My one trip outside our kingdom’s borders had been brief. After the disappointment of our visit to Sirrala, Ardasira’s capital, not even Nyla had left our city for three years.
“I hope you were able to apprehend your quarry, Your Highness.” Ali looked between us, his brow creased with confusion and concern, despite the smile pasted on his face.
Even Ali’s habitual calm hadn’t survived the dramatic events of the afternoon. But at least he wasn’t glancing guiltily at the donkeys.
Rek didn’t appear to notice anything odd, however, his own furrowed brow focused exclusively on me. But after an awkward moment of silence, he dragged his eyes to Ali.
“Unfortunately we were not successful.” His brows contracted further. “What do you know of the matter?”
Seeming to realize his mistake, Ali executed another hasty bow.
“Nothing much, Your Highness, certainly. Merely that Zaria here saw the guards pursuing someone through the forest. Naturally it is my hope that Your Royal Highness and your esteemed family are successful in every endeavor.”
Rek looked unimpressed by the fulsome gushing.
“And who are you?” he asked.
“Ali, Your Highness. Merely a lowly woodcutter. No one of any consequence.”
Rek glanced at the branches lying on top of the donkeys’ baskets. Could he see any gold shining through from underneath? I might disagree with Ali’s actions in taking the gold, but I didn’t want him targeted by the royal family—for Navid’s sake more than Ali’s own.
Rek must not have noticed anything amiss because he transferred his attention back to me.
“It’s been a long time, Zaria,” he said in a disarmingly soft voice. “I thought—” He paused, shaking his head and falling silent, apparently unwilling to finish the sentence.
“More than three years.” I met his eyes steadily.
For some unknown reason he wanted to talk as if we were still friends. But while my mind might understand the gulf of station between us now, my emotions weren’t as compliant. His abandonment had hurt, and I didn’t intend to pretend otherwise.
I couldn’t resist asking after his sister, however. “How is Adara? I miss her.” The last words slipped out before I could stop them.
A reproachful look came over Rek’s face. “She misses you, too.”
I snorted, my indignation overcoming my good sense. Adara could come find me anytime. As a child, she had been bound to the palace except for the occasional sanctioned parade through the city or excursion to the forest, but she had been of age for well over a year now. And Rek himself had come of age shortly after my father’s death. He, at least, could have approached me almost from the beginning.
My expression soured further as I remembered my excitement as the city celebrated the coming of age of their crown prince. Rek had long been preparing for the extra responsibility he would gain on his birthday—distancing himself from our antics as he approached eighteen. But with that responsibility came freedom from the palace walls. Freedom which would allow him to come find me—if he desired to do so.
I had gone to the palace myself on my first rest day after I started work with Nyla. Alone, shocked, and in grief, I hadn’t been thinking clearly. But I had never gotten the opportunity to embarrass myself in front of anyone other than the guards at the front gate. They had turned me away, just as they would any servant who turned up demanding entrance.
In the long days after that, my mind had told me their refusal was a relief. It had saved me from inevitable rejection inside the palace walls since there could be no further friendship between me and the royals. But despite my mind’s lectures, my heart had still hoped. I had almost convinced myself that after his birthday Rek would come find me, bringing messages from his younger siblings who were still trapped at home.
But the days had turned into weeks, and eventually my heart had accepted what my mind had known all along. Not only was Rek not interested in pursuing a friendship with a servant, he wasn’t willing to be the means of opening communication between his sister and me either. And Adara—always so impetuous and warm—could not be blamed for seeing reason by the time her own birthday arrived. It had still hurt, however, and I couldn’t hide that now.
The expression on my face seemed to confuse him, and he glanced again at Ali.
“Sorry,whoare you?”
“A…Ali? Your Highness?” Ali threw me a bewildered look, but I just shrugged, using all my self-control to bite my tongue.
Despite the strangeness of Rek’s manner and his bizarre opening comment, he clearly knew where I had been the whole time. Azzam had informed him I was working for the merchant Kasim’s household, and Rek was now surprised to find me with Ali the woodcutter instead.
Azzam—one of the viziers who had worked most closely with my father—had believed the royals would contact me immediately. I couldn’t blame him for believing better of my old friends than they deserved. And I hadn’t been surprised to receive no visits from him, either. As a child, I had rarely seen Azzam and there was no affection between us—it had been a sense of duty that led him to secure a position for the bereft daughter of one of his closest colleagues.
A horrifying possibility overtook me. Did Rek think I’d married Ali to escape the life of a servant? Ali was old enough to be my father!
“Ali is Kasim’s brother,” I blurted, the words bursting out despite myself. “I sometimes assist him as he gathers wood.”
Rek’s frown didn’t lighten, and another awkward silence descended over us. But as he gazed at me, Rek’s expression softened, an emotion in his eyes I couldn’t read.