. I can assure you, Your Highness, that I do not want to be here, either. I am forced into your company only by the order of a merciless master, and I’m not at all pleased about it.”
Alizeh opened her mouth to protest but the stranger turned abruptly away—and left.
She watched him push through the crowd, disappearing into a sea of bodies with ease. How he moved so quickly among so many was both surprising and confusing, though not nearly as much as his last words.
He was forced into her company by a merciless master? That didn’t sound like Hazan, but then, what did she really know of him? Of anyone?
Alizeh stared at the broad back of the stranger as he retreated, at the simple lines of his black ensemble, the peculiar hat he carried in one hand.
She could not take the measure of him, and it worried her. How could she reliably place her life in the hands of someone she could not trust?
With a sigh, Alizeh turned to go, stopping only when she saw her blue-eyed companion intercepted by Hazan himself, the back of his dusty-blond head a stark contrast to the rich amber of the stranger’s copper.
Alizeh nearly cried for relief.
So they did know each other; they had indeed planned her escape together. A crashing wave of calm overcame her nerves, soothing her many worries. The stranger’s methods were unorthodox, yes, but she’d been wrong; he was not untrustworthy. He had undone his hex on Miss Huda, he’d given his word he’d not hurt the young woman, and now she had proof that he’d not lied to her. All this time Alizeh had trusted the nosta to guide her, but there was great comfort to be derived from the kind of proof only her own eyes might provide.
Finally, Alizeh felt as if she could breathe.
He and Hazan were speaking quickly now, and Alizeh was torn between searching for Miss Huda and joining their small party. She had so many questions for Hazan she was eager to ask, and perhaps—
Perhaps if she did not search for Miss Huda, she might not find the girl, and could then safely allow the young woman to return to her life. After all, what difference would it really make if Miss Huda told people what she’d seen? Alizeh would be long gone by then.
Though it was possible the gossip would not hurt her, but her blue-eyed companion. Knowing now that he was not a wretch made it harder for her to be careless with his life, especially as she considered all he’d done to spare hers.
Alizeh bit her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between the room at large, and the tall forms of the two young men.
Oh, dash it all.
She would let Miss Huda go. She needed to speak with Hazan; there was too much uncertainty.
Alizeh began forcing her way back through the crush, weaving between bodies to catch up with the gentlemen, who’d begun moving quickly in the opposite direction.
“Wait,” she called out. “Where are y—”
The copper-headed stranger turned around at that, catching her eyes with a narrowing of his own. He gave her a single, firm headshake.
Danger, he seemed to say. Do not follow.
Alizeh felt the nosta warm, and she gasped in surprise. How had the nosta understood an unspoken warning?
She stood in place, struck still by the many curiosities of the evening, when she felt the dregs of a familiar, silky whisper flood her head, fill her with dread.
A crawling fear overtook her heart, shattered across her skin, filled her mouth with heat.
Blindly, she ran.
It was panic that propelled her jerky movements, panic that sought irrational escape, as if she could ever outrun the devil. She knew the futility of retreat even as she pushed desperately through the densely packed room, even as she knew her efforts were in vain.
Like vapor, his whisper filled her head.
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye
“No,” she cried as she ran. “No, n—”
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye
One is a king who is loath to die
“Stop,” Alizeh shouted, clapping her hands around her ears. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed air, needed to flee the crush of the crowd. “Get out, get out of my head—”
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye
One is a king who is loath to die
Ford the darkness, scale the wall
Two have a friend who is foe to all
“Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone—”
The serpent, the saber, the fiery light
Three will storm and rage and fight
Alizeh caught a marble column around the middle and sagged against it, pressing her uncommonly overheated cheek to its cool skin. “Please,” she gasped. “I beg you— Leave me be—”
Always the jester will interfere
For there cannot be three sovereigns here
Something broke, smoke unclenching from around her throat, and just like that, he was gone.
Alizeh felt dizzy in the aftermath, breathless with fear. She pressed herself against the glossy marble, felt the cold penetrate her skin through her gauzy gown. She’d been so certain she’d freeze in this dress, but she’d not anticipated the crush of bodies, their collective heat, the unusual warmth she’d feel this night.