The Forbidden Wish(55)

Caspida’s eyes are dry and fixed on her father’s face, burning with ferocity, as if she is trying to will him back to life. I crawl up the post of his bed and hang upside down from the ceiling, held in place by the sticky pads on my lizard toes. My round reptilian eyes enable me to see everyone at once.

Sulifer is holding a sheet of parchment and an inked quill, and he bends over his brother, speaking in a low voice.

“For the good of the people, Malek,” he says, “you must ensure that this transition be as stable as possible.”

“Leave him alone!” Caspida snaps. “He’s dying, you vulture!”

Sulifer regards her with pity. “Even on his deathbed, a king has responsibilities. Take notice and learn, Princess.”

She glares as he leans lower and puts the quill into Malek’s hand, holding his brother’s wrist so the king can press the tip to the parchment.

“Please, brother,” Sulifer murmurs. “Your people will sing praises of your wisdom and foresight. With a king and queen to rule after you, they will feel safe, and your enemies will tremble. For who can stand against ones so well matched as my son and your daughter? Let your last act bless their happiness and ensure your legacy.”

Malek’s feverish eyes rove from Caspida to his brother, and he moans.

“Get away!” Caspida rises and throws a finger toward the door, her eyes burning at her uncle. “I will call the guards!”

“Stop acting like a spoiled child,” Sulifer says patiently. “Your father is dying, and you insist on throwing tantrums.”

“Baba, please,” she says, taking her father’s face in her hands. “I love you. Don’t do this.”

“It was he who arranged this match years ago,” Sulifer says. “Will you defy his wishes now, when he is a breath away from the eternal godlands?”

“He was led by the nose,” she fires back. “This was your doing! You swayed him to your will when he was left weak by my mother’s death!”

“You dare call the king weak?” Darian interjects hotly. “You dare question his will?”

“You dare to usurp him!” she cries. “And to manipulate a man at his weakest! I won’t let you bully him into signing your stupid decree!”

Sulifer bares his teeth angrily. “Will you defy him until his last breath?”

She stares into her father’s face, her eyes dazed. “Of course not. Baba, I will do whatever you tell me to. But please, let it be your will, and none else’s.”

Malek murmurs something.

“Baba?” Caspida bends over him. “What is it?”

“Best . . .” he groans. “Best . . . thing for you . . . Keep you safe.”

“Baba?” Caspida’s eyes fill with dismay.

Sulifer stares down his nose at her. “The king has spoken. Step aside, Princess, and let him make his dying will.”

He brushes Caspida aside, holding up the parchment and supporting Malek’s arm as the king signs. Caspida’s face turns ashen, and Darian looks away, hiding a small smile.

“It is done,” intones Sulifer. “The king’s will is known. Signed and witnessed.”

“The king’s will is known,” murmur the physicians. “We stand witness.”

Darian takes Caspida’s arm. “Even on this tragic night, we have cause to be glad. Your father has given us a great gift, Cas. Don’t spoil it by being selfish.”

Suddenly Malek gasps, his eyes growing wide, pupils constricting. The physicians rush over and fuss, but there is nothing they can do. Caspida throws herself to her knees beside the king.

“No, no, no,” she murmurs, her eyes tearing up at last. “Baba, please!”

Malek’s eyes find hers. He opens his mouth as if to say something, and she leans over in anticipation, but the only thing to come out of him is a long, thin breath that trails off, until his lungs are empty and do not rise again.

“My brother has departed to the godlands,” intones Sulifer. “Sweet may he rest.”

“Sweet may he rest,” echo the physicians.

The women begin wailing and tearing their clothes. One holds a jar of ashes and begins throwing them in the air. As the physicians hasten to begin performing the death rites that will send Malek’s soul into eternity, Caspida stands and slips out of the room.

Unsticking my toes, I follow her.

She runs out of the king’s chambers, bursts through the nobles standing around, and ignores her handmaidens when they call to her. Her gown flapping around her legs, she runs up and down the palace corridors, losing the few people who try to follow her. I have to drop to the floor and shift to a cat to keep up, my paws silent on the stone. Caspida weeps as she runs, leaving a trail of dark spots on the stones where her tears fall.

Eventually she stops in front of Aladdin’s rooms. There she stands for a moment, leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself as she struggles to control her breathing. She stops sobbing and scrubs her face with the hem of her gown.

Then she takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and knocks on Aladdin’s door.

It opens at once.

“Zahra, I’m so—” He freezes. “Princess Caspida.”

“Prince Rahzad. Can I come in?” she asks.