Heart of Thieves (Fallen Empires #1)

Chapter 8.2

8.2
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She straightened the hem of her jade robe, and took a glance at herself in the vanity before she'd leave to meet the King, she'd need to apologise to him once again, to make herself seem approachable, less of a threat. She didn't want the King to start thinking of her reason to stay at court, after everything Yazia already did to get away from it. At least she cleaned up well, but no more tears could spill.

I will be strong, baba.

Yazia closed her eyes and released a deep breath. Shadows surrounded her, coating her in a warm blanket as the veil unfolded down on her again. Within moments she was back to posing as a mortal. She just hoped that the King didn't see the veil vanish before, making him aware of her true self.

She'd have to be more careful next time.

Yazia then lifted up her garment, and attached one of her blades to her thigh through some fabric tucked under her robe. Just a precautionary measure, in case she needed it.

After the poisoning, she'd hoped her attacker would be nervous to stay away, like they'd seen a ghost risen from the dead. She hoped they wouldn't come in between the King and her--or she'd have to kill them.

Blade of the jambiya in place, she let her robe fall over it. With one last breath, Yazia walked toward the door to her room and disappeared down the hallway, not bothering to close the door behind.

Once Yazia reached in front of the King's chamber, she rapped her knuckles at his door. She swallowed, anxiety piquing every nerve inside her body. But unlike last time, she'd keep control of it. Yazia didn't need to wait long, as though the King had been awaiting her. He opened the door, and they locked eyes for a moment.

Yazia noticed his shemagh first. He hadn't worn one previously, but the chiffon cloth wrapped around his head and tied a simple knot at the back accentuated his facial features. Her eyes trailed from the purple bruise forming on his head, to his blue stare and his neatly trimmed beard, then drifting to the long thobe that he wore. The kandora garment was an obsidian black just like everything else, including his leather gloves.

"I almost expected you'd try to run away again." The King half joked.

Yazia swallowed. Yesterday she did want to run away, but today that was not a choice. "I came to apologise," she said. "I am sorry once again for the events of the last days, and its disruption in your court. If you'd like for me to leave, then I will have myself packed and gone by morning."

That was a partial lie. Yazia could only actually leave when she completed the task she'd signed up for, and got it over with--when this man in front of her was dead.

The King arched a thick brow, his burly physique resting against the door frame. "Yalla, let's take a walk."

Yazia bowed her head in slight agitation that he didn't answer her. She wondered why he'd wish to walk with her now of all times, her of all people at court. It was a fact that she was most probably his least favourite person right now. Yazia thought that he would not enjoy her company after she had assaulted him with one of his candles last night.

But she obliged, and let him lead the way, following down the pristine halls of the palace. The swirl of his familiar loamy cologne wafted through the air. She found herself being guided into the royal gardens, remembering what it looked like in the moonlight just a few nights back as she crossed under the archway again.

Now that it was day, the garden was much different--Yazia could see the intricate designs emblazoned on the white archway, reminding her of lace.
To her left was the bench she and Prince Aeneas had sat at during the night of the ball, also engraved with the same designs that covered the palace and its architecture, with a matching bench on the far right. Set in the middle, a circular marble fountain rested, the water flowing from it, like the argument between cold porcelain and the warm water only hot due to the patronising heat of the sun blazing above the desert.