Renee Ahdieh

I once had a thousand desires,

But in my one desire to know you,

all else melted away.

“Why did you volunteer, Shahrzad al-Khayzuran?”

She did not answer.

He continued. “What compelled you to do something so foolish?”

“Excuse me?”

“Perhaps it was the lure of marrying a king. Or the vain hope you might be the one to stay the course and win the heart of a monster.” He spoke without emotion, watching her intently.

Shahrzad’s pulse jumped to a martial beat. “I don’t suffer those delusions, sayyidi.”

“Then why did you volunteer? Why are you willing to throw away your life at seventeen?”

“I’m sixteen.” She cut her eyes. “And I don’t see why it matters.”

“Answer me.”

“No.”

He paused. “You realize you could die for that.”

The grip of her fingers tightened almost painfully. “I’m not surprised to hear that, sayyidi. But, if you truly want answers, killing me won’t help in the endeavor.”

In response, Shahrzad reached up and began to unfasten the bejeweled necklace still hanging about her throat.

“No.” He caught her hand. “Leave it.”

He hesitated before shifting his fingers to the nape of her neck.

At this disturbingly familiar touch, Shahrzad fought the urge to pull back in disgust and strike out at him with all the pain and rage she possessed.

Don’t be foolish. There will only be one chance. Don’t waste it.

This boy-king, this murderer . . . she would not permit him to destroy another family. To rob another girl of her best friend—of a lifetime filled with memories that had been and never would be.

She raised her chin and swallowed the rising bile, the bitter taste remaining on her tongue.

“Why are you here?” he whispered, his tiger-eyes ever searching.

A corner of her mouth rose in sardonic reply.

She brought her palm to his hand.

Carefully.

Then she lifted the heavy mantle from her shoulders and let it slide to the floor.

“Did we come all the way here for a book, Baba?”

“Just one, my child. Just one.”

“It must be a special book.”

“All books are special, dear.”

“Aren’t you scared, Shahrzad?” he asked, so quietly she almost missed it.

She put down the bread. “Do you want me to be scared, sayyidi?”

“No. I want you to be honest.”

Shahrzad smiled. “But how would you know if I were lying, sayyidi?”

“Because you are not a gifted liar. You only think yourself to be.” He leaned forward and took a handful of almonds from the tray.

Her smile widened. Dangerously. “And you are not that good at reading people. You only think yourself to be.”

“Are you trying to barter for your life with trivia?”

She laughed, the sound dancing around the room with the airy quality of chimes. “My life is forfeit. You’ve made that clear. Perhaps we should move past that issue and get to the matter at hand.”

“By all means.”

She took a moment to steady herself. “I want to tell you a story.”

“Excuse me?” For the first time, she saw a distinct emotion ripple across his features.

Are you surprised? Rest assured, it won’t be the last time, Khalid Ibn al-Rashid.

“I tell you a story. You sit and listen. When I’m finished with the tale, I’ll answer your question.” She waited for his response.

“A story?”

“Yes. Do you agree to the terms, sayyidi?”

He leaned back on an elbow, with an unfathomable expression.

“Fine. I agree. You may begin.” He pronounced the words like a challenge.

And I accept it, you monster. Willingly.

“This is the tale of Agib, a poor sailor who lost everything he possessed only to gain the knowledge of self-discovery.”

“A tale of morality? So you are trying to teach me a lesson.”

“No, sayyidi. I am trying to entice you. I’ve been told a good storyteller can trap an audience with a single sentence.”

“Then you have failed.”

“Only because you are being unnecessarily difficult. And also because you did not let me finish.

“The first few days on board the ship were difficult for Agib. He was not a seafaring man and had very little experience traveling in this manner; consequently, he was sick for long stretches of time. The other crewmembers mocked him openly and gave him the most menial tasks to accomplish, solidifying his status as all but useless. The respect Agib had amassed as the best thief in Baghdad was meaningless in this world;

“Would you like to eat something? Or do you plan to go on a hunger strike? If that’s the case, do your worst, for I believe a hunger strike will kill a pretty little imp like you long before our caliph does.”

Shahrzad laughed wryly. “That’s the best worst compliment anyone has ever paid me.”

So it was no surprise when he failed to make an appearance until well into the night.

The servants who delivered the food and wine found no trace of Shahrzad anywhere within the chamber. It was the caliph who discovered her standing on the terrace, overlooking a side entryway flanked by fountains.

She did not turn around when he arrived. Instead, she leaned over the railing and smiled to herself.

He paused for a moment and then joined her.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where my bodyguard is.”

“By Zeus, you are a nuisance, Shahrzad al-Khayzuran!” Despina cried.

“It’s good you know that. It will save you time. Now, answer my question.”

“No.”

“Answer me, you wretched Theban!”

“No, you horse’s ass!”