CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

IT WAS DARK. NOT PITCHED black, but a dark velvet that washed over the sky. The stars were her light and the breeze her wayfinder.

Mazeeda kept close watch of him, watched as he ventured back to the small camp he made for himself. She kept waiting for him to come back out, but found only darkness staring back at her.

She pushed herself off the sand to go and look.

“By the gods,” a voice quietly told her, “the stars really are spectacular tonight.”

Scared out of her skin, the assassin jumped back and found the very prince she was meant to kill in front of her.

His stance was poised and ambitious, eager to learn and reach out to those in need. He was naive, that was what he was. The stars above made his eyes look like galaxies and his strong cheeks milky ways. His tousled hair was like a melody off beat, strung up in the wrongest way to make a perfect symphony.

And then she realised that this handsome man was supposed to spill his crimson blood on her weapon. And so she tackled him down onto his back, and pressed the tip of her crooked dagger into his thick neck.

Khai was mesmerized by this girl, this killer. If he was to die like this, he would be glad to die seeing such a beautiful young woman on such a beautiful night. “You're magnificent,” he whispered out.

A scowl formed, arching her eyebrows down as her weapon did the same. “The only thing magnificent here is your death.” She raised her arms up, ready to strike true into his pulsing neck, ready to-

“You're beautiful.”

Everything stopped. Everything. The night was no longer alive, the stars were shining brighter, the moon quieter.

The assassin dropped her arms and crawled away, stunned into silence. All she could do was stare back into his comforting eyes. This was a dangerous game she was playing at.

He sat back on his knees. “What is your name?”

Mazeeda stood, horrified at what's to come at the moment. He was supposed to be dead seconds earlier. She was going to be punished for this. He was supposed to die. She was supposed to kill him without hesitation.

She wanted him alive.

And then she ran far across the sand, and would run a thousand miles until she came across the mountains she knew so well.

“Wait!” he yelled after her.

She did not look back, did not need to, for she felt his eyes on her the entire way. Only then when she reached Iskawr that she realised one thing.

She had left her dagger back with Khai.

MAZEEDA SCREAMED AS SHE WOKE from the dream, the vision, the flashback. She did not know what to call it. A memory, a little whisper told her.

Hands fell on her shoulders, slowly massaging. “Hey, steady now.”

Through her watering eyes, she saw Khai. His eyes alert and filled with concern. His voice was soothing and gentle, but firm and strong. He sat across from her on the bed.

His bed in fact, because the storyteller knew that hers was not this luxurious or smooth. And she did not have objects and items laying about everywhere in the room like a...hoarder. His room was disorganized but clean at the same time.

He dropped his hands loosely to her waist as her face fell into her hands. “What did I just see?” she whispered into it. “I keep seeing things, images, conversations, events between the two of us as if it has happened.”

Not a flicker of emotion as he said, “I do not know what you speak of. Visions?”

Mazeeda shook her head. “I am not going crazy. They seem like memories we have shared somehow.” She eyed him. “You must know something, Khai. Surely, you must.”

“I do not,” his answer confident, voice strained. “What you saw is merely what you saw. I had nothing to do with it.”

“You know something.”

“I do not.”

“You do,” she insisted. “You think you're a magnificent liar and you're anything but.”

He raised an eyebrow, his hands tightening around her waist. “Oh? And I suppose you are?”

She pulled his hands away and put them in her lap, staring down at their joined hands. “It's not about me. It has always been about you. You hide a big burden from all of us, from me, but I want them out. So tell me.”

“There is nothing to tell.”

She let go of his hands and pushed herself off the bed. If no answer was to spill from his lips, then she would find it somewhere else in the palace. The storyteller found an unforgiving headache as she stood, found the ground turn into sand that was going to swallow her whole. But she needed to get out of his too big room.

“Mazeeda!” he cried out, standing as well, ready to come to her if she were to collapse. “You're still not well.”

After tumbling through all the nonsense decorations, the Malika made it to the door. “I get to decide that.”

“Just look at you!” he roared out. “You can barely stand.”

With her trembling back towards Khai, she pulled the door open but found it locked. She cursed under her breath. “I'm fine. I just...I just need to find answers. I need to know why this is happening to me.”

