Chapter Text
Consciousness flooded back to Miraya in waves. Before she opened her eyes, she felt the soft bed sheets beneath her tired body. She recognized it as her own bed. Not her bed back home in Almazar but her private room in the Jafiran Palace. The realization made her sad, as it did nearly every morning she woke up in Jafiran; but it was still much better than the rough straw in the dungeon or even the rough wool mattress in the harem.
Her throat was painfully dry. She tried to swallow but coughed. The movement sent a sharp pain down her side. She tried to open her eyes but her eyelids were so heavy. She peered through the slits she managed to force open. The room was so bright that she squeezed them back shut. She started to roll over away from the light shining from the large windows, but she groaned aloud in pain. Her sharp intake of breath sounded like a hiss as she gripped her side. Beneath her thin night gown she felt a bandage.
The pain brought memories, like a hot white flash enveloping her body and mind.
Barika. The dagger. Malika. Her own screams as she struggled with Barika for the blade. The poison weakening her body. The intense pain as the blade was pushed into her side. She could hear Malika’s crying. She could see the child’s tear filled eyes.
“Easy Shabikhat.”
And Fayaz.
Miraya knew that voice. Her eyes flew open and she sat up despite the pain. Panic tightened her already sore throat.
As her eyes adjusted to the harsh light, she met the eyes of the cruel Soliman heir.
“Ah there she is,” Fayaz seemed impressed that she reacted to his presence the way she did. Maybe he was relishing in the fact that she was afraid.
He was sitting in one of the chairs on the opposite wall. One leg was propped over his other knee. His right elbow was propped on the arm of the chair and his chin rested in his hand as if he was merely watching a show being put on by the palace musicians.
Miraya’s eyes frantically searched the room for a savior, but the two of them were alone. She wanted to leap from the bed. The door to her chamber was closed. She studied the distance from him to the door. If she could even get up, what would she do? Limp to the door? He would surely reach her before she made it. And if it was locked?
Her dagger. The sudden thought came to her and she reached her hand beneath her pillow, hoping to feel the cold metal.
“Nuh uh uh,” Fayaz scolded her.
She froze. She only felt the smooth silk of her sheets. It was gone.
“You think I would actually allow you to pull that again? As much fun as our little moment was, I think I’ll hold your blade for you for a while. Maybe no knife play next time.”
“Wha-” Miraya croaked. Her voice cracked. She tried again to clear her throat.
She wondered if Emir was outside of her door. But she realized that even if she wanted to scream it would be impossible.
“Shabikhat,” Fayaz repeated himself as he rose to his feet. His tone was scolding. “Don’t make me have to call the healers back.”
Miraya watched helplessly as he crossed the room in a few quick steps. There was a tray on her desk that held a large pitcher. He poured something from the pitcher into a cup.
She silently wondered if Barika had been able to carry out her plan. The last thing that Miraya remembered was putting herself between Malika and the crazed concubine and then attempting to take the blade from her. But the poison. The damned poison that Barika had tricked her with made her so weak. She hadn’t been able to overpower the crazy woman because of it.
Miraya met the Shahzagir’s eyes again as he turned back to her.
“I thought you would never wake up,” Fayaz didn’t break eye contact with her.
Miraya wrapped her arms around herself protectively.
The chance of an escape from Fayaz was grim in the best circumstances. But since she was already injured, she knew it wouldn’t happen.
She remembered their encounter in his room when she attempted to steal letters from his desk per Ayman’s request. The way he’d cornered her, forced her to kneel before him and perform her “apology” for the intrusion. She still thought back fondly on the way she’d tricked him, bitten him where it would hurt him the most. He’d nearly caught her then and he was limping. Her only salvation had been his daughter appearing as planned at just the right moment.
She forced the image of him naked out of her mind, afraid that her cheeks would soon flush at the memory.
He raised the cup up to her. Miraya wasn’t sure what she expected, but she hadn’t expected that gesture. She tried to hide the slight tremble of her hands as she reached for the cup. She was weak, sure, but she was terrified of being vulnerable in the presence of the younger Shahzagir.
