Page 37 of The Stolen Throne
When the zariph is busy speaking to Magda, I chance a glance across the room to find Pella with her hand on Reven’s knee as she leans close, seeming to explain some nuance of etiquette to him.
And he’s letting her touch him.
Pella smiles.
Don’t trust it, I want to call to him. Her last smile ended up with me having a black eye I had to explain to Omma. Then Tabra had to get one to match.
She laughs then, a small chuckle, and I think maybe his crooked mouth tilts a little more. I’ve been trying to get him to smile for days.
I feel my power leave my body before I even know I’ve summoned it. Swallowing a gasp, I brace, waiting to see what I just did, but the sand around me doesn’t shift and Pella doesn’t disappear into a sinkhole, so maybe I didn’t do anything bad. I almost relax, congratulating myself on a close call.
“Watch out!” The shout comes from outside the drawn tent walls, followed by a few more cries of alarm.
Everyone inside stiffens, and I try not to cringe. What did I just unleash?
At a nod from Cainis, Ledenon, who is still watching Reven closely, gets up to check. He returns only a moment later. “A sand demon,” he says, talking about the whirlwinds of dust that can spring up in the desert. “Big one. It’s gone now.”
Oops. I casually reach for a piece of meat and pop it in my mouth.
Cain leans toward me. “Tell me that wasn’t you.”
He cocks his head, eyes turning warm with amusement, and a thousand memories hit me all at once. Cain laughing when I stuck my foot in my mouth or did something a Wanderer would never do while I burned hot and no doubt bright red with mortification. It happened a lot, especially when we were younger and I was still learning about this life.
“Why?” I bump him with my shoulder. “You scared?”
“Of a sweet little sand waif like you?” He bumps me back. “Never.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Sweet? Have you met me?”
He hums, and his smile widens. “I know a girl who used to race the servants to a well just to be the one to fill my cup with water when we arrived at camp.”
“Who?” I ask, wide-eyed, but I already know. I thought it might prove to his people that I would do anything to fit in, to help them. What I didn’t know was that was a sign from a woman to a man that she was open to a relationship.
“You.”
I snort and shake my head. “Doesn’t sound like me at all.”
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit how nice this is. How at home I feel here in the desert with Cain beside me, joking around like we always have, even if the circumstances have changed.
I reach for more food, even though my stomach doesn’t want it, and refuse to look at the others. Especially Pella and Reven.
We’re not even done with dinner yet. Following the main course comes the heavier breads, then the wines, followed by a rice dessert—a true treat, as the crop only grows near Aryd’s few water sources—served with bananas, sandalwood nuts, and a rich, sweet cream. Then, finally, tea and coffee.
This is a feast most in the zariphate won’t ever get. This is the zariph treating a guest of honor with his highest respect.
All my years meeting with this zariphate, sometimes traveling short distances for a day or two with them, help me know what to do. But thanks to Omma, I have the added bonus that royals learn the customs of all their people. No offensive missteps for me, thank you very much.
After making sure everyone is finished with their meals, I tip my bronze coffee cup over a sliver of sand exposed between the mats and furs behind me—a sign that I am both done with the drink and that I enjoyed every drop, as none spills into the sand.
The zariph bestows a wide, teeth-grindingly benevolent smile on me. “See?” he says to the group in general. “The Goddess Aryd knew what she was about when she led Mereneith to my zariphate and my son. She is of the desert like no queen before her.”
I’m not queen. And why does he keep using the longer version of my name?
Then he bends that arrogant smile my way. “An immediate marriage between you and Cain is the most prudent decision you can make at this time.”
And that’s how he opens the discussion.
16
