Wishes, She Roars Read online

  My life was filled with “if onlys,” and none of them were any more likely than the next.

  "Why are you making that face?" She rose a brow in question. "Am I rubbing too hard?"

  Imani was running a rough rag down my shoulders and neck. She was the only one who wasn't forbidden from touching me, and I was used to her hands that were both gentle and firm, so I just frowned, suddenly uncertain of how to tell her anything at all.

  "That's not a very nice face, either." She peered down at me and switched to my arms.

  "I met someone last night." I found my courage and admitted at last. I tried not to fidget as Imani's hands stalled.

  "As a giant cat?" she asked bluntly, turning to eye the door to ensure no one had returned.

  I just shook my head.

  No, I'd met Aladdin as a girl, and nothing more. Not a monster or a beast, not even a princess, not even a pretty face. I was certain I'd looked as though I'd been tossed overboard a ship as wet as I was.

  "He said he'd like to see me again." I managed to croak out. Suddenly the ache was everywhere, and not for one man whom I didn't know, but for a life without dreams.

  "I'm sorry." Imani offered me a hand to lead me up and out of the bath.

  My only friend had eyes that mirrored the sadness of my own.

  There would be no young man from the market for me. There would only be pain.

  I was dried and dressed before I wanted to be. Imani was efficient and silent for the better part of the morning after that.

  Per usual, a palace guard arrived to escort me to where my grandfather was likely very impatiently waiting for me at this point. I'd have stalled for much longer if I could have thought of a way. The Sultan's guards wore gold and ivory and stood out sharply in contrast to the ones who worked under the Grand Vizier.

  The guard was tall and lean, with a short beard and a long sword. He didn’t look at me, which was customary. It was how I’d begun to feel invisible, and it was how I was kept that way.

  I was led to the formal dining room. Massive gold-lined archways towered over a long rectangle room the color of warm sand. There was a stately table situated in the center of the room, filling almost the entire length of the space. And at the end of it sat my grandfather with the same serpent as always, sitting just on his right.

  My grandfather appeared tired in his alabaster robes, and the Grand Vizier looked like a snake in his green tunic.

  And that snake was smiling at me with too many teeth, lips curled back. Along one long wall was a mural in tiny pieces of glass and stone, a history piece of our kingdom, and in front of that beautiful fresco, were three as equally beautiful men. Their mere existence made my blood boil, but I did my best to swallow down the fire that wanted to shoot from my tongue.

  I smiled as I'd been taught and dipped my head as they bowed.

  "Gentleman," my grandfather said, rising from his chair. "May I introduce my granddaughter, Princess Cyra."

  I touched my mother’s amulet as it hung around my neck, a gold chain layered on top, for Imani had judged it too plain for this meeting alone. I had two matching cuffs, and even pins on the peak of my shoes. I was beautiful all right, but all I could think of was biting off their heads.

  Wicked. That was what I was, and I used that word to soothe my anger. I said it again and again in my head until my temper cooled.

  None of these men had done anything wrong, not that I knew of, anyway. Likely they were just doing what others had said. Just like I was. Though their lives were possibly less restricted as mine, being male, I couldn't know. Perhaps they felt every bit as caged as I did.

  I took my seat next to my grandfather and attempted a smile. The three gentlemen from neighboring kingdoms began to introduce themselves, and I had to keep myself from appearing bored and angry.

  The first, as handsome as he was, with hair the color of wet sand after a rainstorm that swept across his forehead in a wave of curls, was from Jamindan Kingdom. “Princess, I am Prince Hanias. I come with great riches to offer your kingdom, and—” He paused and bowed with his arm crossing his middle, the other swung to the side. I rolled my eyes as I sipped from my wineglass. “My lands are fruitful. I have exotic animals you will find in no other kingdom. You shall find no better husband than I.” He smiled, and I could see the mischievous glint in his brown eyes as they beheld me. And again, as they swept my features, landing in places that made me uncomfortable.

  I nodded and couldn’t bring myself to smile. I felt Grandfather’s stare upon me and the Grand Vizier’s, but I couldn’t care. “Is that so? What of your travels, Prince? Do you see anything other than your own reflection? Are your people well fed?” I knew I may very well pay for my insolence, but this was not to be my life. I would not marry such fools.

  Hanias sputtered and stammered. “Ah, I… um, Princess. Whatever do you mean?”

  “Thank you for gracing me with your presence, Prince. You know the way out.” I inclined my head toward the door. “I would say it’s been a pleasure...” I let my words hang in the air, and this time, a smile did touch my lips.

  He bowed before me and my grandfather, then immediately took his leave.

  I could feel the tension in the room mounting, but it was lovely. I sipped from my wineglass once more and took a small bite of food as I raised my eyes to the next in line.

  This one visibly swallowed before he opened his mouth to speak, and I grinned internally. Perhaps he would remember himself and keep his eyes where they were meant to be. “You may proceed.” I gave him a small smile, and the Grand Vizier cleared his throat loudly. I turned my gaze to him for a moment, and there was fire in his eyes. I met his fire with my own, and then turned toward the next suitor in waiting.

