The Forbidden Wish(30)

The dinner is over. Darian is fussing at the servants, the nobles are dispersing, and Aladdin is lingering by a column, looking sullen. I run to him and bat his foot.

“Get away, cat,” he says. I hiss in reply and arch my back, and he does a double take. “Oh. It’s you.”

He follows me into the courtyard and around a small pavilion, where we are alone. There, I transform into a human, once again in plain servants’ clothing.

“Hungry?” he asks. “I got something . . . hang on.” From his pocket he pulls out a wadded napkin full of dates, bread, and meat, all mashed into one indiscernible mound. He holds it out.

“Thanks, but . . . that’s disgusting.”

He sighs and returns the mush of food back to his pocket. “Old habit, I guess. When you grow up never knowing where your next meal will come from . . . Did you see him? That bastard Darian was there. I could have throttled him, but there was this bird. Went crazy, smashed right into our dinner.”

“Brainless creatures,” I mutter.

“The men or the peacocks?” says a voice. “It would be a close bet.”

Aladdin and I turn to see Caspida approaching, her face flickering with orange light from the brazier blazing above. Her handmaidens are nowhere to be seen, but when I stretch out with my sixth sense, I feel them lurking in the shadows, watchful and silent.

“Princess,” Aladdin says breathlessly, his eyes clearing a little.

“Prince,” she replies smoothly. “Walk with me?”

He steps forward eagerly, leaving me to trail behind. With his hands clasped behind his back, his pace a bit unsteady, Aladdin allows the princess to lead him up a stair and onto a north-facing portico that looks out to the hills above Parthenia. With the city behind us, the stars are brilliant as diamonds strewn on black silk. A few lights burn in the cedars that grow below them, signs of farms and outposts scattered across the hinterlands.

“Your arrival has caused a stir among my people,” Caspida says at last. Her gown, cut from glittering teal silk, drags behind her, and the light of the lanterns hung from the portico’s arches glints off the elaborate jeweled necklace resting on her collarbone. She is every bit the princess, and beside her Aladdin is . . . every bit the prince. Taller than Caspida by several inches, he walks with his head tilted, so he can look in her eyes while she speaks. “It has been some time since anyone of importance has visited Parthenia. We are not quite the great influence we once were in this world, and I’m afraid many of the larger southern cities find us odd and backward. You might find yourself something of a curiosity to my court.”

“Like a trained monkey,” says Aladdin.

Her lips curl at the corners in amusement. “Once, we received princes and kings and queens from all across the world. Parthenia was a center of learning and art, renowned for its open doors and tolerant court. But our feud with the jinn has weakened us, and it is all we can do to maintain our own borders. Being shut off for so long has made my people suspicious and prejudiced. We fear those we once welcomed, and see jinn lurking in every shadow.”

She pauses and leans over the railing, staring out at the horizon. “I don’t mean to sound pessimistic. I just want you to understand the mood in my court.”

Aladdin, his back to the view, watches Caspida instead. “Why are you telling me this?”

She smiles humorlessly. “So you don’t think us all backward and prejudiced. There are some in this court who would have us reach out, to rekindle our old alliances and rally support against Ambadya. If we all stood against the jinn together, we might succeed. Too long have the nations of our world cowered before these monsters and their whims.”

“Some . . . meaning you?”

Caspida looks down at her hands, idly fingering the bangles around her wrist. “The eastern kingdoms don’t think women are fit to rule, did you know that? There are even those in Parthenia who think I should be set aside in favor of my uncle or my cousin Darian. They think our enemies will not take us seriously if a woman is on the throne.”

“Let them. And while they’re busy laughing, you’ll be busy ruling. Being underestimated isn’t flattering—but it’s an advantage.” He shrugs. “I’ve been underestimated all my life and have found it a cloak as useful as invisibility.”

Caspida turns her face toward him, her eyes probing his. “You are cunning, Rahzad rai Asnam. Are you a student of war?”

Aladdin laughs. “I take it you didn’t get a look at my ship, or you wouldn’t ask.”

“So what are you then?” She takes a step toward him, lifting her face to study him closely. “A scholar? An artist?”

“More like a dreamer.”

“It must be nice, to afford dreams.”

“Don’t you dream?”

“Dreams won’t protect the city from jinn. Dreams won’t feed my people. Dreams won’t . . .” She presses her lips together.

Aladdin, in a gentler voice, asks, “Princess, if you could wish for anything in the world, what would you wish for?”

She studies him for a long moment, as if unsure whether he is teasing or serious. Then she gives a little sigh and says, “You shouldn’t picks fights with Darian. He’s more dangerous than he looks.”

“Do you love him?”