Kingdom in The Sand

We Have a Deal (11)

"I hear you're leaving us again, so soon as well."

Marie-Fey looked away from the view of her balcony which looked out over the grand, vibrant gardens of the ladies' palace.

It was five days since her dinner with Zahir, and she hadn't seen him again until that moment, where he now stood leaning against the door frame of the balcony doors, arms folded as he watched her.

"I'm leaving," Marie-Fey replied simply, gesturing to the other chair across from her, indicating for him to take a seat.

He bowed his head and stepped out onto the balcony, taking his place and they waited for his drink to be made and poured before they were alone again.

"The Sultan and his wife are delighted with you," he said lightly as he gently blew on his coffee.

"I can be greatly entertaining when I choose to be."

"I believe it."

"Have you repaired the damage to Zaydan's hand yet? You did cause it needlessly, after all."

"I have not," Zahir replied.

Marie-Fey levelled a glare at him. "Why?" she demanded.

"He does not need that hand at the present time," he said simply.

"That is his dominant hand."

"Actually, he's relatively comfortable with both hands, a quirk that has followed him from life to life," Zahir replied, "He will be fine, you needn't fuss. It will teach him to not go throwing himself in front of weaponry outside of the battlefield."

"If we disregard that you were trying to kill me, and he stopped a murder."

"Well naturally we disregard that, I failed after all," Zahir replied, pointing at her.

She pursed her lips and lifted her cup, then paused, glancing down at the liquid, before tossing it out of the cup and setting it back down.

Zahir started laughing, smiling approvingly at the empty cup.

"What did you do to it?"

"Made it toxic, your survival rate really is something," he said.

"Can you not just kill me with your magic? Do you need the knives and poisons?"

"No, I can kill you in an instant, no weapon required."

"Then, though I do hate to ask, why are you holding back? You're not above killing me, and you're not holding back for Zaydan's sake if you just turned my tea to toxins. Why do you hesitate?"

Zahir considered the question for a moment, his cheek on his knuckles as he thought about it. While he was quiet, the tea pot hovered off the table and poured Marie-Fey a fresh cup and she raised an eyebrow at it.

"It seems like a disservice to you," he finally replied.

"Killing me is certainly a disservice," she agreed.

He smiled. "I would do you the honour of killing you by my own merit, not with cheap tricks of simply stopping the heart with a snap of the fingers."

A chill ran down Marie-Fey's spine at the words even as she steadily watched him. She disliked being in the presence of someone that powerful.

"You are not like my other wives. You are different, you are special. It is why my mother in this life chose you for me over Zaydan. I will give you the chance to best me. You are welcome to try and kill me first in this life – just like Madeline did – and you may get to live out the rest of this life in peace. I might not even drag you into the next life and lock you away like Madeline."