by A. Star
At our approach, the Sultan lifted his head, which was shiny and bald. A smile lit up his aged face.
The first thing I noticed was that the Sultan’s left eye was amethyst, just like Irving’s. His right eye was an iridescent marble surrounded by a gold-plated eyelid. The Sultan had a mechanical eye. I shivered to think about what could have happened to his real eye and wondered if no one had ever considered just giving the Sultan an eye patch. It would have been far less creepy than what he had going on now.
“Irving, my boy!” Setting aside his work, the Sultan stood with the help of a cane and stepped around his massive desk to greet us. Pure white robes edged in gold lace adorned his thin frame and on his feet were equally white slippers that curled up at the toes. I almost laughed. His shoes were just so…genie.
“Hello, Uncle!” Irving exclaimed, opening his arms to embrace the Sultan.
I started, forgetting all about the Sultan’s shoes. Uncle? This lying bastard ass Djinn…
I glared at Irving while I dipped into a little curtsy for the Sultan who was staring directly at me.
“Whatever is the problem, child?” the Sultan questioned me as he pulled away from Irving. He gave me a small smile and I immediately felt at ease in his presence.
“I apologize, Your Grandness,” I said. “I was just a bit surprised. Irving didn’t tell me he was your nephew.”
“Didn’t I?” Irving said with a smirk.
I wanted to throw decorum out of the window and punch him in the ribs. After a moment, I decided that I would. I punched him. “No!”
The Sultan burst out laughing. It was a hearty laugh for a man so frail. “I like your human already. It is about time you met a female not afraid to put you in your place!”
Irving tried to scowl, but his smile broke through. “Your Grandness, this is Glory St. Pierre, my master in more ways than one.” He winced and rubbed his ribs. I rolled my eyes at him. He wasn’t hurt and he knew it.
The Sultan smiled and his marble eye rolled toward me. “I have heard much about you, Glory St. Pierre.”
“Have you, Your Grandness?” I side-eyed Irving. “How bad was it?” Irving snorted and waited for the Sultan to reply.
“I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you,” he said. “Irving is quite the admirer.”
“Watch out, Uncle. This one has an ego and already thinks quite highly of herself. Please do not encourage it.” Irving threw me a playful wink and I stuck my tongue out at him, hoping to cover up how giddy the Sultan’s declaration had just made me.
“I am sure Glory is equally as taken by you, my boy.” The Sultan smiled, but his expression grew serious a moment later. “So my nephew has informed me of the attack on your lives this past moon rise. Are you positive you were not harmed in any way?” He looked me over as though he expected to find parts of me missing.
“I appreciate your concern, Your Grandness. But I’m perfectly fine. Irving did a good job of protecting me.” I smiled at my Djinn, who smiled in return.
The Sultan appeared relieved. “I am happy to hear it. I have always thought Irving would make an exceptional solider, but he does not agree and instead spends his time fiddling with his gadgets and toys.”
“They are not toys, Uncle,” Irving said, a hint of irritation in his tone. “They are works of art. They are how I express my love for this kingdom, and how I will leave my mark on the realm. And I will do just that. I will fight for our kind. I will protect them at all costs and I will be remembered for it.”
The Sultan smiled and patted Irving’s shoulder. “Spoken like a true Sultan.”
Irving frowned at this statement and answered it with silence. But the Sultan didn’t seem to find this as rude as I did and I wondered why.
“So Glory,” the Sultan said as he returned to his throne. He sat and his cane resumed its position leaning against his desk. “Here is a question I ask all humans whom I have the pleasure to meet: How has it been accepting that Djinn exist?”
I picked up on his amusement and smiled. “I haven’t accepted that Djinn exist, Your Grandness. Still blows my mind, and now I have to wrap my brain around the fact that Irving is not only a Djinn, but he is also a prince.”
“He’s more like an ugly rogue, if you ask me,” a voice said right into my ear. I nearly jumped out of my skin and turned to see who the hell was just asking to get punched in the face.
