The Wrath and the Dawn (The Wrath and the Dawn #1)(46)

“Actually, you are that bold.” Shahrzad pushed back the tray of food and rested her elbows on the beveled ledge of the low table. “And this explains your odd behavior whenever you’re around him.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Despina laughed again, the sound trilling ever higher, her eyes burning with a blue light.

Shahrzad grinned slowly. “I know I’m right.”

Despina glowered at her in sullen silence.

“You needn’t worry.” Shahrzad propped her chin on the heel of her palm. “Your secret is safe. You can trust me.”

“Trust you?” Despina sputtered. “I’d sooner trust a sieve.”

“That’s—rather unfair.”

“Is it? You don’t trust me.”

“Of course I don’t trust you. You’re a self-admitted spy, and I’ve nearly died twice on your watch.” Shahrzad stared at her pointedly.

Despina blinked. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Need I remind you about the tea?”

“You still think that was me?”

“Then who was it?” Shahrzad demanded. “If you want me to trust you, tell me who was responsible.”

“It wasn’t the caliph, if that’s why you’re asking. He was . . . quite furious when he found out about it.”

“Was it the shahrban?”

Despina said nothing, but failed to conceal a cringe of affirmation.

“I’m not surprised,” Shahrzad continued. “I suspected as much.”

“Did you? Perhaps you should be the spy and I the calipha.”

“Perhaps. But I believe your pregnancy by another man may present a hindrance to that,” Shahrzad said in a droll tone. “Does Jalal know about the baby? If so, he should marry you. Or face my fury. The choice is his.”

“He doesn’t know. And I don’t intend to tell him.” Despina stood up and straightened the folds of her dress. “Because I don’t think he needs to know.”

“Well, that is simply ridiculous.”

Despina hooked a strand of golden brown hair behind an ear. “Maybe it is. But, for now, I choose to believe it is not.”

Shahrzad watched in pained silence while her handmaiden began cleaning up the mess as if nothing had occurred. As if a world of chaos had not been unleashed only moments before.

Like a canary in a gilded cage, Despina flitted about, stunning and resilient.

Trapped.

“You should rest,” Shahrzad directed.

Despina faltered, midstep. “What?”

“You’re pregnant. You don’t have to hide it from me anymore. Sit. Rest.”

Despina’s eyes swam crystalline for an instant before they flashed back to blue. “I don’t need to rest.”

“I insist.”

“Truly, it’s not—”

“Rest this morning. I’ll go with the Rajput to practice shooting in the training grounds. Come there when you feel better.” Shahrzad began preparing a cup of tea. “Do you think some tea would help your stomach?”

“I can make the tea,” Despina whispered.

“So can I.”

Despina paused, staring down at the figure of the small girl with the long mane of sleep-rifled hair. “Shahrzad?”

“Yes?”

“You are not at all what one would expect.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Shahrzad grinned over her shoulder.

“Absolutely. I think it’s kept you alive.”

“Then I’m very grateful for it.”

“As am I.” Despina smiled. “Most grateful.”

? ? ?


A wild cheer rang out from the sidelines as the arrow struck the eave on the opposite side of the courtyard with a solid thud. The shouts of the soldiers rolled into a chorus of laughter that rose into a cloud-filled sky.

A sky tinged with the scent of impending rain.

Shahrzad smiled at Jalal.

His shoulders shook with soundless mirth. He ran his free hand through his curly brown hair and shrugged at his men.

“You cannot dispute that, Captain al-Khoury,” Shahrzad announced.

“Indeed. I cannot, my lady.” He bowed, his fingertips to his forehead. “Your arrow struck the target. Mine . . . did not. Name your price.”

Shahrzad thought for a moment. Her question had to be a good one. It had to be worth discarding any attempt to conceal her skill with a bow. It also had to be worded in a judicious manner. He was gifted at deflecting responses and offering eloquent nonanswers.

“Why are you permitted to call the caliph by his first name?”

Jalal shifted the yew of his longbow from palm to palm. Ever careful. Ever calculating. “Khalid is my cousin. My father married his father’s sister.”

Shahrzad had difficulty suppressing her reaction. This was the most information she had obtained the entire morning.

Jalal grinned with a dangerous gleam in his light brown gaze.

“Choose the next target, Shahrzad.”

She scanned the courtyard. “The topmost branch of the tree to the right, beyond the roofline.”

He wagged his eyebrows, appreciating the challenge, as he pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to the string. When he drew it back, the edges of the unyielding longbow barely shifted.