Princess of Smoke (2020 Reissue) Read online

  The man’s eyes widened, and he made to move forward, but the guards wrestled him back, their muscles bulging as he writhed beneath their grip.

  “Give that back, you she-spirit!” he howled.

  Aliyah’s smile widened. “No.”

  Namir cleared his throat.

  Her gaze snapped to meet his. And to my shock, the thief queen handed over the parchment without further comment, returning to stand close by my side.

  “Namir.” The vizier’s voice made me jump. “Allow me.” She stretched out a hand.

  “And why should he do that?” Aliyah drawled from beside me.

  The vizier narrowed her eyes. “All correspondence goes through me. No matter by what means it arrived in the palace. Not to mention, I am most familiar with the Phoenitian language.”

  But Aliyah wasn’t watching the vizier, her gaze still trained on the assassin. “Namir, have you noticed how the assassin looks at the rest of us with disdain, yet avoids looking in the direction of your vizier, even when she speaks?”

  Pink tinged the vizier’s pale cheeks. I frowned. Maybe I had seen someone as pale as the assassin before…

  “Namir is not going to take the advice of a thief over Astaran’s Royal Vizier,” Hepzibah snapped as she extended her arm farther toward the spy master.

  Namir’s eyes flicked toward the sultan.

  “Kassim,” the vizier implored. “This is ridiculous. I am most familiar with the Phoenitian language. If there’s some code, some hidden message in whatever’s written on that piece of paper, I’m most likely to be able to interpret it. I don’t know why we’re even discussing this.” She gestured toward the assassin. “In front of an enemy of the kingdom, no less. Do you really mean to show such weakness in front of this assassin?”

  “Kassim,” I interrupted in a small voice. “I think you should let Namir read it.”

  Kassim looked between me and Aliyah, then at Hepzibah.

  “And just what does this have to do with you?” the vizier snapped at me.

  “Hepzibah. Enough.” Kassim looked at her with ill-disguised irritation. He shifted closer to me. “Namir will read the parchment.” He gave the vizier a conciliatory smile. “Then he will pass it to you.”

  The vizier’s eyes flashed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

  The assassin began struggling in the guards’ grip again, to no avail. Namir unfolded the parchment, his eyes quickly scanning the inked message. The color drained from his face.

  “What does it say?” I asked, unable to wait any longer.

  “It’s not what it says,” Namir said, his voice cracking. He slowly looked up at the vizier. “This hand… Hepzibah, it’s yours.”

  The vizier’s face remained impassive. Then she let out a small sigh. “I shall have to pick my servants more carefully in the future. I didn’t think I should have to make it clear that correspondence like that should be destroyed.”

  The guards remained perfectly still, looking between Namir and Kassim…who looked just as shocked as the guards did.

  Aliyah snatched the parchment from the spymaster’s hand and thrust it at me. “What does it say?”

  I looked down at the parchment, but Phoenitian was utterly unfamiliar to me.

  “It says, ‘The princess wears the ring’,” Kassim read over my shoulder. His face had turned to stone. “Hepzibah…”

  The vizier gave a cold laugh, then turned a haughty gaze on the assassin. “And not only did you fail to destroy my message, you also failed to follow simple instructions.”

  “No, Sister Hepzibah.” The assassin stopped struggling, anguish spreading over his face. “The girl on the stage wore the ring you described.”

  The vizier’s eyes widened, and in a few steps, she cleared the space between us, grasping my hand and wrenching it toward her. Seeing only a pale band of skin where the ring had once sat on my finger, she let out a shriek of laughter.

  Yanking my hand away from her, I stumbled back into Kassim, who pulled me to his side and snarled at the vizier. “I trusted you–”

  “Do you have any idea what sort of weapon you’ve lost?” The vizier’s laugh reminded me of a jackal, and it was somehow more frightening than when she shouted at me. “Foolish, ignorant girl!”

  “Guards,” Kassim barked, his body still tense with rage. “Seize her!”