Too many threats had left his lips. She’d seen him kill his own family and hers without hesitation.
He pushed her hand out of the way roughly with his other hand and brought the cup up to her lips.
“Careful, you have stitches.”
She wasn’t sure if it was just a form of control or if he was trying to show compassion in his own Fayaz way.
“Drink.” The stern order left his lips, further confusing her.
For a moment, Miraya paused, considering his intentions.
But she knew that Fayaz wouldn’t poison her. Why would he go to the trouble when he could lay his hands on her. He never passed up a chance to touch her. He could easily strangle her or slice her throat. If he wanted to kill her, she would suffer at his hands.
She recalled the feel of his hands around her throat the times he’d grabbed her and fought a shiver of fear that left goosebumps along her arms. More than once, he’d grabbed her, pressing her hard against his strong body, letting her feel his hardening erection.
Surrendering, Miraya pressed her lips against the metal cup and allowed him to pour the cool water into her mouth. She drank because she had no choice, but she was also painfully thirsty. The cool water soothed her throat. But she had trouble keeping up with the speed with which he poured it and some of it began to trickle down her chin. He was watching closely.
She raised her hand to catch the trickle, but he used his other hand to wipe it away from her neck before it could drip onto her thin night gown. His touch was firm but gentler than she expected. She was shocked when his touch stopped before reaching her breasts. He didn’t take the opportunity to grope her as she’d expected he would. But his eyes did drift down to the low cut of her ivory gown where the mounds of her breasts peaked out.
“What do you want?” Miraya finally spoke, sounding more like herself even if she didn’t feel it. She broke his concentration.
She felt that she usually did a good job hiding her fear in his presence with sharp words and resistance to his never ending onslaught of advances.
His lips curled into a slight smirk as if he was happy to hear the familiar tone from her. He set the cup aside.
“The truth. I’ve been waiting to hear the truth.”
Miraya was surprised that he hadn’t just tortured it out of her. Waiting around for her to wake up just didn’t sound like Fayaz. She would’ve expected nothing less than him waltzing into her room and torturing her. Shoving his fist into her wound until it woke her.
Her mind quickly tried to remind herself of all that Barika had rambled about. Especially her plan to frame her and exact her revenge on Fayaz through his daughter.
But before she could begin her explanation, he spoke again.
“I want to know why you saved my daughter.”
Miraya furrowed her brows. His question surprised her. So Malika was safe? That was how he found out she’d tried to help the child? Barika’s plan had failed.
“You look surprised.” He tilted his head a little, studying her. “I know it was that bitch. That Shabikhat from Narsidje.”
Miraya could feel the anger radiating off of him at the mention of her former friend. He practically growled. His nostrils flared.
“I caught her trying to escape. A bloody mess and full of lies. But she’s gone now. Along with Malika’s worthless Luyka who let this happen.”
Something in his eyes flashed dangerously. Miraya knew he wasn’t lying. She could only imagine the wrath he inflicted on those women. She wasn’t even sure that Malika’s Luyka had been at fault. She could have just been a pawn in Barika’s plan like Miraya had been.
“Malika was able to escape because of you. She told everyone that the princess saved her.”
Miraya felt relief flood through her.
“So Malika was uninjured?” Miraya had to find out. The girl had been the last thought on her mind as she slipped unconscious on the floor.
Fayaz seemed surprised at her question. “Because of you it seems.”
His eyes bore into her so seriously. But it was unlike his usual lecherous and hungry stare. She swore she saw respect and perhaps, thankfulness? No, that would be crazy.
“She said that you shielded her with your own body and fought back. And that’s how you were injured.”
“Barika had plans to frame me after she…” Miraya couldn’t say the words to Fayaz. Couldn’t say that Barika had planned to kill his daughter. Even though he knew. “She poisoned me so I would be weak and couldn’t fight back.”
Fayaz listened intently. She’d never seen him so interested in what she had to say. Usually his interest was merely on her body.
“Malika was able to escape. She immediately told us it was you who saved her. Besides, in no world would that bitch be considered a princess by any one,” he grumbled.
