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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BEFORE MY MOTHER LEFT, she used to say that some memories last forever, eternally spinning around in your head until you die from dizziness.
But some others — most — are remembered solely in moments, like flashing pictures or the spin of a bead kaleidoscope, too brief to be recalled by more than a touch, or a grasp or a feeling.
Prince Cairo's eyes stayed on mine for no longer than two seconds. It should have been reasonable to assume that that was where things would end, but the goosebumps running down my arms lasted for far longer than his stare.
Unconsciously, my hands came up, rubbing at my shoulders and arms. Persia has always been a hot country, and I remember long, sweaty and sticky days in the harbors of Babylon, and though I was currently standing near a glass window, I couldn't have felt colder.
"Miss? Are you alright? Why are you standing there alone?" The click of a door opening sounded, along with Maria's slow, small voice.
I flinched before I realized what I was doing, and as I turned around to face the little maid, I found that it was already too late to compose myself.
"Miss?" Maria asked, her eyebrows pulling together as she placed a tray on the vanity. "What's wrong? Why do you look so upset?"
In, out. In, out. In, out.
It took me a few long breaths to fully calm down my racing heart, and when I finally did, I gave Maria a smile.
I hoped it looked convincing, but I wasn't very confident — my cheeks felt like they were under great pressure to keep the curve of my mouth up.
"It's nothing," I said, "I was just looking out the window."
I could tell from Maria's eyes that she clearly didn't believe me, but I also knew she wouldn't have the heart nor courage to question me.
Sure enough, she said, "I see. How was the view?"
I pursed my lips, before taking a few large strides over to the vanity. "Not to my taste; draw the curtains, will you?"
"Draw the curtains?" Maria frowned harder this time. "Miss, we have such good weather today. Just yesterday, you mentioned something about sunbathing; is it not the perfect day to do so?"
"Not right now," I said, taking a seat. "I'm hungry."
One had to say that, for her age, Maria's perception and adaptability to the atmosphere was very good — any other normal child would continue blabbering their mouth away, but she somehow managed to keep all her questions shut inside her mouth.
It was either she had a very good temperament, or very harsh training.
Or maybe both.
All of a sudden, I thought of a question, and my breath hitched.
