۱۶

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"What?"

"Baba's going to put it as a condition for our support," my heart dropped. She turned to look at me, her eyes bright. "I hope he's not bad looking..." her words barely registered over the buzzing in my ears.

Marriage. That's why she'd been so interested in Mehmet. Did he know? He had to be suspicious. He had to have considered it as an option. He would be stupid not to.

Did Baba know? Wouldn't he have told me?

But it was such an obvious solution.

An age-old way to strengthen an alliance. Kings had practiced this all over the world. Our Caliph himself had four wives. Strangely, none of which were currently present in the Palace.

A stout herald announced the arrival of the Turkish party. Silence fell in the room and Zaynab leaned forward eagerly, our eyes straining to make out the figures crossing the threshold. Mehmet walked into the room, his shoulders back, his stride confident. Zaynab gasped and clutched the drapes.

"Oh thank God!" I ignored Zaynab's reaction and squinted, watching his small party. "Oh my... he's so handsome!"

Searching for restraint, I was grateful for the veil hiding my emotions as my eyes narrowed at the figure behind Mehmet. I'd seen that figure before. Tall and imposing, set against the sun. A familiar recent posture flashed in front of me.

The woman from the Bazaar! She had her hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes glancing at the onlookers with casual disdain. How was she here? Why was she dressed as a man?

"Well, we've done our job. Now, let's leave before Baba and my brothers see us. We'll wait for our introduction." I nodded, staring into the melee below, controlling my emotions, the beat of my heart still wildly erratic.

Zaynab deposited me in my room, citing some last-minute preparations. I had no doubt that she'd left to amplify her many assets, now that she was certain of the prospective groom's appearance.

Ayesha and Haleema seemed to have the same idea. They brushed kohl and powder over my face, making my face glisten and my eyes bigger. They rearranged my hair, curling the stray tendrils and fixing the light veil at the crown of my head.

"Prince Alizayd is waiting for you Princess," Hamza announced from behind the screen.

He hadn't come in to see me? A cold breath of fear trickled down my throat, Baba's words echoing in my mind.

'Your relationship with your husband is the most important thing'

I didn't know what to think.

Baba hadn't refuted the allegations against Ali but he'd certainly been dismissive. Which meant that there was something bigger in play.

'The answer you seek has destroyed men more powerful than the ones in this Palace'

Shaking those thoughts away, I lifted the hem of my new abaya, a fine piece of shimmering cloth that splayed open to show the dress underneath, and made my way out of my chambers, only to find my husband standing there, waiting for me.

I nearly collapsed with relief.

I strode forward, trying to make my way to him in a graceful manner. Stopping a few feet away,I flipped the veil back and let him see me, wanting to extend a flag of peace.

My heart skipped a beat as my eyes went over his form.

The linen of his off-white qamis was so finely spun that it reflected a faint sheen from the lamps lining the room. Their fires gave life to the carved hollows of his features. His rich brown mantle enhanced the golden flecks of his eyes, making them appear even more intense, even more fluid. Zulfiqar hung through the crimson sash wound across his hips.

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