Only silence answered her now.

She rested her head against the door as she said, “I need answers Khai, and I don't know why you can't just-”

She felt a tug on the back of her dress and then a sudden thud. “Mazeeda please,” he begged her, “please, oh gods, please believe me when I say I cannot. If I do, it will be the death of me.”

“What-” The Calipha turned and found the Caliph on his knees. The sight was a heart wrenching image to see, so foreign and strange to see a man who bowed to no one fall to his knees for her. She stood there, staring down at him, dumbstruck.

“Please,” he continued, head hanging low, “everything is not what it seems. That is all I can give you. I need you to believe me. I fear that I'll lose you...” He stopped short, almost spilling out all his dark secrets.

She slid down to her knees as well and put a finger under his chin so she could look at her husband. “When the time comes for more questions to be answered, will you give them to me? Or will you leave me out in the cold?”

“Mazeeda,” he begged. “There are things you must now and things you must never find out about, and what you wish for is one of them.”

“I see.” The queen stood on her trembling legs. She was disappointed in him, sad even. Don't make me go, she wanted to say. Give me a reason to stay, she needed to say. “I'll be going now,” is what she actually said.

This time, when she tried for the door again, it opened willingly, making her shudder out a painful gasp. She didn't, no, wouldn't look back as she closed the door on her husband.

As the storyteller walked down the hallway, she willed herself to keep in the tears until she made it to her room. That was the only place she would cry out of pain, anger, and sadness.

She knew then what she did not know now; she would claw into Khai's skin and peel out all his secrets layer by layer with or without his consent.

A KNOCK STARTLED MAZEEDA AS she was pacing the room unknowingly. She couldn't place why she felt uneasy tonight. Something horrible was to happen, something bad, something deadly.

Opening the door, she found Sinbad on the other side. “We need to talk,” he said breathlessly.

“Oh.” The queen opened her door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

He looked down for a moment. “I was hoping we could take a walk, if it's not too late for you.”

She looked back at her room. “Khai is not coming?”

“Ah, no my queen. Not tonight. He's...busy.”

Her face did not falter the least bit. “Of course.” She closed the door behind her. “Lead the way.”

When the passed the library, the voyager spoke. “I want to apologize to you.”

Mazeeda clasped her hand in front of her. “What for?”

Sinbad shook his head, everything that took place three days ago was his fault. “I should have known. At the party, I mean, I should have known that you were in grave danger.” He tightened his ponytail. “Gods, I even told Khai but he insisted to let you go.”

The storyteller looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “I wanted to go. It was my choice to either stay in my room or enjoy myself that night.”

He curtly nodded. “I understand that, Malika. But you see…” Sinbad stopped in his tracks, standing in front of a door that would lead to the south field. “I do not know what Khai has told you, but the day before I came to the palace, I ran into the small village Evilla.”

Mazeeda went rigid like a snake before it struck. “My village? But nearly no one knows of that place.”

“Well I did, and I must tell you, I've met your people.” He willed his mind to remember faces and names. “I met Shazerade, and I must say, she seems lost at sea from love.”

Her eyes went wide. Before she left Evilla, she was sure her friend was going to wed her brother. Shazerade herself seemed confident. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I say; your friend is stuck between two men she's not sure who to choose from. Or rather actually, afraid, since her mind and heart are telling her different things.” He paused. “And your brother, Sokath, is filled with anger from it as well, but mostly conflicted I should say.”

“What for?” Mazeeda knew her oldest brother better than anymore, knew that his mind was always clear and confident in his opinion.

Sinbad put a hand on his queen's shoulder for reassurance. He did not know how to put it any other way. “Malika, you're people are preparing for a war they cannot win. They are nearly ready to strike this kingdom down, and with it, Khai. And Sokath, I fear that, he will lose everything. He is not built for this, he knows that this is wrong, but he keeps his mouth shut.”

Mazeeda nearly laughed out from nostalgia. She never knew her brother as the type to bite his tongue down. He voiced his ideas and thoughts out like a lethal weapon, so how could he change now?

As if reading her mind, Sinbad says, “They all do this for you. Even Sokath, who opposes it. They believe you dead like any woman Khai takes. And what happened nearly three moons ago with you being poisoned could have been them.”