Miraya wondered if that was supposed to be a compliment for her. That he agreed she looked like a princess?
She remembered when Malika had told her father that she looked like a princess. It was on the trip to the Padishah’s residence. It was the first time she had met the young girl and found out that Fayaz had a child.
Miraya breathed a sigh of relief. More so that the child was safe, but also that Fayaz seemed to already know what had happened.
“Thank Alrah,” she breathed out as she leaned back into her pillows a little. She didn’t have the energy to recount the entire incident. She assumed that anything more Fayaz had wanted to know had been tortured out of Barika.
“You risked your life. Nearly died. Because you didn’t want to be framed, correct?” he suddenly demanded. “Because you knew I’d kill you.”
Miraya met his eyes again. She realized what he was doing. Trying to make her look bad. “No. She’s…just a little girl. She’s innocent. I couldn’t let her get hurt. I was looking for her as soon as I heard that she was missing. But she was counting on that. I fell right into Barika’s trap.”
Fayaz’s face scrunched in confusion. “Don’t lie to me. I want the truth.”
“That is the truth,” she said quickly.
He slammed his fist on the table by her bed. The sound was deafening to Miraya’s ears, causing the pounding in her head to worsen. He nearly spilled the cup of water and sent a vase of flowers shattering to the ground.
Miraya flinched. She desperately wished to put space between her and Fayaz but she was still so weak. She was his captive.
He kicked the broken vase away sending glass shards across the floor.
She was innocent and he knew it, yet he was still trying to put some sort of blame on her. The relief she felt quickly disappeared. It was as if he didn’t want to believe that she had actually tried to help his daughter.
“Don’t lie to me. You had no other reason to help her.”
“I’m not Barika,” Miraya said quickly, sharply. “No matter how much I hate you, I could never hurt a child because of the sins of her father.” The words tumbled out of her mouth quickly.
She saw those sins every time she looked at him. She still saw him standing proudly in the ruins of her home, him killing her mother, him holding a blade to his own sister’s throat after killing his own brother. Him and the maid he’d forced to his room the day she’d arrived at the palace.
But she didn’t listen to her fear. She didn’t back down despite her vulnerability.
She looked right into his eyes. She watched the tension in his face begin to fall. He stared at her, studying her in silence for a few moments.
“You’re not what I expected, Shabikhat,” he finally broke the uncomfortable silence in the room.
Miraya ignored the way he addressed her for what felt like the tenth time.
“What is this? The second time you’ve been stabbed now?” He tsked as if joking now. “You’re lucky Jafiran has the best healers.”
“Almazar had some very skilled healers too,” she snapped. “Until your men killed them.”
He merely smiled at the jab. At the reminder of his cruel actions. “Did you get stabbed back home too?”
“No. Only here,” she snapped sharply. “Apparently it’s common here.”
His smile grew wider. His eyes flashed predatorily. It was the same look he would give her before making his move.
“And I thought you were trained by a warrior.”
Miraya’s temper flared.
“I was,” she gritted through her teeth.
“What was his name? Ah yes. Azamat. Our secret accomplice. He was so willing to help us. To tell us all of the secrets he knew.”
Miraya could feel her temper rising, it rolled through her like a flame, warming her body.
“And he was so willing to tell us everything he knew about the beautiful heir of Almazar that he spent so much time with. He said that Almazar was worth conquering just to take you. That we wouldn’t be disappointed in your beauty.”
“He once taught me a lot but he turned out to be a worthless snake,” Miraya spat.
“You teased him,” Fayaz continued. “I can see it. You gave him hope that after a training lesson one day you would let him-”
“Stop,” Miraya snapped at him.
“You teased him the way you tease me. But I don’t have as much patience-”
“Shut your mouth,” Miraya felt like she may explode. The words slipped out of her mouth without thinking of consequence.
“Shabikhat, Shabikhat,” Fayaz chuckled, but then his face turned serious. “Don’t get too riled up. I’ll have to punish you. Don’t think I won’t just because you’re injured.”
