Thief of Cahraman: A Retelling of Aladdin (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 1)
Page 26
Cherine clutched my arm so hard it hurt. Cora gaped at me then at him, speechless.
“That’s Cyaxares?” Cherine said, for once too shocked to emote.
“He’s the prince,” I said, to make myself believe it, heard my voice as if coming from the end of a tunnel.
“Our final five are—” He paused to beckon to a waiter, picked a golden wine glass off his tray, raising it as if to toast the selected ones. “Princess Ariane of Tritonia.”
Ariane floated forwards, full of grace and assurance, bowing to the thunderous applause.
“Princess Fairuza of Arbore.”
Fairuza joined her, no less majestic, but to less enthusiastic cheers, her eye still bruised but her pride untouched as she curtsied with a flourish in her glorious silver dress.
He turned in our direction, gorgeous green eyes sparkling with eagerness.
It would have been too easy to get lost in him in that moment, just the sight of him, if not for the crushing realization of who he was and what that meant for me.
He seemed proud of this endeavor. Proud that he hadn’t just accepted whatever bride they’d shoved on him. He was picking his own future, as much as he could, based on his own set of rules. From his excitement, it seemed to be working, and would end up giving him the peace of mind we’d spoken of in the market.
I would have been happy for him. If I could feel anything at all besides desperation.
“Lady Cherine Nazaryan of Anbur!”
Cherine squealed and shook my arm with her as she bounced happily. She checked her hair and dress before rushing through the crowd, elbowing her way to the front in an excited frenzy, bumping Ariane out of the way as she took her spot below the band.
“Miss Cora Greenshoot of the Granary.”
“What?” Cora blurted out. “Why?”
Mistress Asena rushed to herd her to the front, ignoring her incessant questions of how she could possibly still be chosen and why.
“And last, but not least, our fifth of the Final Five…” He looked right at me, his heart-melting smile reaching his eyes as he raised his glass, “Lady Ada of Rose Isle.”
Air rushed into my lungs under pressure as a cacophony of congratulations submerged me, and urgent hands pushed me forward in a wave through the sea of curious onlookers and envious girls.
I stepped up beside the other four girls, unable to feel anything over my internal chaos.
Cyrus raised his glass to the room and they all did the same. “To the future Queen of Cahraman.”
“To the future Queen of Cahraman!” They rejoiced.
As the cheers and chatter surrounded me, the last rational corner of my mind shouted for me to snap out of it now fate had thrown me a lifeline.
As massive a shock as all of this was, it was as huge a reprieve. I was officially part of the Final Five with both of my friends, and had one last week here. One last chance to get things right, save the Fairborns and get out alive. That was far more than I had been hoping for.
But my hopes had also included Cyrus joining me in both the heist and the great escape.
Now he was not Cyrus—my Cyrus—but Prince Cyaxares.
It was strangely ironic, how we were both playing the same elusive game. He was a prince who had been playing the role of a servant in his search for a bride, while I was a thief in the role of a prospective bride in my search for salvation.
It sounded like a situation straight out of a folktale, one a playwright would fictionalize as a comedy of errors. One underscored in tragedy and could very well end in one.
He was the Prince of Cahraman. And this changed everything.
I would have taken great joy in sharing my secrets with Cyrus, but I couldn’t afford to reveal my true self to Prince Cyaxares. Probably not ever.
I needed to get into his father’s vault. And I couldn’t enlist his help.
That left one way. That single opportunity when I could be invited into the king’s domain.
This meant that, to save our futures and very lives, I had to continue as Lady Ada of Rose Isle not Adelaide of Ericura.
And as such, I needed to play this game to win.
I needed to win the Prince of Cahraman.
Note from the Author
I hope you've enjoyed the first installment in the Cahraman Trilogy. Reviews are the life-blood of Indie Authors, so please take the time to leave one on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
Ada’s adventures continue as the competition takes a perilous turn and shocking secrets are uncovered in PRINCE OF CAHRAMAN available now for pre-order!
The heart-pounding conclusion follows soon in QUEEN OF CAHRAMAN.
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Thank you for reading!
Lucy
Pronunciation Guide
— People
Ariane: Aa-ree-ann
Cherine: Sheh-reen
Cyaxares: Sigh-ak-sa-reez
Esfandiar: Ess-fun-dee-yuhr
Etheline: Eth-ell-leen
Fairuza: Fey-roo-zah
Farouk: Fah-rooq
Jumana: Zhoo-mah-nah
Loujaïne: Loo-zhaiy-enn
Nariman: Nah-ree-mann
Ornella: Ore-nell-ah
— Places:
Almaskham: Ul-maz-kham
Cahraman: Quh-rah-maahn
Campania: Kaam-pahn-yuh
Ericura: Air-ree-cue-ruh
Tritonia: Try-tone-yaa
About the Author
With one foot in reality and the other one lodged firmly in fantasy, Lucy Tempest has been spinning tales since she learned how to speak. Now, as an author, people can experience the worlds she creates for themselves.
Lucy lives in Southern California with her family and two spoiled cats, who would make terrible familiars.
Her young adult fantasy series FAIRYTALES OF FOLKSHORE is a collection of interconnected fairytale retellings, each with a unique twist on a beloved, timeless tale.
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