Before either could say anything more—or attempt to grab me—I turned and fled from the palace for the second time in less than twelve hours.
All the way home, I kicked myself for handling the situation so badly. In the aftermath of the ball, I had forgotten my new self. I was no longer the daughter of a vizier, who could approach the prince at will.
Walking through the gate of my own home, I dully noted the chalk mark was still there. I had confirmed it came from the thieves—and that they were close to discovering Kasim’s identity—but I’d failed at finding anything more useful. There must be things I should be doing now, but I couldn’t think of any. The lack of sleep was catching up with me, and I desperately needed a few hours in my bed.
With Nyla in isolation in her suite, no one was watching for me from the front windows. I managed to slip inside, avoiding even the kitchens since Yara would be almost as eager to hear about the ball as Kali.
I heaped silent praises on her head when I arrived at my room to find a plate of date bread and fruit. After inhaling it, I fell into my bed and was asleep within seconds.
* * *
I awoke with a start, disoriented, my heart racing. It took me several seconds to work out where I was, what I was wearing, and what had happened. I scrambled up as soon as I did, noting it was late afternoon.
Exchanging Kali’s clothes for my own, I ventured to the kitchen, eager for news. Yara was too busy preparing the evening meal to give me a full inquisition, but it was clear from the general mood of the room that none of the servants were aware of any reason to be afraid. Did that mean my stratagem with the chalk continued to be successful?
When I asked if I’d had any visitors or messages from the palace, Yara paused her work to look at me with an astonished expression.
“From the palace? No indeed! And you can be sure I’d remember such a thing.”
I thanked her and escaped before she could question me further. Rowan also knew nothing of any message, although his surprised look was more subtle, shot from under bushy brows and unaccompanied by questions or exclamations.
I tried to remember how long the guard shifts at the palace gates lasted. But my world had been inside the palace walls, and I’d never known much about the operation of the guards.
Once the guards had changed, I could try a second, more discreet approach, but I didn’t dare go back while the same men might still be there.
Belatedly it occurred to me to ask for Navid. As the heir of a rich merchant, he might be able to gain access to the palace when I could not.
“Navid?” Rowan’s mild look of bemusement deepened. “He left first thing this morning. Rode out and told me not to expect him back before nightfall.”
“Rode out?” I frowned. It was only a short walk to Kasim’s main place of business.
“Didn’t say where he was going, but he had an air about him,” Rowan volunteered.
“An air?” I stared at him. “What sort of air?”
“Well, now.” He chewed on his lip. “Excited, I would say, if I had to give it a name.”
“Navid rode out early this morning, excited, and planning to be gone for the whole day.”
My mind was blank, my supposed cleverness failing me. He could have no reason to go back to the cave, and I couldn’t think of anywhere else that would require a horse. Clearly I would have to wait for his return.
Mariam had kindly granted me the day off to recover after the expected late night of the ball, so I had no responsibilities or remonstrances waiting for me. But it soon became clear I wasn’t going to be able to sit still and wait for hours. I needed to be moving.
I didn’t have to think long about a destination. If anyone in the city had noticed a group of strangers, acting questionably, word of it would be found in the market. Everything that happened in the city was eventually discussed there.
When I reached it, I scanned the crowd, feeling guiltily grateful when I didn’t see any sign of Kali or the miller’s wagon. I still needed to work out what I could safely say to her about the situation. The cowardly part of me preferred to avoid her until the whole matter was resolved—one way or the other—and I could tell her the full truth. Assuming I was still alive at that point, of course…
I wandered up and down, looking at the stalls but not approaching any of them. Snatches of conversation drifted in and out of my earshot as the crowd discussed rumors of the ball the night before, Yasmine’s upcoming party, and who had secured the supply deals for each of them. Others discussed the incoming cold weather, the state of the roads, or the newly discovered lands across the desert and Ardasira’s success at allying with them—all the normal topics of conversation that could be heard on any given day in the market.
I waved a greeting to many of the stallholders, some of whom called back to me, but when I passed Samir’s stall, he hurried toward me, his face grave. I moved closer, instantly alert.
“Zaria! Such sad tidings! The most tragic. I was deeply grieved to hear my powder was not enough to save the worthy and estimable Kasim.”
I relaxed. I’d forgotten this was my first time seeing Samir since my purchase of the fever powder. Heaving a sorrowful sigh, I tried to look as grieved as I could manage with such distracted thoughts.
“It is sad, indeed, but I’m afraid the fever was too fierce for even the strongest of powders. You, of all people, know that some illnesses rage too hot for any medicine.”
“You speak the truth!” he cried, visibly relieved. He must have been afraid of a leading merchant family holding a grudge against him and spreading stories about the inefficacy of his wares.