  The guards moved as one, but the vizier’s laughter swelled around the room in a billowing cloud of dark smoke, making us all fall about, coughing at the heavy scent of musk. I rubbed my eyes frantically, but all I could see was the swirling haze of smoke.

  “It won’t be the last you see of me,” the vizier’s voice drawled through the dark clouds. “You’ve caused me more trouble than I can express, princess.”

  When we looked up again, eyes watering, the vizier had disappeared, along with the assassin and the Phoenitian knives.

  Chapter Eleven

  I pushed open the shutters with a loud creak, letting low lines of light stream into the room. Squinting against the sun, I peered out at the view over the city, thin fingers of smoke still filtering into the sky from last night’s bonfires. From this part of the palace, you could see the city stretching out into the desert, the low rooftops and delicate spires shining gold in the morning light.

  Lalana joined me, looking at the view with equal interest. I winced as I caught sight of the thin red line crossing her throat. I couldn’t imagine how she’d found the strength to hold off the assassin, but her already ruined fingers now looked even worse.

  “What do you think?” I asked at last, toying with the ends of my hair and not asking the other question on the tip of my tongue. Would you rather be looking down on all this as sultanah?

  Lalana spun around, leaning back against the window as she gazed around the rooms she had been granted in the palace. They were simple compared to the luxury I was housed in, but in the modest storyteller’s chamber, she had a small table and chairs where she could receive guests, as well as a myriad of musical instruments for her to experiment with. A latticed, marble screen concealed a door through to a comfortable bedroom.

  “It’s perfect, Zadie.” Lalana shot me a smile. “And, most importantly, close to you. Just like we used to be.”

  So much had happened since we last lived under the same roof.

  But at least the vizier wouldn’t be watching my every move any more. She would have been the hardest person to hide Lalana from. My heart lurched as I thought of the vizier’s parting words. I assumed she’d returned to the Phoenites, but spirits knew how much information she’d taken back to Phoenitia with her.

  I jumped as a knock sounded at the door. Spirits, my nerves are wrecked.

  A guard shoved the door inward, holding it open for the sultan. Kassim strode inside, deep shadows beneath his eyes. It didn’t look like he’d gotten much sleep.

  I smiled at Kassim, trying to force myself to relax, then went rigid as his eyes flicked between me and Lalana. Is his interest already straying?

  “This could get confusing.” He took a step forward, then halted again, shaking his head with a slight smile. “The two of you look frighteningly similar.”

  “We don’t,” I said, my hand drifting automatically to my nose before I remembered myself. I scratched the bridge of my nose instead.

  Lalana dropped into a perfect curtsey as I crossed my arms.

  Kassim gave me an odd look. “It’s a compliment, Zadie. The two of you are both very beautiful.”

  My mouth set.

  “I can see how the confusion was caused,” Kassim murmured, still looking slowly between the two of us. “I was doubtful it could just be that you happened to have a very similar ring but you do look so alike…”

  “Maybe we bear a passing resemblance,” I snipped.

  “Thank you, sultan,” Lalana said, shooting me a look. “It’s very kind of you to say so.”

  Unthinkingly, I rolled my eyes at her, and Kassim’s brow furrowed further, no doubt confused
by the familiarity between us.

  Spirits, this is going to be harder than I thought.

  My shoulders set as I realized something else. This was the first time Lalana had seen the sultan. My gaze shot back to her, eyes wide. Would she find him as handsome as I did? Without Ambar, would she regret her decision to abandon her engagement to the Sultan of Astaran?

  Looking at Kassim’s slanted, amber eyes and thick, dark hair, I couldn’t imagine that she would feel anything other than regret.

  “In any case,” Kassim shot me another confused look, “I didn’t just come to apologize that you were dragged so unfairly into palace matters, although we can never apologize enough for what you went through.” His eyes crinkled in the way they did when trying to charm someone, and jealousy bit hot in my stomach. “I came to congratulate the new palace storyteller. I can see my betrothed is already delighted that you’re here.”

