I can’t help but notice how much harder she seems than the way Asha described her. “If anyone’s coming, I’ll hear them well before they have the chance to see me.”
“You didn’t hear me sneaking up on you in the marketplace,” she counters, eyes looking rather bored.
“Yeah, well, I was distracted.”
“By Nox.”
I sigh, which I suppose is enough of an answer.
“The two of you aren’t together,” she says, and I don’t know why, but I somehow feel interrogated, although she’s yet to ask me a question.
“No,” I half say, half swallow, misery welling up in my chest, pain that I have to quash.
“That’s a shame.” Somehow, Dinah sounds like she means it.
“I betrayed your sister,” I remind her, taking her glass of wine and taking a gulp before handing it back to her. “I would think you’d want for me to be miserable.”
Dinah levels me with a stare. “If you’re miserable, and you and Nox aren’t together, then you betrayed Asha for nothing. The least you could do is make her sacrifice worth it.”
Sadness pings at my chest. “It’s not really up to me. When I betrayed your sister, I betrayed the Old Magic too. He wasn’t thrilled about it, so he cursed Nox not to love me.”
“Oh,” she says, her gaze falling a bit. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a fan of tragic stories. Unrequited love is one of his favorites.” Her tone is affectionate, like how someone might speak of an ornery grandparent, but she rolls her eyes just the same. “It’s not nearly as romantic as he makes it out to be.”
“You mean Fin.”
Dinah stiffens, but then her shoulders loosen, as if she’s decided it’s so obvious it’s not even worth hiding. She picks at the hem of her sleeve without looking at me.
“I hold on to things longer than I should.”
I flick my gaze over to the girl, assessing her, then decide to let it be. “You’re not how your sister describes you.”
She shifts, making herself taller in the booth. “And you’re exactly how everyone describes you.”
I force an amused smile to my lips. “And how does everyone describe me?”
“It would be impolite to say.”
I huff a laugh. “Don’t worry. Asha’s never said an impolite thing about you.”
“She thinks I’m soft. That being soft makes me weak,” says Dinah.
I shrug. “Is she wrong?”
She blinks. “Not about the soft part. But I suppose if I tell you I’m not weak, I’ll just make myself sound less credible.”
I take in the girl, assessing whether she’s up to the task. “I need you to get a message to your sister.”
Her perfect brow shoots up. “That we’re coming for her?”
“Yes. But something else, too.”
Dinah’s perfect features go blank for a moment. “Why did you wait to get me alone before asking me?”
I take another sip from her glass. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
Her eyes turn steely. “If it’s because Kiran won’t like it, that means it’s putting Asha in danger, which means I won’t like it either.”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing more dangerous than going in and making decisions without all the relevant information.”
Dinah narrows her eyes. “What is it you think Asha will do with the information?”
I swallow. “I think she’ll make her own decisions. And that those aren’t for any of the rest of us to make.”
CHAPTER 96
ASHA
“Asha.”
My name is an echo from the hall, a whisper underneath a shadow of a veil.
Kind and familiar and…
“Dinah?” I rasp, jolting from my place in the corner, where I’ve been… well, I’m not exactly sure what I was doing. The hours, days—they’re all melding into one another around here.
My sister is disguised as a servant girl, her luxurious hair covered in a crimson veil that stretches from head to foot.
Servants, male and female alike, are not allowed to cover their faces, something Az ensures as a precaution, in case anyone thinks to sneak an assassin inside the palace unnoticed.
But other than that, Dinah doesn’t look like my sister at all.
She’s packed muscle onto her slight frame since the last time I saw her, like she’s been out hauling crates in the desert. But that isn’t what awes me. It’s her face, smudged with dirt under her lids that makes her look sickly. Paint smooths out her normally almond-shaped eyes, giving them a rounder look. More paint, a few shades darker and lighter than her skin, has been applied to various features, dulling her beautiful cheekbones and making her look rather ordinary.
This is not the breathtaking girl I’d once been so confident the cruel king would take to be his beautiful human bride, only to slaughter her the next morning.
This girl is a servant. At least, she looks the part. Able to slip in and out without turning anyone’s head.
“Do you like my paint?” she asks, her soothing voice as familiar as ever. So familiar that it’s almost unnerving to hear my sister’s voice echo from a mouth so much thinner than her own.
“You don’t even look like yourself,” I whisper.
This is the point when her eyes would normally twinkle, but even they seem duller. How had she managed that? “Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
“How?” I whisper.
Dinah shrugs. “I’ve made some new…colleagues over the past few months. Some of them have marvelous skill sets that come quite in handy.”
I stare at my sister, mouth agape, unable to decide what’s more surprising. That my sister no longer looks like my sister, or that she’s made allies of someone skilled in performing such a task.
