This Woven Kingdom(This Woven Kingdom #1)(91)

Alizeh bobbed a curtsy. “Good aftern—”

“Not a sound,” the young woman said harshly, grabbing Alizeh by the arm and yanking her inside.

Alizeh had only just managed to swipe her carpet bag up and into her arms before they were off, barreling wildly through the kitchen and down the halls, Alizeh’s cumbersome baggage knocking against the walls and floors as she struggled to keep up with Miss Huda’s sudden, jerky movements.

When they finally stopped moving, Alizeh stumbled forward from the force of residual motion, staggering a bit as she heard the sound of a door slam shut.

Her box and bag hit the floor with consecutive thuds, after which Alizeh steadied herself, turning in time to see Miss Huda struggling to catch her breath, eyes closed as she slumped back against the closed door.

“Never,” Miss Huda said, still trying to breathe. “Never, ever show up unannounced. Never. Do you understand?”

“I’m terribly sorry, miss. I didn’t realize—”

“I was only able to arrange our last meeting because I pretended to have a megrim on an evening I knew the family had been invited to dinner, but everyone is home now, preparing for the ball, which is why my maid was supposed to come to you to collect the gown and oh, if Mother discovers I’ve hired you to make me a dress I’ll be reduced to little more than a writhing, bloody sack on the street, for she will literally tear all my limbs from my body.”

Alizeh blinked. The nosta glowed neither hot nor cold against her skin in response, and Alizeh didn’t understand its lack of reaction. “Surely you do not— You could not mean she would literally—”

“I meant exactly what I said,” Miss Huda snapped. “Mother is the devil incarnate.”

Alizeh, who knew the devil personally, frowned at that. “Forgive me, miss, but that’s not—”

“Lord, but how am I going to get you back out of the house?” Miss Huda dragged her hands down her face. “Father has guests due any minute now, and if a single one of them sees you—if even a servant sees you— Oh, heavens, Mother will surely murder me in my sleep.”

Again, the nosta did not react, and for a single, terrifying moment Alizeh thought the object might be broken.

“Oh, this is bad,” said Miss Huda. “This is very, very bad . . .”

The nosta glowed suddenly warm.

Not broken, then.

Alizeh experienced a wave of relief supplanted quickly by consternation. If the little glass orb was not broken, then it was perhaps Miss Huda who was uncertain of the veracity of her statements. Maybe, Alizeh considered with some alarm, the young woman wasn’t entirely sure whether her mother might one day murder her.

Alizeh studied the panicked, overwrought figure of the girl before her and wondered whether Miss Huda wasn’t in more trouble at home than she let on. She knew the girl’s mother had proven overtly cruel, but Miss Huda had never before characterized the woman as a physical threat.

Quietly, Alizeh said, “Is your mother truly so violent?”

“What?” Miss Huda looked up.

“Are you— Are you genuinely worried your mother might kill you? Because if you believe her a serious threat to your li—”

“I beg your pardon?” Miss Huda boggled. “Have you no sense at all of hyperbole? Of course I’m not genuinely worried my mother might kill me. I am in a panic. Am I not allowed to embroider the truth a bit when I am in a panic?”

“I— Yes,” Alizeh said, quietly clearing her throat. “I only meant— That is, I wanted only to ascertain whether you truly feared for your safety. I am relieved to discover you did not.”

At that, Miss Huda went unexpectedly silent.

She stared for what felt like a long time at Alizeh, stared at her as if she were not a person, but an enigma. It was an ungenerous stare, one that made Alizeh decidedly uncomfortable.

“And what, pray,” Miss Huda said finally, “did you mean to do about it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If I had told you,” Miss Huda said with a sigh, “that my mother did indeed intend to murder me, what would you have done about it? I ask because you appeared, for a moment, quite determined. As if you had a plan.”

Alizeh felt herself flush. “No, miss,” she said quietly. “Not at all.”

“You did too have a plan,” Miss Huda insisted, her earlier panic dissipating now. “There’s no point in denying it, so go on. Let’s hear it. Let’s hear your plan to save me.”

“It was not a plan, miss. I merely— I only had a thought.”

“So you admit it, then? You had a thought about saving me from the clutches of my murderous mother?”

Alizeh lowered her eyes at that, saying nothing. She thought Miss Huda was being intolerably cruel.

“Oh, very well,” the young woman said, collapsing into a chair with a touch of theater. “You need not speak it aloud if you find the confession so torturous. I was merely curious. After all, you hardly know me; I was only wondering why you cared.”

The nosta glowed warm.

Stunned, Alizeh said, “You wondered why I would care if your mother might actually murder you?”

“Is that not what I just said?”

“Are you— Are you quite serious, miss?” Alizeh knew Miss Huda was serious, but somehow she couldn’t help asking the question.