The Wrath and the Dawn(80)
“Tariq, please.”
His eyes narrowed to silver slits. “Will he come to see you tonight?”
“You need to leave. Now.” Shahrzad tugged at his wrist, but he refused to budge from the wall.
“Good. Let him come. That will solve the matter on all fronts.”
“Do you have a death wish?” she cried in muted despair.
Tariq laughed, and the sound was full of heedless arrogance. “From the boy-king? That aging camel?”
“You idiot! He’ll kill you!”
“Are you sure? You don’t think he’ll ask his mother to do it for him?”
Shahrzad sucked in a breath. Before she could stop herself, she launched into a whispered tirade.
“You know nothing about him, and your ignorance will be your downfall. Get out of here, Tariq, because if Khalid walks through that door, he will cut you to ribbons before you have a chance to open your mouth, and it will destroy me. Beyond words. Beyond time. If you love me, do not force me to watch such a sight.”
Shahrzad clutched the front of his rida’ as she spoke. Her features twisted in deep distress.
Tariq’s initial shock melted away at the prospect of her pain. “Shazi—I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just . . . go.”
Tariq took a slow step from the wall. Then he swiveled around to grab Shahrzad by the waist and press her back against the stone. He ran his palms along her arms.
“I love you, Shahrzad al-Khayzuran. There is nothing I would not do for you. Nothing I would not consider if it meant keeping you safe. The world itself should fear me if it stands between us.”
“I—I love you too, Tariq.”
He smiled. Then, without warning, he caught her lips in his. Shahrzad’s jaw slackened in surprise, and Tariq deepened the kiss, tilting her chin upward with a gentle caress of his thumb.
Shahrzad’s mouth responded automatically. Her lips curved over his as they had on many occasions before. But . . . why did it feel wrong this time? Where was that breathless, weightless thrill? That thoughtless moment of incandescence?
Where was that feeling of falling?
It’s here. I know it’s here. I can get it back.
I have to get it back.
REALIZATIONS
UPON EXPLANATIONS
A DAY OF HUNTING FOR SPORT SHOULD PROVE interesting, indeed.
Tariq strode down another never-ending corridor with a guard at his side. As he walked, he glanced around him at the splendor of the palace at Rey. The walls and domed ceilings above were polished beyond reason, and each portico was delineated at its center by a golden sunburst, supported by swooping beams and columned arches of blue-veined agate.
It was beautiful, without a doubt. If a bit cold and imposing.
Soon, he joined a gathering of noblemen taking part in today’s hunting excursion. In truth, Tariq was glad for the distraction and glad for the opportunity to spend time in the company of his target; his interaction with Shahrzad the night before had troubled him greatly.
It was unlike her to be so cagey and distant. It was also unlike her to be so concerned with safety. Usually, she was the first one to throw herself into the fray, heedless of the consequences.
When they were younger, Shahrzad had wanted to learn how to climb trees. Bored with the prospect in short order, she’d then insisted on breaching the walls of Taleqan. Both he and Rahim had begged her to cease in this foolishness, but, if anything, it had only spurred her onward. While watching her climb one afternoon, with her black hair streaming behind her in a tangled mess, he had caught sight of the mortar easing from the wall in a cloud of white dust by her foot. He had known, in that instant, that the brick was about to come loose. Tariq had shouted an all-too-late warning. He had heard Shiva’s scream from behind him when Shahrzad fell. His heart had left his chest as her small body plummeted to the sand. Tariq was the one who had reached her first, who had clutched her to him, demanding she respond. And he was the one who had cursed loudly when she laughed at him, saying she was fine, even if her head did hurt a little.
That was the day he first told her he loved her.
Tariq inhaled through his nose.
It was also unlike Shahrzad to hesitate. About anything.
And she had hesitated last night.
When he said he loved her on the balcony, she hesitated in her response. Then, when he kissed her, something was wrong. He could feel her thinking. Feel her questioning. Feel her wanting . . . something else.