I found Djinn. Two, in fact, and they had literally appeared out of nowhere. The scented clouds dissipating into the air gave them away.
To my right was a beautiful, young male Djinn with the same violet eyes as Irving, the Sultan, and the guards. Clearly, all Djinn had violet eyes. His face was almost youthful, but his build and smile could charm the panties off any woman. His black hair was short and neat, a total contrast to my Djinn, but it fit him. He was wearing leather pants and boots just like Irving, but instead of a duster, he wore a dominion vest made out of a black tapestry print and velvet with gold buckles that lined from his chest down to his waistline. It was a very handsome look and I had to agree. Irving looked like a rogue when compared with this Djinn’s refined appearance. But ugly? Hell no. Irving was beautiful and I loved the fact that he was all man. He reeked of maleness and all the pleasures a real man could bring a woman. But I couldn’t deny that this new Djinn could give Irving a run for his money in the right situation.
The female Djinn standing to my left was an entirely different story. She was gorgeous, but she scared me. No, she terrified me. The goosebumps covering my arms proved that. It was her domineering presence and the way her violet gaze refused to let me go, and I knew, without a single doubt, that if I ever crossed this beautiful Djinn, she would crucify me. That’s how scary she was.
“Be careful sneaking up on her, Edwin,” Irving said with a laugh. “This human likes to use her head as a weapon. Trust me, you want no part of it.”
The male Djinn, Edwin, waved Irving off. “Glory would never seek to harm me, now would you?”
“Depends,” I said, “on if you’re as much of a butthead as Irving is.”
Irving glared at me but Edwin laughed. “Oh yes, I like this one.” He placed a hand to his chest and bowed. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Glory.” He gestured to the young female with him. “This is my sister, Ada.” Ada didn’t bow, however. She just stared at me.
“Nice to meet you both,” I said, though I wasn’t too sure if it was nice to meet Ada yet.
Edwin crossed his arms in front of him and looked me over. “Hmmm, I think it is quite clear to me why Irving is so enamored with you. And I say, it is not for your intelligence.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Irving growled and took a swing at Edwin’s head. Edwin ducked and missed being knocked on his ass by an inch. With a laugh, he rushed Irving, caught him around the waist and a wrestling match ensued. While the boys played, Ada adjusted her single eye monocle and gestured for me to join her about fifteen feet from where I stood, which was definitely a move to get me away from the Sultan, who had returned to his work and was ignoring us as though this was all normal. I did as I was told and with every step I took, Ada’s violet stare grew more and more intense.
I found myself returning her stare with a green-eyed one of my own. She was just so freaking gorgeous. Beneath an incredible top hat, her jet black hair was pinned and twisted into a style that she wore to perfection. Her skin was the same sienna as Irving’s except there was a bronze shimmer all over hers, making her glow. Her billowy top exposed her shoulders while her jeweled corset cinched her waist into the perfect hourglass shape. She had legs a mile long and they were housed in black leggings and knee-length boots with so many holes and laces that I became cross-eyed looking at them.
Again, she was beautiful and I was the vagabond who had only yesterday believed she had beauty and style.
“So you are the human with whom Irving has become so enraptured with,” Ada said, her accent more elegant than Irving or Edwin’s.
I s
norted. “Enraptured? Enamored? You all have it wrong. A few weeks ago, Irving didn’t even like me. He tolerates me at best.” I decided not to tell her about all the kissing we’d been doing. That would have blown my entire case.
“Well, how do you feel about Irving? You cannot tell me that you don’t find him incredibly handsome and charming. He is one of the most sought after males of our kind.”
Of course he was. He was handsome, unattached, and a freaking prince. “Well, of course I find him good-looking. Sexy, even.” I should have stopped there, but I didn’t. “His smile is gorgeous, his abs make me drool, and his butt? Now that’s official. Never seen anyone wear a pair of leather pants like him.” Ada stared at me for a moment, and I thought maybe I’d overstepped and insulted her somehow and my death was all but certain. But then she burst out laughing, which caught the attention of Irving and Edwin.
