Aliya

chapter thirty-four.

I pursed my lips.

There was no need for him to turn around for me to realize that he was good-looking, in a way that was drastically different from the princes in the castle.

Prince Raza, Prince Finn, Prince Cairo; all three of them held a languid, indolent quality to them, the kind that made it very easy to daydream them lying on golden chaises, sipping on wine, surrounded by a hundred different beauties. It was the kind of priviledged aura held exclusively by the rich and powerful.

Just then, the guard glanced back into the dining hall.

A very warm, gentle face, and when I turned to look at Maryam, I noticed her ears had flushed crimson.

I frowned. "Don't be so obvious," I muttered. "There's bound to be someone who will notice. If you want to exchange loving glances, invite him to your room later."

The blush spread over to Maryam's cheeks. "Sorry," she whispered, ducking her head down.

"What's his name again?"

"Ahmad."

"Ahmad..." I paused, taking a sip of my water. From the corner of my eye, I saw Maryam glance up at me.

"What do you think?" she whispered.

I smiled. Even to me, it felt sarcastic. "Since when does it matter what I think?" I muttered. "I still won't be able to change your mind."

Maryam's face fell, and for a second, she went silent. "Well, yes... But I want to know what you think. Do you think he's a good man?"

"How can I see him once and tell whether or not he's a good man?" I asked. "My intuition isn't that sharp. He looks good, but common. I've seen too many abusive drunkards that looks like him."

Maryam's face fell even further, and I reached out to slap the side of her arm. "If you want to lie, you have to be able to act. Your face is practically begging for someone to find out."

"But--"

"All I said is that his face is common, Maryam," I whispered. "I've seen many terrible men, but there are also faithful brothers, children, and fathers amongst the bunch. How should I know which one he falls into?"

Immediately, her face brightened, and I couldn't help but criticize her in my head.

So easy to please, so simple to fool.

For your sake, Maryam, I hope he is the latter.

"Well," Maryam whispered back, fixing her posture, "well, you have to agree that there are worse choices I could have made."

"And certainly better ones," I sighed. "Just-- you have to learn to keep this quiet. Very, very quiet. The walls have ears, the ceilings have eyes, and Maryam, you never know if the maids sent to wash your bedsheets or clean your closets are spies. Once any of the princes find out, it'll be the death of both of you."

I reached across the table to take a piece of fruit. "I don't know what made you think this was a good idea," I muttered, "but there's nothing more powerful than the might of the imperial family. It takes one word for them to kill you. Don't you forget."

Maryam bit her lip. "But you'd help us, won't you?"

"What do you think I can help you with? What's my position that I can help you? What ability do we have? 'Brought in by ministers to become concubines,' they're just pretty words to hide the fact that we're slaves. The only thing I can promise you is that I won't speak."

"Then that's good enough for me," she whispered back. When she set her spoon down, I noticed her hands were white, clutched too tightly around the tableware. "That's good enough for me."