by Emma Hamm
Abdul leaned down and whispered in his ear, “A punishment for such transgressions is normal, Sultan. The woman clearly strayed from her marriage bonds.”
“Is it really all that important?” Nadir looked up at his advisor, fire burning in his gaze. “How much does that matter to a sultan running his lands?”
Without waiting for his advisor’s thoughts, he looked back at the couple. “I cannot help you with your personal lives. This is something you and your wife need to discuss.” He almost stopped speaking there, but something burned in his chest still. “That child was born into your arms. Father falls from its lips in reference to you and you alone. That is not something you should take so lightly. As your Sultan, I urge you to take the baby as your own and ignore the transgression. The child is innocent, your wife…” He looked at the woman. “Why did you stray?”
She shivered again, holding the baby to her chest with a gentle hold Nadir admired. “Not willingly, Sultan.”
Rage burned so hot that he knew his eyes would change. The man stared at him, jaw agape. A dragon looked back at him, his anger heating the air. “Tell my personal guards who attacked you, dear one. Every detail you can remember. No one should touch a woman without her consent.”
The woman nodded, seemingly dazed as one of his own guards stepped down from the podium and reached out for her elbow. She drifted from the hall, leaving her husband alone and defiantly staring at his sultan.
“It doesn’t change anything,” the man grunted. “She still strayed. That child isn’t mine, and I have enough mouths to feed.”
“Then you shall not have one more.” It took everything Nadir had not to eat the man. The desire to feel his bones crunching beneath his teeth was so strong that he had to grip the arms of the throne not to launch forward. He glared toward his concubines and nodded at one. “See that the woman and child have a place to rest.”
He didn’t have to say it again. The beautiful flowers of his concubines immediately stood, and raced in the direction the woman had fled.
Again, he felt the ghost of Sigrid. She would have smiled at his actions here. Perhaps even squeezed his fingers to let him know she had approved. No one else would have known she had liked his choice, of course. She wouldn’t have let anyone realize that.
Yet, he would have known. He had always felt her happiness like a touch upon his body.
The man before him spluttered, shouting curses at the sultan and immediately removed from the hall by guards who had stepped forward. The man would never see his wife again. In Nadir’s opinion, it wasn’t a great loss for the woman who had suffered so much. She’d be happy here. He’d make her a concubine, in name only, and ensure that her life was comfortable and her child well taken care of.
Such things meant more than a husband.
Abdul leaned down and hissed, “She likely has more children with the man, you fool. What will those children suffer now?”
He couldn’t stand to listen to the poison in Abdul’s voice. Instead, Nadir flagged down one of his guards to lean down. As soon as the man was close enough, he said, “Find the rest of the children. Ask around and see if this man is as violent with his offspring as he is with his wife. If the neighbors are suspicious, take the children back here with you.”
The guard straightened and immediately left with two other men.
A scoff echoed beside him. “Do you think this will win you the love of your people? You said it yourself, interfering with their personal lives is not your priority.”
“No, I don’t think it’s going to win me that man’s support. I think those children will be safer and happier here. It is worth the sacrifice of one person’s opinion.”
He needed to get out of this room. He could hardly breathe while Abdul stared him down, the rest of the advisors murmured among themselves, even the other peasants were talking. His actions were just, he knew that. Their approval was unnecessary when his gut told him it was the right thing to do.
Then why couldn’t he breathe anymore?
They were staring at him with judgement in their eyes, he knew it. How could they not? Their sultan had been a selfish, vain man with nothing more than a few years of experience and a lot of people pulling his strings like a puppet. Having him change so much was bound to confuse them.
Everything made him uncomfortable these days. His palms grew sweaty just meeting the eyes of his people, even one person. His heart beat faster at the thought of their opinions. A mere hint of someone else’s opinions gave him cold chills over his body.
Was there something wrong with him? He’d always wondered it, but hadn’t realized how bad the state of his mind was until he had taken the reins of his own life. Nadir didn’t know how to live. How to love. How to do anything other than look to another person to make decisions for him.
He stilled his bouncing leg, forcing his body not to get up and run. He couldn’t leave without a reason, even though he was sultan of these lands. Damned lungs wouldn’t inhale properly, leaving him almost gasping like a fish out of water.
Still your mind, he told himself. Imagining relaxation rising from his toes to his head, a wave of calm washed over him, and he wished it would help him through a few more hours of this hell.
Even that didn’t work.
Eyes wild, he stared out at the crowd of people and tried to find someone to look at that wasn’t judging him. Someone who was a kind soul, where the emotion radiated out of them and could ground him.
He paused, spine stiffening, when his gaze met another man’s who looked remarkably like him.
Dark eyes, dark hair, caramel skin and a hawkish nose that was almost too sharp for his face. There was a roundness to the other man’s features, perhaps puffier cheeks, that wasn’t from Nadir’s lineage. Yet, there was something familiar about the man.
The man looked toward a side door that lead into the throne room, one that was only used by servants as far as Nadir knew. Then, breaking eye contact, the man stepped away and disappeared through the door.
