This Woven Kingdom(This Woven Kingdom #1)(112)

For the third time, Miss Huda screamed.

“Oh no,” Omid whispered. “This isn’t good.”

People came running now, a crowd beginning to gather, among them Hazan and the prince. Alizeh and Omid watched from the shadows as the blue-eyed stranger sighed, muttered an ungentlemanly word, and stepped out of the darkness—revealing himself to all and sundry with a broad smile.

Alizeh felt suddenly sick with trepidation.

“Welcome, one and all,” the stranger said. “I see you’ve come for a show. I’m eager to oblige, though I confess none of this is happening as I’d envisioned it! Then again, I’ve always appreciated a bit of spontaneity.”

Without warning, a ring of fire several feet in diameter erupted around himself and Miss Huda, flames three feet high, the heat so oppressive Alizeh could feel it even from where she stood.

Miss Huda began to sob, this time sounding close to hysteria. Alizeh’s heart was pounding furiously in her chest; she heard Omid’s sharp intake of breath.

This entire night was nothing short of a disaster.

Kamran stepped forward then, and the crowd surged back with a collective gasp, leaving him exposed. The prince drew as close to the flames as he dared, and Alizeh’s lungs constricted. She was terrified and somehow livid—furious as he studied the madman now holding her friend hostage.

Fool, she wanted to scream at the unhinged stranger. You stupid, stupid fool.

The prince, meanwhile, approached the aforementioned fool with sangfroid so assured one might think there was no danger at all.

“Your Excellency,” Kamran said. “This is no way to treat our guests. I will ask you once to douse your fire and release the lady.”

Alizeh froze, then frowned. Your Excellency?

Was Kamran making fun of him? She could think of no other reason why the crown prince of Ardunia would say such a thing, though even in jest it was—

Alizeh closed her eyes; felt the room spin. The memory of Kamran’s voice filled her head.

How, precisely, do you know the Tulanian king?

If the prince had been able to spot her in the crowd, he must’ve also seen her speaking with the blue-eyed stranger—and, devils above, what he must’ve thought of her. She’d been consorting with the Tulanian king just hours after kissing an Ardunian prince.

It struck a traitorous image, even she could see that.

Shame suffused Alizeh’s skin with a sudden heat; shame she need not own or claim, but felt regardless. Her confusion and apprehension tripled; for her mind would not now cease conjuring new questions.

Had Hazan struck a deal with the Tulanian king? If so, how? Why? What grand favor would a minister have been able to provide a king, so much so that he’d risk his reputation as sovereign of a formidable empire to assist her? What on earth had Hazan done?

Alizeh looked up again when she heard the stranger’s voice.

“And you must be the prince,” he was saying. “The beloved Prince Kamran, the melancholy royal of Setar, friend to street child and servant alike. Your reputation precedes you, sire.”

“How dare you speak to the prince in such a manner, you miserable swine,” Miss Huda cried, angrily swiping at her tears before lifting the candelabra above her head. “Guards! Guards!”

“Oh, yes, by all means,” said the young king. “Please do summon the guards. Bring them forth, have them confess aloud their sins. All under the order of King Zaal are complicit in his crimes.”

Kamran drew his sword and approached the flames at a proximity that made Alizeh gasp.

“You would speak ill of the king in his own home—on his own land?” said the prince with thunderous calm. “Release the girl now, or I will have your head.”

“Pray tell me, sire, how will you reach my head? With what magic will you walk through fire to claim it? With what power will you extinguish mine when your Diviners are all dead?”

At that, the room erupted in gasps and shouts, cries of astonishment and fear. Alizeh spun around, taking it all in. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing in her chest.

“Is it true?”

“He’s a madman—”

“Where is the king?”

“—but it cannot be—”

“Don’t believe a word of it—”

“The king! Where is the king?”

King Zaal appeared then, came forth through the crowd with a silent dignity, his head held high even under the weight of a hulking crown.

The young king extinguished his fire at once, releasing Miss Huda in the process. Several people rushed to her side, helping her to safety, while the blue-eyed fool charged forward to meet King Zaal, erecting another fiery circle that trapped the two sovereigns inside.

Alizeh realized then that she would rather rot in the gutter than go anywhere with this copper-headed scoundrel. So these were the few tasks he’d meant to accomplish? This was the business he’d claimed wouldn’t take long?

Oh, she wanted to slap him.

“Your fight is with me, is it not?” King Zaal said quietly.

“Not at all,” said the fool brightly. “There will be no fight, Your Majesty. When I am done with you, you will be begging me to end your life.”

King Zaal barked a laugh.

Someone in the crowd screamed, “Call for the soldiers! The magistrates!”