The Wrath and the Dawn(107)

Tonight, all that mattered was this.

Their hands threaded above her head. His low whisper in her ear.

Just one boy and one girl.

This.

Oblivion.

? ? ?


Shahrzad awoke to the scent of roses.

To the scent of home.

A golden sun streamed from between the carved wooden slats of the screens leading to her balcony. She winced at its light and rolled over.

On the silk cushion beside her head was a pale violet rose and a folded piece of parchment. She smiled to herself. Then she lifted the rose and brought it closer.

It was perfect. The circle of winding petals was flawless, and the color was the ideal balance of striking and subdued. Inhaling its heady fragrance, she reached for the piece of parchment and shifted onto her stomach.


Shazi,

I prefer the color blue to any other. The scent of lilacs in your hair is a source of constant torment. I despise figs. Lastly, I will never forget, all the days of my life, the memories of last night—

For nothing, not the sun, not the rain, not even the brightest star in the darkest sky, could begin to compare to the wonder of you.

Khalid

Shahrzad read the letter four times, committing his words to memory. Her smile grew wider with each reading, until it stretched far enough to cause her pain. Then she laughed like an imbecile and quickly chastised herself for it. She placed the rose and the parchment on the stool by her bed and reached to the floor for her discarded shamla.

Where is Despina?

Tying her laces, she walked to the door of her handmaiden’s chamber and knocked. When no one answered, she twisted the handle and looked inside. It was dark and deserted. She frowned and turned back toward her chamber.

Her frown deepening, she proceeded to bathe and dress in a sleeveless linen qamis of vibrant scarlet with matching trowsers. Tiny seed pearls and embellishments of copper and gold were embroidered at the cuffs and along the hem.

As she finished tugging the ivory comb through the last of her strands, one of the double doors opened and slammed shut with a deafening bang.

Shahrzad jumped through the air with a strangled cry.

“Did you miss me?” Despina teased.

“Where were you all morning?” Shahrzad glowered at her handmaiden, snaking her still-damp hair over one shoulder.

Despina cocked her head to the side. “You must be joking, Brat Calipha. I would rather eat my fill of excrement than return to this chamber a moment too soon. Especially at the risk of incurring a king’s wrath.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cease with the displays of false modesty. The entire palace knows about it.”

A feeling of warmth crept up Shahrzad’s neck. “Knows about what?”

Despina grinned. “The Caliph of Khorasan going into the gardens at dawn alone. And returning with a single rose.” She gestured toward the flower on the stool behind Shahrzad. “I think it’s safe to assume why.”

The heat bloomed onto Shahrzad’s face.

Despina groaned. “Are you going to deny it, then? How tedious.”

Shahrzad paused. “No. I’m not.” She lifted her chin.

“Thank the gods. I thought I would have to suffer through another odious attempt at coyness.”

“You’re one to speak on such matters.”

“Excuse me?”

Shahrzad positioned her hands on her hips and peaked an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of her handmaiden. “Did you have a nice evening, Despina-jan?”

“Of course I did,” Despina said over her shoulder. “I slept quite well.”

“I’m happy to hear it. Have you finally mustered the courage to tell the man you love the truth?”

“The man I love? I think you may have hit your head. Perhaps too much unrestrained—”

“Now who’s being odiously coy? Honestly, it galls me how both of you continue to play these games and ignore your feelings. He needs to know that you care about him. And he should definitely know about his child. Maybe I can—”

“Shahrzad!” Despina spun around, her features contorted in horror. “You can’t! You mustn’t!”

“Despina—”

“You don’t understand! He can’t know—anything.” Despina’s hands shook as she brought them to rest above her stomach.

Shahrzad shot her a gaze of bewilderment. “You’re right; I don’t understand. He’s a good man. He must—love you. Does he not?”