All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom, #3)

by Tahereh Mafi

“Your throat,” he said. “Your cheek— You are injured—” “I’m quite well,” she countered, not understanding her own impulse to lie. It was just that her head was so muddled and his mood so changeable that she felt at a great disadvantage. Alizeh disliked the way he towered over her, and she wanted space from his heated eyes, wanted a moment alone with her thoughts in the wake of these upsetting revelations. She attempted to lever herself into a standing position but lost steam in the effort, the unfinished action causing the unfastened flaps of her cloak to gape open. Hazan swore loudly at the reveal of her bloodied dress, the epithet so off-color it shocked her—but it was Kamran who spoke, whose voice shook her with its fury. “What happened?” he demanded. “What has that bastard done to you?” Hazan, unfortunately, was no calmer. “Is this why you were on the ground? Were you in fact unconscious?” “I don’t—” she tried to say. “Why is it you bear every indication of abuse?” Alizeh shook her head, and a sharp pain pierced the back of her skull. She was dizzy and dehydrated, and her limbs were trembling, she realized, with much more than unease. “Pray do not upset yourselves,” she said breathlessly. She looked around, assessing the situation through new eyes. “Heavens, I wonder why we haven’t yet been swarmed by palace staff. Or intercepted by the Queen Mother herself.”