“What is so funny?” Irving asked as he pushed Edwin away from him and rearranged his duster. I smiled, sure that Ada would tell him nothing and my secret would be safe. I was wrong.
“Glory was just telling me how much she enjoys staring at your ass. She believes it to be one of the best she has ever seen.” Sharing a look, Ada and Edwin cracked up while I blushed a million shades of red.
“Is that so?” Irving asked, fighting back a smile of his own. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. If it had just been the two of us, I would have confessed and given him a long list of adjectives to describe how great his ass was. But all I was at that moment was mortified. I prayed that the Sultan hadn’t heard any of it.
“I think the moment has arrived for me to tell Glory who you really are before she turns any more red,” Irving said, still battling with his grin. “Glory, allow me to introduce you to Edwin and Ada Amir. They are my cousins, and the crown prince and first princess of Shrinelyn.”
What? Damn. I let my eyes flutter close in shame. I’d been talking man butts with the princess. “I am so sorry. I had no idea, Your Highnesses.”
Edwin waved a hand in my direction. “Do not be sorry, Glory. I am sure you are normally a quite charming girl and it is only Irving’s vile influence that has steered you wrong.”
That earned him another punch from Irving and the boys were at it again. At least now it made sense why Irving and Edwin thought it was okay to roughhouse in the Sultan’s assembly chamber like a couple of street urchins. They were the Sultan’s children—Irving, his nephew—and from what I could surmise from the twinkle in the Sultan’s violet eye, he cared for them with all of his heart. I figured, for a family of royals, it wasn’t often they could just relax and be themselves. Or put each other in chokeholds and full nelsons. Maybe that was why no one else was in the chamber. Not a guard, not a servant, no one. The Amirs just wanted to be themselves.
Ada, clearly over her brother and cousin’s antics, left me and walked over to embrace her father. “Sit down, Papa, and stop scrying Glory.” She helped her father back into his chair and removed the book the Sultan had been reaching for from a high shelf. Then she waved me over to them. I was reluctant, but I went because I wanted to know what she had meant by scrying.
“Papa is a scryer,” she explained as she offered me the spun gold chair she’d moved next to the Sultan. I didn’t want to insult her further by saying no, so I sat and pretended that I wasn’t totally out of my element. “He is only one of two living scryers who can read souls.”
Read souls? “How does that work?” I asked.
The Sultan tapped his golden eye lid with a long, crooked finger. “Every being gives off an emanation, or aura,” he said. “Emanations tell a story and often times, they tell me more than most know about themselves. But you, Glory, are quite difficult to read.” He tilted his head in observation. “Someone is blocking me from seeing.”
“Is this true, Papa?” Ada stared at me like I was a freak of nature. Or something she might have to kill later. “Has this ever happened before?”
“Many times,” he replied. His marble eye rolled as the Sultan continued to scry me. “But this is the first time that I have not been able to break through. The barrier is vast and true. Whoever set the protection in place is quite powerful.”
“More powerful than you, Papa?” Ada questioned with just a drop of venom in her tone.
“Oh, yes. Much more powerful.”
I didn’t know what was going on, but sitting there silent seemed stupid since they were talking about me. “Could it be a Djinn, Your Grandness?”
“Perhaps,” the Sultan said. “Or a sahera.”
“A sahera?” I said at the same time Ada hissed, “Hunters. I should have known.”
Now I was really confused. “Huh? What’s a sahera?”
“A sahera is a witch,” the Sultan said. “They often work closely with hunters to locate and destroy us, as we are their one common enemy. There are even saheras who have joined the League of the Black Cloud.”
“What is this I hear about saheras?” Irving said, walking up with Edwin.
“A sahera placed a protection on Glory,” Ada snapped. “Which confirms that the hunters know you are in her service. I told you centuries ago that your Chronolier should be kept in the vault with ours and not introduced into the human realm. But no one would listen to me and now see what has happened! You’ve been discovered!”
