For the second time that day, I found myself outside Anwir’s room. Faint voices drifted from the crack in the slightly open door, and when I raised my fist to knock, I paused at the sound of my own name.
“Aliza told me what you attempted last night. Are you a fool?”
I’d never heard Anwir sound like that, not even when he’d raged at me over the tiara. His voice wasn’t raised in anger, but dripping with loathing and disgust.
“No more than you believe her to be,” a second, almost identical voice retorted. “Why did you lie to her?”
Anwir had lied to me? My hand dropped to my side, and I edged closer to the door, pressing my ear to the crack.
“About what?”
“Immortality.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know that she believes you can’t do it.”
My stomach dropped, goosebumps peppering my skin.
“What does it matter? She’s mortal. A few decades and she’ll no longer be a problem.”
“Then all of that, last night… that was an act?”
“Of course it was. You didn’t seriously believe I would lower myself to immortalise a human peasant? I can only do it once, Idris, and I don’t intend to waste it.”
“This is about the witch?”
Witch? What witch? Anwir didn’t answer.
“She broke the curse.” Idris’ voice was low but simmering with barely contained rage. “You parade her as the Human Queen. Do you think our people will stand for her being set aside as soon as a crown is on your head?”
“My people. Remember that, brother. And of course I don’t think that. I’ll do my duty to them and marry her, make a few princes of my own, and when she’s dead, there’ll be a new queen.”
“A witch queen?”
“Yes. But in the meantime, I have a prophecy to fulfil.”
“You need to tell her the truth. She won’t care. She doesn’t want to be queen.”
“Idris, how many times.” Anwir sounded beyond exasperated. “I need living heirs, and I cannot get them from a witch. Aliza will come round, she’ll marry me. But not if she knows the truth.”
“By our own laws, a marriage based on deception would be invalid, you know that! What if someone discovered your lies?”
“I don’t need it to be valid. I need heirs, and a disposable queen. Aliza will be dead before anyone can question its legitimacy, but she’ll leave a brood of princes and princesses behind.”
“And what if those princes and princesses inherit their mother’s mortality? Did you think of that?”
“Oh, please. Of course I did. Never fear, Idris. Humans are fertile little whores, as you well know. There’s bound to be at least one immortal amongst the children.”
An icy silence followed Anwir’s statement. When Idris spoke again, his voice oozed venom. “You don’t care about the others?”
“I suppose I’ll mourn them when the time comes, but as long as I get an heir, all will be well.”
“What if you don’t? What if they’re all mortal?”
“Then I’ll pick my favourite and use my gift. It would be regrettable, since I plan to use it on my future queen, but we all have our priorities. Not that it will come to that.”
I’d heard enough.
One foot. Then the other. I concentrated on that simple action as though I was learning how to walk again after a terrible accident. I couldn’t feel my body. Only my heart, thudding like a war drum in my ears. But with every step along the stone corridors, feeling seeped back in.
Shock. Anwir’s ruse had been grander than I’d ever imagined. I’d thought I was in on it. I’d believed him when he’d said he’d take me home.
Hurt. He’d tried to make me like him, and shamefully, he’d almost succeeded. If not for his comments at the ball and his subsequent actions, I’d still be eyeing him up. I’d been fooled by his handsome face and charming act, but that was all it was. An act. He was already counting the days until my death, leaving him free to marry some witch. Not before I’d pushed out a few little princes for him, of course.
But worse than any of that, Idris was in on it. Idris had listened to me repeat Anwir’s lies, and he hadn’t said a word. Not to me, anyway. And to think I’d wanted to help him. To think I’d wanted to ease his pain.
By the time I made it back to my rooms, I was trembling, trapped in a cyclone of raging emotions, threatening to break me into pieces.
“Hello, belle fille.”
I couldn’t even find it in me to jump.
Jacques sat outside my open window, his legs dangling over the sheer drop to the sea far below.
“What are you doing here?” My dull voice came as a surprise, considering the strength of everything I was feeling.
“I heard about your little party. Did poor Jacques not warrant an invitation?”
