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she experienced a fear so paralyzing in the company of perfect darkness that, when faced with such a fate, she held an illogical preference for death.
Everything Alizeh owned, everything she touched, was clean and orderly, for she had learned long ago that when a home was not found, it was forged; indeed it could be fashioned even from nothing.
The shackles worn by your people are often unseen by the eye. Feel, they’d said, for even blind, you will know how to break them.
Kamran rocked back on his heels as this truth washed over him. He’d been so determined the girl was a liar, had so eagerly anticipated the moment her ugliness would be uncovered. Instead, he’d made a discovery about himself. He was the villain in this story, not she.
The cruelty of her life seemed suddenly unbearable.
“What a strange girl you are,” she said quietly. “To behold a rose and perceive only its thorns, never the bloom.”
He stared at her bandaged hand on his arm for a beat too long, and when he looked up, he said, “I am Hazan, Your Majesty. You may depend on me with your life.”
A lifetime of loyalty, so easily forgotten.
Why Kamran felt this overwhelming need always to protect this nameless girl, he could not explain, for she was not at all helpless, and she was not his responsibility.
It had been a long time since anyone had noticed her or found her worthy of basic kindness.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what we’re doing,” he said softly. “Though if you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.”
“You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you,” he said to her. “I feel now, in your presence, entirely strange. I think I might fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again.”
“My name,” she said, “is Alizeh. I am Alizeh of Saam, the daughter of Siavosh and Kiana. Though you may know me better as the lost queen of Arya.”
“I grow tired,” he said, trying to breathe, “of being in my right mind. I much prefer this kind of madness.”
He realized, with some despair, that everything would now remind him of her. The very sun and moon, the shifting of lightness and dark.
She had nothing and no one to claim but herself, and it would have to be enough. It would always have to be enough.
She would be broken by nothing. She refused.
“I am not so miserly as to begrudge you your happiness,” he said, reading the confusion in her eyes. “I can only imagine how difficult it must be to live your life.”
“Do you enjoy being needlessly petty?” “Yes,” he said. “I do.”
Beware the gold, the crown, the eye One is a king who is loath to die Ford the darkness, scale the wall Two have a friend who is foe to all “Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone—” The serpent, the saber, the fiery light Three will storm and rage and fight Alizeh caught a marble column around the middle and sagged against it, pressing her uncommonly overheated cheek to its cool skin. “Please,” she gasped. “I beg you— Leave me be—” Always the jester will interfere For there cannot be three sovereigns here