She moved Sinbad's hand off her shoulder. “No, what happened at the party was meant for Khai, not me. I simply intervened.”

Thinking about the memory made Mazeeda flush in heat. Now that she had a clear mind, all she could fathom was her lips against his slightly chapped ones. How he went rigid against her abrupt action before returning her kiss in the same heat.

There was only one question on her mind. “How did you find the antidote if I was unconscious? I knew the ingredients.”

Sinbad scratched his cheek, trying to recall the young women's name. “I believe it was a girl named Farren.

Mazeeda raised a confused eyebrow. "Do you mean Fani?”

He clapped his hands together. “Yes, that's her. Khai fetched her himself to save you. She was able to make an antidote for what you drunk.”

“Wait, is she-”

A desperate wail boomed through the doors in front of them and then shouting from guards.

The queen pointed to the door. “What was that?”

“I don't know.” Cautiously, Sinbad opened the doors.

Looking over the voyager's shoulder, Mazeeda saw a line of maids and workers in an entire line awaiting for something. Looking beyond them was a wooden platform with pillars made for hanging, the noose made of fine silk.

The next one in line was Adelah herself. She showed no resistance as she walked up the steps, her face etched with zero emotion in it. She was going to be a gift to death and she would not be afraid.

Bewildered, the Calipha pushed past Sinbad and ran to her maid. Pushed against the guards who did not budge and onto the wooden platform herself.

“Stop!” she commanded everyone who was holding this horrible destruction, daring anyone who would speak up. “Have you guys all gone mad?”

She grabbed hold of the silk noose, pulling it towards herself and away from Adelah.

“We are following orders, Malika,” a guard voiced out.

“From whom?” The queen lifted her chin up.

Silence, only night could be heard if they listened closely. The night told them secrets no one could comprehend.

And then, “From me,” a strong-willed and silver tone called out.

The guards parted like sand quick and walking out of the crowd was Khai in all his glory. He walked as if the future was behind him and the past in front.

“Tell me you are doing something wrong,” Mazeeda reasoned with him, “that you can't possibly be going through with this.”

He stopped short of the platform, looking up at her, the least bit unaffected. “I am and I will. If you do not like it, then get in line like the rest of those who oppose me.”

“What in the gods for, Khai?” Her hand tightened on the noose, Adelah standing behind her. “What are you trying to gain from this?”

He put his hands in his pockets. The smallgod inside him was not moved by her useless rambling. And it would make sure Khai did too.

“Do you possibly think this will do any good?” Watching her husband now, so cold and so distant, made her realise this was not going to work. Her quick mind had to think of something.

He balled his hands into fist, but no one would see it from a distance. “It will. Once I have killed all these people in the qasr, it will be safe again from all these crooks who refuse to confess.”

“It was never safe in the beginning!” Her voice trembled, not particularly from anger, but from disappointment. Mazeeda expected so much more from her husband.

He banged his hands onto the platform. “I refuse to believe that! And now I have to get rid of these people since I no longer trust them after what happened to you.”

She jabbed her free hand towards him. “You cannot believe such a false accusation. This is paranoia that's speaking.”

He scoffed and looked out to the distance. “After what happened to you? I think I can say that I have the right to be. You were nearly killed because someone was after me. They used me to get to you.”

“No, it was my decision to stop you when I could have so easily let you die.” Her mind was a in a whirlwind and she did not know how to calm it down. Too many emotions were clashing against each other in the front line.

“You are not going to win this, darling, I promise you that. Now step aside and let go of that noose. It's time to get rid of these bastards. Adelah, now.”

Adelah did not budge, not one bit.

“These people are innocent,” she said softly, like a mother singing to their child. “And you know it to.”

His lips curled down. “I know more than you could ever know.”

“Then tell me,” she growled out, “because I refuse to let these people die under a king who is blinded by paranoia.” She closed her eyes and willed herself to be the calm before the wrath. When she opened them, she knew what to do. “Tell me or I hang myself along with the rest of them.”

Everyone went silent, even the night and her stars stopped spilling their secrets out to the world. Everything went still. Even the Caliph.