  “I’m delighted, too.” Lalana smiled, although some of the sadness remained in her eyes. “I’ve heard much about the beauty of the palace of Kisrabah, so to see it for myself–”

  A scream cut through the air behind us.

  Kassim spun toward the door as panic surged through me, and I instinctively reached for Lalana, looking frantically about for any sign of the assassin.

  It was only Mehri.

  But my handmaid’s eyes were wide as the full moon as she clutched her embroidery to her chest, her gaze fixed on Lalana.

  And my heart sank as I realized what I had missed in our grand scheme to get my sister into the palace.

  My handmaid burst into tears at the sight of her former mistress. “Lalana… You… You’re alive!”

  Chapter Twelve

  I froze, staring in horror between Kassim and Lalana. Mehri’s scream echoed through the chamber.

  This can’t be happening.

  “Kassim.” My voice sounded thick. “I– We can explain.” I took a step toward him. The late morning light barely reached Mehri, her embroidery clutched at her heaving chest as she wavered in the doorway. Her gaze flicked between my sister and me, confusion clouding her features.

  Kassim’s amber eyes blazed as they turned to Lalana. “Who is this woman, Zadie?” His voice was strained, as if he were trying to stop himself from shouting.

  I gulped, my throat dry as sun-baked earth, and clenched my sweating palms into fists. How do I lie my way out of this one? Excuses filled my mind, but each one shriveled before it reached my tongue.

  Lying was what had gotten me into this situation. Now my biggest secret was exposed.

  A horrible dropping sensation settled in my stomach.

  I reached a hand back for Lalana without breaking eye contact with Kassim. “This is my sister.” Her cool, slender fingers linked through my own clammy hand, squeezing tightly. “The Lost Princess of Khiridesh, the Ghost of Yadina, and…your first betrothed.” My heart thudded in my chest as I glanced back at her. Her wide, honey eyes shone with tears, but she tilted her chin up. I continued, my voice stronger. “This is Lalana.”

  Kassim’s jaw set. For several long moments, he said nothing. Mehri teetered by the door, her usually glowing, ebony skin ashen. The young handmaid looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Which I supposed she had.

  “She’s alive,” Kassim said finally.

  “I’m alive,” Lalana answered, her gentle voice conciliatory.

  I tensed at the exchange between them – their first meeting knowing each other’s true identities. But Kassim’s gaze never left mine.

  “She’s alive,” I repeated. A painful sensation pricked at my eyes, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the tears from spilling over.

  Kassim had found out just before our wedding.

  I had been so close to becoming sultanah…

  My heart twisted in my chest. The real reason I fought back tears had nothing to do with not becoming sultanah, and everything to do with the hurt flickering behind the fire in Kassim’s eyes.

  “Kassim. I’m so sorry. I–”

  “You.” Kassim beckoned Mehri from the door. She took several faltering steps toward us, eyes wide and glassy. “What’s your name?”

  “M-Mehri.” The handmaid’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “Mehri,” Kassim repeated, “I need to speak to Zadie alone for a moment. Neither you nor Lalana...” A muscle feathered in his jaw as he spoke my sister’s name. He glanced at the wall, composing himself, then tried again, his voice a fraction lower. “Neither you nor Lalana are to leave this room, and no one is to come in. Is that understood?”

  Mehri nodded, tears streaming from her eyes and dripping from her chin.

  Kassim strode toward the door, the handmaid scurrying out of his way. I broke away from Lalana to follow him, and my sister moved to comfort her former handmaid.

  Out in the corridor, I hurried after the sultan. His boots rang out with each brisk step against the marble, and I had to run to catch up.

  “Kassim.”

  He wouldn’t turn to look at me as I fell in step with him. Spirits, where was he taking me? To the dungeons? To Namir for interrogation? Hairs rose along the back of my neck as I wrapped my arms around myself.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, hating the waver in my voice.

  The sultan didn’t reply. We turned another corner, then another. After a few minutes, we arrived at vast, golden doors flanked by palace guards. They stepped aside at Kassim’s approach, pressing the doors inward.