  “Princess, it is a pleasure.” When he spoke, his full lips scarcely moved. Odd. But he was pleasant looking, with his dark brown hair and piercing green gaze. He was quite tall and well built. “I come to offer you myself. I mean, that wasn’t…” I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “I offer my heart to you, the alignment of our kingdoms, and the riches of which you have never seen.” There it was, the riches again.

  “And what was your name, Prince? I didn’t catch it.” I set my fork on the table and folded my hands together.

  “Ah, my apologies.” He ran his palms down his pants leg, seemingly nervous. “Prince Alasheed of Barijabas Kingdom.”

  “And Prince Alasheed, what is it you do with these untold riches? How do your people fair?” It was becoming a running theme in my inquiries; however, it was also a hint to those around me.

  He cleared his throat. “Satisfactory, I assume. I honestly have no care as long as the kingdom prospers.”

  Wrong answer. “How do you expect your kingdom to prosper if your people are starving and begging in the streets? If they have no home? If they’re dying of disease?” I rose from my seat. “You, young prince, should think long and hard about the words you’ve just spoken, as you will be Sultan one day. The blood of your people will fall upon your hands alone.” I pointed toward the door. “Please leave until such time someone has called upon you.”

  “I—Princess, please.” He all but pleaded and stepped toward the table but was stopped by a guard.

  “No, you have had your turn to speak, Prince.” I sat back down in my chair, seething. I couldn’t believe this farce of a “meeting.” I didn’t dare peer around at my surroundings, as I could feel my grandfather and the snake’s eyes upon me once more. I had overstepped and lost my temper. I would surely pay by being locked away in my chamber, no doubt by the Grand Vizier, but what was new?

  I propped my chin on my fist and raised my eyes to the final prince left standing. He appeared nervous as his Adam’s apple bobbed several times with each swallow. I only waited for him to carry on. I didn’t say a word in greeting. I was prepared to leave at any moment, and what was left of my restraint was barely holding on by a thread.

  He stepped before me, and like the others, he was well built and nice
to look at. This one had hair the color of night and eyes to match, with bronze-toned skin. He was certainly the most attractive of the three, but I wasn’t expecting anything more than a pretty face.

  “Ah, Princess Cyra. I have been waiting a long time to make your acquaintance.” He gave a slight bow. “I am Prince Galifar of the Hijani Kingdom, at your service. I do come to you with untold riches, but I offer much more. I offer a life of freedom.” At that, I raised my chin from my fist. This prince had caught my attention with only a word. “You will be free to roam about the kingdom and meet with our people. Do what you feel is necessary. You are a princess after all, and not a prisoner.” The Grand Vizier slammed his glass on the table, and all eyes veered toward him. No one said a word, but it was clear he didn’t approve.

  I smiled in response. “Prince Galifar, do go on.”

  “Of course, you will be expected to birth our children and provide an heir. I must have a son—that is without question. And if you cannot do so, then I am within my right to find—”

  I cut him off before he could utter another syllable, for I knew where this was headed. “Your terms, dear Prince, do not meet my specifications. I play second to no one, and as such, you, too, may take your leave, just as your brethren. Reconsider what you’ve said and try again. Good day.”

  “But I was not—”

  His face was red, and he appeared angry as I cut him off once more. “Good day, Prince.” I stood again and pointed toward the door. “You are hereby dismissed from my presence.”

  "Are we done here?" I glanced around as soon as the door closed behind Galifar. I was shocked my voice didn't tremble. My guts were filled with shock and anger.

  "Yes," the Grand Vizier sneered, "the princess needs time to consider her options."

  I was going to consider throwing myself off my balcony without wings or fur. How could I consider any of those men? They were dreadful.

  I didn’t wait for the guards who stood at the grand wooden door to again open it for me. I grabbed the door handle myself and ran.

  Chapter 5

  It killed my soul, but I stayed on two feet. I ran all the way back to my room, stopping only to bar the door before collapsing to the floor in a heap.

  I did not shake. I did not snarl. I did not shift.

  Imani was there, attempting to drag me off the floor but I refused to be dragged.

  "What happened?" she asked, giving up on moving me, and curling up on the floor alongside me instead.

  What didn't happen? It was obvious that the Grand Vizier had given Grandfather this horrible idea. His smirk said everything, and those men may have been beautiful on the outside, but they were far more wicked than I was within.

  And as I told Imani all this, she cradled me like a child, though I was a summer older than her.

  I let her, although I didn’t feel as if I was falling to pieces, as I had when I'd run. I felt... empty.

  "You aren't wicked," she told me, "and you should learn to trust your instincts. If you thought they were bad enough to have their heads bitten off right away, I'd say they probably did." She pushed my hair away from my face. "Vanity is a sin that men can be guilty of as well as women."

  I meant to reply, however, as a knock shook my bolted door, I couldn't remember what I'd been about to say.

  I let Imani pull me up before she skirted away to answer the door.

  With rough hands I swiped at my eyes and cheeks, but there were no tears. I didn't think I had any left after a lifetime of spilling them.

  "My Sultan," Imani cried as she sank to the floor in a curtsy so low, I thought her legs might snap.

