Page 30 of Sands of Atonement

“That’s okay. I think that’s normal. I mean, it is a royal’s birthday,” I whispered quickly.

Sorrella turned from Elissa and faced the rest of us. “Listen up, girls! We’re about to enter. As soon as you hear the drums, begin. You’ve done this countless times. Each and every one of you is ready. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. When you are done, you are to meet back at this exact location. You are not allowed to join in the festivities. Stay together and be wonderful.”

Sorrella moved her ornate arm toward the heavy doors, and in that moment, they creaked open.

Slowly.

Time was too slow.

We got into formation. When the drums began, our arms rose high toward the sky in unison. We brought one hand down the other arm and swayed our hips.

Thank God Sorrella had us run the sequence so many times. It was ingrained in my muscle memory. Now I could focus on things that actually mattered. First, locating the twins’ father and his wife.

I was not planning on leaving tonight with the rest of the girls. Maybe not ever. I had my backup plan pressed against my chest.

My mind flashed back to my last moments with Salazar.

I’d never told him I loved him. Ever.

And perhaps I did.

The old Qahl sat on the dais at the end of the large, candlelit room, and the sight of him pulled me back to the night I turned sixteen. He was surrounded by gold-threaded veils hanging low from the tiled ceiling. From where I danced, I could see his peppered beard and the proof that he enjoyed his life around his wrinkled mouth.

It made me think of my own father. He barely had time to age like this. He wasn’t old enough for his skin to hold on to his memories.

The old Qahl of Tehara took that away from my father.

I would never hear the sound of my father’s full belly laugh or witness the way the ends of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

Second, I located a tall man who looked like Ezra, who sat with his legs sprawled at the bottom of the dais, and he also had thick, wavy hair. But he had no tattoos. Leaner than Ezra. Much more sophisticated than Ezra. Much more magnetic and beautiful than Ezra. I caught his eye. Casimir.

Instant recognition flooded my racing pulse.

His twinkling eyes lingered longer than I would have liked. I looked away, afraid my eyes would give away too much.

God, I only hoped he didn’t recognize me in that moment. I felt the sweat drip between my breasts.

Ezra, the last one to find. Where was he?

If there was anyone that I feared would ruin my plans, it was him. I hadn’t expected Ezra to fight like a warrior, much less run a fighting arena. I expected him to be at the palace, day in and day out, overseeing Qahl duties, arguing with his advisers, arguing with neighboring Qahls, or surrounded by women hoping to gain his attention.

Oh, no, he had to be a challenging opponent.

He was the reason I had an alternative plan in place.

My attention darted around the large room, catching numerous wandering eyes as we circled the center floor. Eventually, my eyes were pulled to the back of the room, near dark pillars, to a tall, beast-like man leaning against them, talking to another man.

Ezra. My heart raced, and I felt my blood warm. Of course, he wasn’t interested in any dance or celebration. Always scheming instead.

He wore a dark linen tunic that opened at the top of his tan chest. His swirling tattoos went from the top of his head to the back of his ear. Heat flooded my veins, imagining my hands firm around a cool metal knife, slitting his precious neck and stealing the life from his body.

The dance was ending, and people were already standing up and clapping their hands in admiration. One by one, we came around the dais, and this was as close as I would get to the family of the Qahl.

But the moment we did our spins, the clanging of our ankle bracelets filling the air, I slipped a drop from the vial into some glasses. It was so smoky and dark, with too many dancers with wide smiles, and our jewelry trapping the eyes of anyone who might have caught me.

Casimir was close to me, but he was staring at Elissa, whose curves seemed to hypnotize his gaze. Elissa’s eyes dropped to the floor as she continued dancing, her skin flushed. Always the charmer. He glanced at me again as I passed him, showing the royal family my independent dance moves, but something flashed across his face before the next dancer took my place.

Ezra was walking back to Casimir, and I turned my head, hiding my face, in case he recognized me from the arena. The dance slowed and then came to a halt.