  “Leave us,” Kassim barked as he strode through.

  “With the greatest respect, Your Majesty,” one of the guards ventured, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Captain Elian instructed us to guard your quarters at all times.”

  Kassim whirled on the guard. “I am your sultan, not Elian. And I will be alone with my betrothed.”

  The guard looked at Kassim, his gaze flicking to me as I trailed after him. I blinked away the tears in my eyes and tried to give him a reassuring smile.

  The guards bowed and hurried away, pulling the doors closed behind them.

  The churning in my stomach rivaled any sickness I’d felt on The Scarlet Dancer, yet my eyes roved around the chamber with interest. I had never been inside Kassim’s quarters before.

  In the large reception room, the sultan paced between plush divans fringed with beading and massive floor-to-ceiling windows framed by wispy, green curtains.

  I waited, my hands clasped before me, as he strode back and forth. My gaze wandered to a wall adorned with paintings. In the center was a portrait of a somehow familiar raven-haired beauty wearing a necklace with a pendant shaped like the sun.

  She must be Kassim’s mother.

  I tore my gaze away from her face as Kassim finally stopped pacing, his eyes fierce as a tiger’s. “Explain.”

  How can I? I rubbed a hand up and down my arm, forcing myself to meet the sultan’s eyes. Whatever I told him, he wouldn’t understand. But I had to try...

  “Lalana fell in love just before your betrothal. His name was Ambar, and he was a merchant.” I paused, but Kassim said nothing. “I helped her escape the palace to be with him. Everyone had to think she was dead.” I turned my gaze to the floor, moving around the room. “Last week, when I went to see Aliyah, Lalana was just…there. And Ambar–” The words caught in my throat. Should I tell Kassim Lalana was a widow? That she was free to marry him now? “Ambar is dead.”

  I picked at my thumbnail as I paced, my eyes scanning the paintings he’d displayed on the marble mantle. Most were still-life paintings by Safiyya, but the last one was a terrible floral painting I recognized immediately.

  “Is that my painting? From my first week here?”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Kassim snapped.

  My stomach twisted with guilt but I stopped before the painting, eyeing the messy splodges of paint, and allowed myself a small smile. It was definitely mine. I couldn’t believe Kassim had kept it, let alone displayed it proudly in his chambers.

  I took a deep breath
and continued. “After Ambar died, Lalana had nowhere else to go. So she found me again.”

  The sultan said nothing as he crossed his arms, eyeing the painting on the wall.

  “I thought if she won the storytelling competition, she could live in the palace in disguise. No one in Astaran has ever met Lalana–”

  “Except your handmaid,” Kassim cut in.

  “Well, yes. I’d forgotten about Mehri,” I admitted. “But there’s no one else here who would recognize her. No one would ever guess the palace storyteller is really a Khirideshi princess. And she looks different now her hair is shorter.” I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Mehri won’t say anything. She would never put Lalana in danger by giving her away.”

  “You think Mehri won’t gossip with the other handmaids?”

  “I know she won’t.”

  “You really think it’s possible for Lalana to live here in secret?”

  I paused. “Yes.”

  “In the palace of her ex-betrothed?”

  “Y-yes.” My voice wavered.

  “Zadie, no matter how differently she cuts her hair or what she wears, your sister is a striking beauty.” Kassim was quickly losing his temper, his voice rising to a shout. “Then there’s the small fact she looks nearly identical to my current betrothed. How could you be so naïve? How could you think no one would notice? That I wouldn’t notice?”

  I winced, my heart sinking.

  Kassim ran both hands through his hair. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time.” His voice leveled again. “We have half the royal families from the twelve kingdoms arriving in the palace tomorrow for the wedding. Plenty of them have met your sister at royal functions. I’m fairly certain your family has.”

  My family. Spirits, I’d been so swept up in everything else, I’d forgotten my parents were making the journey to Astaran for my wedding day. Still, they didn’t have to know Lalana was here–

  My blood ran cold as Kassim strode past me, throwing open the door to his chambers once more.