  "Leave us," my grandfather said, lacking his typical cordial air.

  I was relieved to see there was no looming serpent in his shadow as Imani fled my chamber. I don't believe I'd ever been so alone in my life as I was in that moment.

  It had been a long time since we'd been like this. No guards, no servants, just a grandfather and his only grandchild.

  I knew this was not the life he had planned to lead, either. He'd retired once, leaving the kingdom to a young and capable king. How long ago that had been.

  And he'd had other sons. Likely he imagined he'd live out the rest of his life in quiet and calm luxury surrounded by grandchildren, yet the world was cruel, and all we had left was each other.

  He appeared older, shoulders hunched, even the color of his robes somehow looked wearier.

  I supposed that was something else I could take credit for. Another of my many faults I didn't know how to fix. It seemed everything I was forced to do was killing him or killing me, but possibly both, and there was almost nothing to be done about it.

  "You don't have to decide today," he said flatly and folded his arms behind his back. He was staring at the bright blue sky that stretched out on the other side of my window, as if he, too, wished he could fly.

  "And if I decide I don't wish to marry..." Grandfather whirled back to face me. "Any of them," I added almost too late. I couldn’t let him assume I never wanted to marry. He couldn’t live forever.

  His eyes softened then. His long beard was all white, and grandmother had been in the grave many years before I was born. But he reached for me, and I let him hold me how he once did. Before we'd been weighted down, before I was taught to hate.

  "I made a promise to your father…" He pulled away and met my gaze. Gentle, I hardly recognized the gesture in him, or the sound of his voice. "To take care of you if something should ever happen to him."

  His words sounded so very far away, that I could feel the distance in my bones. "But I promised your mother not only would I look after your mortal body, but that I would look after your soul as well."

  I leaned back, uncertain of what I had heard. I replayed his words in my head, and they sounded so much like my mother, I could acutely feel the pang of her death again.

  "And I am afraid I have not been doing a good job of it. She wanted you to be happy, and so do I. Cyra, I will never choose a husband for you. I want you to decide who you marry, I wish..."

  But he didn't finish the sentence, instead, his face morphed into that of a younger king, as if he knew the weight of the promise he had just made to me. As if he would go to war for it.

  "I want you to decide how you live your life, Cyra, I want you to relish and take on more freedoms. Perhaps when you see more of the world, it will become easier to decide what you want from it."

  My heart stopped beating in my chest, and the sun quivered in the sky outside my window. It was as if this was all a glorious dream. One I dreaded waking from.

  "The Grand Vizier..." I started, but Grandfather just waved me off.

  "My vizier is a smart but ambitious man, he cares nothing for the hearts of women, and instead, longs for allies and monies, though we have more gold than we could ever spend."

  I swallowed thickly, thinking of the gold in bags from last night, and again wondering where it had been headed. "I... thank you." My voice was just above a whisper, a plea for something I didn't even understand.

  Grandfather appeared pleased, as if we were finally getting somewhere. Perhaps we finally were.

  I still didn't dare dream.

  "I also came to ask you for something." Grandfather’s voice was hollow sounding again, and I recoiled before I could think better of it.

  After all, he’d promised he would not make me marry on his whim, and he wanted me to taste freedom. What could he ask me that would take away from that?

  Yet, I still held my breath, as though I hadn’t thought of all the worst possible options.

  "I want you to attend the party tonight. Perhaps the princes aren't so bad, and you won't know if you don't spend any time around them."

  "Grandfather," I began, but stopped.

  I hated the parties and the waste that went right along with them. Still, this was a compromise I supposed I could make. Though, I was quite certain I'd seen enough of those three princelings to last a lifetime or more.


  "Very well," I conceded, "you're right. I do not know them."

  Grandfather gave me a soft smile before patting my shoulder. It seemed so strange to be having this conversation, and it appeared he thought so, too.

  "There's my wise girl, woman, really. You stopped being my sweet little girl a long time ago."

  I would have thought that was an insult, if it weren't for the pleased expression he still wore as he said, "I will see you tonight. I've sent Mara a new dress for you, and it would please me to see you wear it."

  Yes, this conversation was strange indeed. To my knowledge, my grandfather had never been bothered about what I’d worn since I was ten and insisted on climbing trees barefooted with the half-wild boys who lived in the palace.

  I just smiled in return, and then he was gone.

  I didn't know which way to look, or what to do. I flung myself onto my bed, and again, I yawned, but I didn’t plan on wasting the day napping. Not even after my long night, and what threatened to be another one.

  Imani came strolling in then, beaming. "Our Sultan looks happier than a cat with a mouse." She laughed, as I knew we were both picturing a great big cat with stripes, and not the sleek little ones that slept in the stables.

  "Oh, Imani, you will never guess what just happened," I said from my heap of blankets. It was much too hot for all those covers, but I rolled around in them, making her laugh.

  "You better hope my mother doesn't see you do that," she scolded in her best mimicked voice of Mara.

  Unfortunately, the real woman came barging through the open door at the mention of her name.

  "See her do what?" she asked sternly but was busy hanging a dress on a silver hook that protruded from the far wall.