Did he want Nadir to follow him? That would be foolish. Far too many people wanted to see Nadir dead, and that included his first wife. This man could be an assassin for all he knew.
The thought made him pause. Assassin. Of course he was. This was the person whom Tahira had spoken of, the man the Alqatara sent.
He glanced at his advisors, still murmuring amongst each other, and decided in that moment it was worth the risk. Whether this man was an assassin sent to kill him, or an assassin sent to take his place, was a detail he couldn’t risk losing because he brought a few guards.
Gesturing to one of the few personal guards left around him, he said, “I’ll be back in a few moments. I need some water.”
“I can get that for you, Your Highness.”
“I’d rather stretch my legs. It’s been a long day.” He grinned. “And it’s only going to get longer, wouldn’t you agree?”
The guard seemed surprised for a moment, then nodded and hesitantly smiled back. Nadir missed Raheem. He would have jested back, treated Nadir like an equal, not like someone who was going to lash out and have him beheaded.
He stood, ignored the questioning call from Abdul, and made his way to the side door. The crowd of people watched as he moved. Nadir kept to the edges, making certain not to touch anyone or stare at them for too long. They’d expect something from the sultan if he gave them any attention. And right now, he wasn’t the Sultan of Bymere.
He was just a young man, panicking at the power which he held.
Slipping through the side door, darkness immediately blinded him. To go from such stunning sunlight filtered through his throne room into complete and utter darkness was disorienting to say the least. Worst of all, he knew there was someone in here who looked remarkably like him.
A match struck in the darkness, flaring briefly to illuminate the face of the man. Harsh shadows appeared, narrowing the wider cheeks.
He looked like Hakim, Nadir realized. So much like Hakim that it
made his chest seize with the specter of his brother standing before him so clearly.
“Follow me,” the man said.
“Who are you?”
The man did not respond. Instead, he touched the match to a torch and strode down the long, narrow hallway.
Should Nadir follow him? His people would notice if the sultan was gone too long, and there wasn’t much time for him to chat with this stranger.
He plunged into the shadows after the man, following the dim light of the torch.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere they can’t hear us.”
Nadir looked around them, certain no one would follow him into these corridors. It appeared even servants hadn’t used it in ages. “I don’t think anyone can hear.”
“You’ve lived in this castle your entire life, and haven’t realized the palace has ears everywhere?” The man turned. The look in his eye was so similar to Hakim it made Nadir’s heart hurt. “I thought better of you, Sultan.”
“Do we know each other?”
The man shook his head, “Not yet.”
They paused next to a door, leading somewhere Nadir didn’t recognize. He hadn’t been in this part of the palace since he was a child. Even then, his brother hadn’t liked to take him into the servants’ quarters. It wasn’t proper for a sultan to be seen here among the folk that worked for them.
The man ducked his head as he entered, scanned the room, then dragged Nadir through by the arm.
When was the last time someone had touched him without asking? Sigrid certainly, his advisors only rarely, but Nadir was always asked to make sure he was comfortable. Did the man not understand he could have him killed immediately? All he had to do was yell and the guards would arrive.
Apparently, this visitor wasn’t worried about that in the slightest. He pulled so hard Nadir stumbled into the store room which was filled to the brim with what smelled like potatoes.
“What are you doing?” he snapped, pulling his clothes down where the man had wrinkled them.
“You’ll be fine.”
“I haven’t been handled like that—”
“Yes, I know. Likely never. I need you to stop talking now, Sultan of Bymere, and listen to me very carefully. The leader of the Alqatara has called you to her side. I don’t care if she’s your maternal mother. She didn’t raise you, and you aren’t the man she would have wanted you to become. With that aside, I am here to take your place.”
Nadir looked the man up and down. How dare he? The audacity of the man! “Explain why I should trust you in the slightest. I have no idea who you are.”
The man’s smile seemed a little too sarcastic for Nadir’s liking. “You’ll find out soon enough. For now, I’m the man who looks enough like you to take your place on the throne. Now, I need you to go back and allow me to cut your face, like Tahira said. It’s not exactly the best situation, but it’ll have to do. “
Nadir lifted a hand. “Stop talking. Explain who you are, why you are qualified to take on the role of sultan, and what makes you think I’d go along with this plan so willing. I have no idea who you are.”
“My name is Solomon. I have dedicated my life to the Alqatara, and thusly, am a trained assassin. I could kill you with just one hand. Likely the rest of your guards as well. And you should trust me, because the leader of the Alqatara does.”
“Trust isn’t laid at your feet like roses because you exist. Give me a reason to trust my kingdom in your hands.”
The man, Soloman, scoffed. “Like you’ve cared about the kingdom so much during your reign? I won’t change much, if that’s what you’re asking. My role is to stay as silent as possible, stop your advisors from doing foolish things, and give you the time you need.”
“How long is that exactly?”
“Depends on you,” Solomon replied, shrugging. “There’s much you have to learn. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to do it faster than a year.”