“Calm down, my Ada,” the Sultan said. “We do not know that. I said it was possible a sahera did this. But a Djinn could also be the culprit.”
“Who have you told about me?” Irving asked, looking down at me. I expected to find accusation in his eyes, but it wasn’t there. He simply wanted to know what we were dealing with.
“I haven’t told anyone. Honestly, who would believe me?”
“You would be surprised,” the Sultan chuckled. “Nevertheless, it does concern me. My nephew is a prince of Shrinelyn, an Amir. Our enemies would kill you without hesitation to have his Chronolier in their possession.”
Oh, they’d proven that for sure. I swallowed and patted my bag to make sure I still had the Chronolier with me. “Well, I’ll be sure to never let it out of my sight again. And I want you to know, Your Grandness, that they would have to kill me to take Irving’s Chronolier. I’ll protect it with my life.”
Everyone grinned except for Ada. “Well, that is comforting to hear. And please, call me Kasam.” Ada sucked in a breath, but said nothing. I figured it wasn’t everyday that the Sultan allowed someone to call him by what I assumed was his name.
I nodded. “Okay…Kasam.”
“Good, good.” He patted my hand, then nodded at Ada. “Please show Glory the vault while I steal a few moments with Edwin and Irving. There are important matters I must discuss with them.” The guys gave each other questioning glances, but said nothing. It appeared no one questioned the Sultan when he issued orders, and with a jerk of her head, Ada gave the command for me to follow her.
I rose and moved to step around Irving. “Don’t look at my ass,” he muttered just loud enough for me to hear. I tried to be embarrassed, but all I could do was smile at this point.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I replied, and made sure to pinch his butt as I walked by. I heard him cough to cover his laugh, and I giggled as I ran to catch up with Ada, who waited for me at the chamber doors.
The second the guards pulled the doors closed behind us, she let out a string of curses a mile long. They were in another language I stood no chance of ever being able to comprehend, but I knew cursing when I heard it.
“They leave me out. They always leave me out!” That, she said in perfect English.
“Leave you out of what?” I asked.
Ada eyed the guards stationed at the doors, then gestured for me to follow her. She led me down the fancy hall and around a corner into another. That’s when she answered my question.
“The politics of Shrinelyn,” she replied, stopping in front of a floor-to-ceiling painting of a stunning woman with midnight hair down to her waist, wearing purple and silver robes and the
most exquisite jewels. At a second glance, I realized the woman was Ada, all dolled up. But I didn’t have a chance to comment on it.
“I am the first princess, the daughter of Kasam Amir, Sultan of Shrinelyn. I should be included in all discussions concerning our realm, yet papa always sends me away. It is so frustrating!”
“I’m sure he only does it to protect you, Your Highness,” I said. “Fathers are like that with their daughters. It just means he loves you.”
Ada’s expression darkened. “You do not know what you are talking about, Glory St. Pierre. Not at all. If you knew all the horrible things I’d done in the name of the Sultan, you would not think so highly of his love for me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. I waited for Ada to make the next move.
“For some reason, the Sultan trusts you.”
I fidgeted with the braided bracelet I was wearing. “What makes you say that?”
Ada stuck me with a hard stare. “To call the Sultan of Shrinelyn by his name is an honor, Glory. One few have ever been afforded. I hope you understand that.”
“I do, Your Highness.”
The princess cocked her head. Her eyes searched, looking for something that had nothing to do with my physical appearance. “What is your secret, Glory St. Pierre?” Obviously, the penchant for using my full name ran in the family.
“I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness. What secret?”
“The one you and Irving are keeping from us. Papa could sense it, even if he would not speak of it.”
“I don’t know what—” Then it hit me right between the eyes. “Oh, that.”
Ada raised a brow. “What?”
I went ahead and just showed her. One, because I was scared of her. Two, because I was terrified of her. I imagined I was wearing an 18th-century ball gown like one Marie Antoinette would have worn at one of her infamous parties. When Ada’s eyes widened with shock, I knew my glamour had worked.