“Dikhshat,” Miraya corrected him sharply, irritated that he had gone from accusing her to ogling her and then trying to provoke her.
“Oh right, my mistake.” A flare of confidence surged in him. He seemed to stand taller. “I forgot the old man gave you the title on his death bed. A lot of good that does for you considering a new Padishah is now here and you’ll have to climb the ladder all over again,” he reached out and twirled a strand of her hair with his finger.
She rolled her eyes at his audacity, pulling away carefully. He sat down on the bed beside her. Her body went rigid as the bed sank a little beneath his weight. The slight movement sent another sharp pain through her side. She winced but tried to ignore it.
She had to distract him. He was getting too close. Studying her too closely.
“How long have I been asleep?” She kept going, hoping the fear didn’t show in her voice. “Last I heard the Blood Right hadn’t even been enacted-”
He cut her off, reaching over and gripping her chin with his thumb and forefinger roughly, pulling her face in his direction. She winced again. She grabbed his wrist with her hands as if she could stop him. But she couldn’t fight him.
“Maybe if you start being nicer to me, I’ll allow you to keep that title when it does officially pass to me,” he growled.
Typical Fayaz, she thought angrily. Not even a real thank you from his lips for saving his daughter’s life. But she fell silent.
Knowing when and how far to push Fayaz was a skill she was quickly learning.
His eyes trailed back down her neck to her cleavage.
“I expect for you to show your new Lord those scars up close once they’ve healed,” his voice turned husky as his eyes drifted further down her body.
She knew the thin material of her gown did nothing to conceal the shape of her body beneath it. She silently cursed whatever healer or maid had changed her into it.
She scoffed at him and attempted to pull her face away from his grasp but he didn’t allow her too.
“You can be my Dikhshat. You were never really his. You’ve been mine from the start.”
A strange flutter coursed through her, settling in her lower abdomen. He was always so possessive. She felt disgusted that sometimes his touch and even his words could evoke such feelings in her. But he made her feel more wanted than she could remember ever feeling.
Miraya remembered what his touch felt like the night the Sultan died. He came to her room immediately after the news. As if she was suddenly attainable. There was no longer a Padishah to punish him for touching his Jafiran Rose.
She couldn’t forget what his mouth felt like on her breasts as he held her hands above her head. And how he’d touched her brazenly between her legs while she held her knife to his neck. She let him do it. She could have exacted the revenge she so dreamed of right then and there while she was straddling him. But she didn’t.
She quickly pushed the memories and feelings away and continued resisting him.
“Oh would that be my reward for saving your daughter?” She asked coldly.
His expression changed at the mention of Malika again. He released her chin.
For a moment, Miraya almost thought that some form of thanks might actually leave his lips but it didn’t. That fleeting look was gone as quickly as it appeared. But she’d seen it.
His jaws tensed. He was clenching his teeth tightly. He looked away from her for the first time.
“She wants to see you,” he rose from her bed. “She’s been having nightmares. Nardin thinks that if she sees you’re okay it may soothe her…or something.”
Miraya felt herself perk up a little.
“Of course,” she answered him quickly. Miraya felt bonded to the child. They’d both nearly died.
But she remembered how Fayaz had acted at the Sultan’s funeral. How he hadn’t wanted her to interact with Malika at all. Not even to soothe the child. Malika had been so upset over the death of her grandfather. It almost made Miraya feel guilty for her part in it.
Fayaz had caused a scene when she offered to take Malika away from the funeral and distract her. The guards had to stop him.
“I’ll call your maid in to get you ready. You look bad. You’ll scare her more if she sees you like this.”
Miraya’s mouth dropped open slightly at his insult.
He reached to open the door but Miraya called back out to him.
“Wait, what did the healers say?” She demanded. “How long have I been asleep?” There were so many questions about her own health and well-being that she didn’t have answered.
“Ask your ever so attentive guard,” Fayaz muttered.
Miraya didn’t like that comment. She suddenly feared for Emir's life.
Fayaz left so abruptly. It was as if he was trying to escape from her. Or from his feelings.
He left the door open and disappeared