“You will not do that.” His voice wavered, the slightest hint of fear. Fear was learning to fear itself. “I will not let you do that. Do you hear yourself? You want people who could be guilty let free.”

“So what?” She positioned her head over the noose, ready.

He shook his head, clearly flabbergasted by this woman. How stubborn she could be. “Do you think so little of yourself? This is the only way I can protect you, to keep you away from harm's reach. I have tried with all my might to protect everyone once before, but now, everything is not going the way I was promised.”

“You have to try,” she said breathlessly, beyond scared that she was going to go through with this. Scared that Khai would simply stand back and watch.

The Caliph pulled himself up and stalked his way to his wife, absolutely crossed with her. He pulled the noose away, grabbed her shoulders, and practically shook her. “I can't risk losing you again, Zeeda!”

She went limp against his body, breathing hard, tears on the verge of spilling out what she could never say. She blinked them away, looking up at him. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I already lost you once,” Khai confessed, “and I refuse to lose you again. Not after what I had to go through...not after everything I…”

There was so much for him to say, to tell, and yet, his mouth refused to let the words go.

Mazeeda cupped his cheeks to hold him steady. “You're not making any sense, Khai. What are you trying to tell me?”

He sighed and looked up at the stars, rubbing the copper bracelet, contemplating. “I think it's time that I-”

The Caliph gasped out before grunting in pain, immediately leaning all his weight onto the storyteller. His lips trembled as he mumbled out her name over and over again.

All the bystanders erupted in a cacophony of high pitched shrieks and panics. Many of them scrambling to get inside the qasr. The guards all dispersed to keep the crowd back into safety, some had gone to find where the trouble was sparked, and the rest found their way around the king and queen.

She slowly fell with him. “Khai...Khai! What is it? Are you-” Her hands immediately went around his narrow waist where she felt a long arrow sticking out from his back. It was in deeper than it appeared. A little higher and it could have struck his heart. Mazeeda went cold. “Oh, gods, Khai.”

Even in the dark, she saw her husband's face scrunched up in agony. Not even his best act could hide what was drumming in his body.

Turning her head, she yelled to Adelah, “Bring the palace physician, now!”

With a nod, the maid left.

She turned back to the Caliph. “Khai, stay with me.” With his head buried into her chest, she examined the injury. The red stain was quickly spreading across his fine clothing, like a plague.

“Fine...I'm fine,” he clenched through his teeth. “I have been through far worse than this.”

“Khai!” Amon called out, dropping down to his knees. He looked at Mazeeda. “What happened?”

Sinbad and Zaabit soon joined, having a stretcher with them.

Her words did not falter, no storyteller ever did. “He kept going on about losing me again before being struck by an arrow.” She pointed to the corner of the palace roof. “It could have came from up there.”

Amon examined his nephew's wound. He was not an expert on this, but he knew enough to know that the Caliph would live so long as there was no complications.

“Will he live through this?”

Amon looked up and found his queen's face filled with distress and worry. It was painted with genuine concern and raw emotion that could only be shown through months of living in the qasr. He knew then that she was family, that she belonged to this palace and Khai himself. He smiled softly. “I cannot be too certain, Mazeeda, but I can reassure you that the Malik is strong willed.”

“We will take him to his quarters now,” Zaabit told her.

Mazeeda quietly watched as they carefully lifted the paleing and weak Khai onto the stretcher. As they walked away, the storyteller looked down at her bloodstained hands. His blood on them twisted her stomach, the warmth of it made this all too real. She clasped her trembling hands over each other and breathed in and out slowly.

Khai had been right, there was a killer in the kingdom and it was not her husband. She knew who spilled his blood, knew it in the way the wind cried and the trees groaned before a storm.

Sinbad had been wrong about her brother, he was built and bred for war. Because when she took one look at the arrow, she knew it was Sokath who had shot it.

He was here in the qasr, hiding somewhere in the shadows.

|AUTHOR'S NOTE|

afskjdbskend.

oof. 3, 596 words written in this chapter and idk what the heck i just wrote. like why do i feel like this is too fast paced than what i expected but at the same time, it's not.

what is going thru your minds atm??

anywayyys...

happy reading