“I don’t like challenges.”
“Why? Because you rise to them or because you don’t appreciate being challenged?”
Nadir found he didn’t like this man’s face. No matter how much he looked like Hakim, the arrogance in his features was decidedly wrong. This man wouldn’t make a good sultan. He wouldn’t make a good leader or anything else that needed someone with a level head and a kind heart.
He wouldn’t replace Nadir well at all. The man wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut long enough for Nadir to walk five steps away.
Two heartbeats passed and suddenly Nadir was an inch from Solomon's face. He didn’t remember moving. The dragon in his chest heated so powerfully that he was no longer in control of his body.
Smoke curled out of his nose, obscuring his vision for a second. “You walk a dangerous path, wanderer.”
“I do what a true warrior bids me to do. I feel no fear.” Solomon's nostrils flared. “Do you, Sultan? Do you recognize fear in your chest? I wonder if that’s why you’re reacting so poorly. You really should control your dragon better.”
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“We don’t have time to argue like this. Your guards are going to wonder where you are, and I very much would like to kill them. It wouldn’t end well for either of us, but I could paint your walls red and remind you why the Alqatara are feared throughout both kingdoms.”
Nadir stayed as long as he dared. The man obviously meant the words he said, even though they were cruel and unusual. Stepping back a few feet, he clenched his fists and forced the raging dragon back beneath his skin. “Are you able to impersonate someone you don’t know?”
“I’ve been watching you for months now, actually. You didn’t see me. No one did. I know how you act, how you speak.”
“Prove it.”
Solomon's entire posture changed immediately. His shoulders were a little straighter, his face more relaxed, his eyes softening. He’d sucked in his cheeks, perhaps, and all of a sudden it felt very nearly like Nadir was looking in a mirror.
He circled the other man, looking up and down while nodding. “It’s not bad. But how’s your speech?”
“Better than yours.” Solomon’s accent even changed in the slightest, so he sounded more like a royal Bymerian who was comfortable both in their language and the common tongue. “I have trained extensively for this moment in time.”
“You make it seem as though the Alqatara have always planned this.”
Solomon fell silent, his dark eyes finding Nadir’s before he reverted back to himself. “Fine. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but we have planned for this. The goal was always to take you back home to your mother.”
“Why?”
“That’s a question you’ll have to ask her, not me.”
Nadir wanted to push. The moment he opened his mouth, however, he saw this man wasn’t going to budge. This was a warrior who had dedicated his life to a single person. Secrets would never flow from his lips like a waterfall. Not to Nadir, at least.
Was this the right choice for the kingdom? The man had already said he didn’t plan on changing things. The Alqatara didn’t want to replace the royals with their own people. And from what he’d read of their association, that was true to who they were.
They were assassins who served the Sultan in times of great war and strife. They didn’t try to overthrow the kingdom. They worked for it.
But he hadn’t been a good Sultan in the past few years. Or… well, really ever. He wouldn’t blame them for thinking it was something in the blood that made him such a poor ruler. Perhaps it was more than just his mind, but the way he was raised, and the bloodline that had ruled this kingdom for centuries.
Looking at the man in front of him, Nadir was quite certain that wasn’t their intent. They wanted to meet with him. No one would tell him why.
He narrowed his eyes. “If I let you do this, why do you need me to wound my face?”
“Didn’t Tahira already explain this? If someone looks at me, they’ll kn
ow it isn’t you. Anyone close enough to see you every day would know. We can’t have that. I will need some excuse to cover that pretty face of yours. A little knife injury is quick enough to heal, but if you take time then I can explain it’s the scar that makes me uncomfortable.”
“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?”
Solomon inclined his head, “We do that.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard. I spent hours in the library a few nights ago trying to find any information I can on you. There’s not much.”
“I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”
“Since when?” Nadir focused on the words that rang with some kind of truth he couldn’t understand. Had this man been in the palace before? He looked so very much like Nadir. Not a single fiber of his being wanted to acknowledge this man might be some kind of relation. A cousin, perhaps? Certainly not someone he would have come across before.
“We’re wasting time. If you want to do this, then we need to do it now. There’s much to prepare for,” Solomon urged.
“You’re throwing a knife at my face. I don’t think there’s a lot to plan for.”
“Then you agree?”
If the man pushed one more time… but there really wasn’t anything else for him to think about. Nadir already knew he was going to do this. No matter whether it put the kingdom in danger, he had to know who he was. Where he came from.
Who his mother truly was.
He lifted a finger and pointed at the other man. “You don’t touch my concubines.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“You change nothing about this kingdom. I’ve spent enough time trying to put it back together. There are a lot of good people in good places working to change the way this kingdom is run. If you throw a pebble into the wheel, everything will fall out of place. I won’t pick up any pieces you destroy.”
Solomon smirked. “I hadn’t intended upon that, Sultan of Bymere.”
“Don’t forget that. This is my kingdom, my people. I will return and shred you. Assassin or no, you won’t be able to fight a dragon in close quarters.”