In the winding streets of the Persian Empire, a poor girl is chosen to become the third prince's concubine.
Aliya Farhad has no interest in the lofty ideas of the palace, the staff, or her lover. Prince Cairo has all the interest in his blue-eyed A...
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THE ROOM THEY'D GIVEN ME WAS BEAUTIFUL, as was everything else in the palace. It seemed wherever I went, whoever I met; it seemed like everything had been made up to portray the royal family's own definition of perfection — gold-lacquered and pearl-laced and silver-encrusted.
I was no exception.
After meeting the princes, Ismal had pulled me away from the rest of the group, his eyes glowing like the fake jewel necklaces I'd seen in the market. Behind him, two girls stared at me and gritted their teeth together.
They hadn't been called up by any of the princes.
"I knew you were a good choice," Ismal had babbled, gesturing for me to follow after him. "I knew he'd like you. He's going to give me a promotion because of you, I can feel it! I—"
Whatever else he'd said, I'd drowned out, but the message was quite clear: I was his Ace, his trump card, and Prince Cairo was the gambler. I was what was going to make him win.
At least, that's what he thought.
Ismal led me west, pulling me up two, three flights of stairs, all of them nailed into a crawling snail around the walls. He took his steps two at a time, and in my incredibly long, incredibly impractical dress, I struggled to keep up.
"This is the West wing," he said, taking a turn into a corner on the left. "All the Princes live in separate wings; Prince Raza lives in the North, Prince Finn lives in the East, and Prince Cairo stays in the West."
He turned to me, eyes glimmering once again. "Prince Cairo likes you, which is why you're staying near him. You need to be accessible to him at all times and as easily as possible."
The implication was clear, and I felt my ears flush red.
But instead of declining, rejecting, saying no in the way I craved to do, I asked instead, "Who else is staying in the West wing?"
"For now, only you," he said. "You are, after all, the only person I've chosen for His Highness. But in the event that he finds a liking to one of the other girls, they might move into this wing, as well. You might even get kicked out."
Do not disappoint His Highness. Your stay here is at risk.
The meaning and the quick glance he gave me held the threat his words tried to disguise, and I nodded quickly.
But as soon as he turned away, a small smile pulled at my mouth.
I might not even be here...?
Interesting.
Ismal continued to walk at the pace of a chicken, quick and all the while, clucking about the palace, before he finally stopped in front of a wide door at the end of the hallway.
"This is your room. Don't mistake it with the other doors; they're reserved for any guests, expected or unexpected. Do you remember the way to the second floor?"
