Karis was dead, but she still reigned over this caravan and Ziyad's heart. She always would.
But that didn't change the fact that Amani desperately wished her husband might love her just as fiercely as he'd once loved Karis.
"This is your life now," Amani whispered to herself. "You'll have to get used to your heart breaking every single day. The man you love doesn't love you."
Forcing herself to rise, Amani dressed and ate a few slices of food from the tray she hadn't touched the night before. She felt drained, as if she'd been crying all night. But she wasn't going to let it stop her.
If she couldn't gain Ziyad's heart, then perhaps she could gain the hearts of his people. He'd said they would come to love her. Maybe in their eyes, she could find her purpose, something beyond merely being the mother to the Spider's heir.
Amani opened her door and leapt from her moving steps. She stumbled, but managed not to fall.
"Much better this time, Your Grace!"
She turned to find Hyram smiling at her. She had to wonder if the man was a guard, for he never seemed to leave his post near her carav.
She returned his smile. "Thank you!"
"Have you been practicing?"
"No," she answered, wiping the dirt from her robes as she walked. "Just determined."
"A fine quality for the Spider's…" He paused. "Ahem, his bride, Your Grace." His tone had turned sour. Could it be Ziyad's people didn't like her circumstance just as much as she?
"As well as acceptance," she replied, just as sourly.
Hyram snickered. "I suppose you're right."
"My husband says we'll reach his oasis this evening."
"That we should," he answered, nodding.
They walked on in silence before Amani spoke again. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course." Hyram bowed as he walked.
"What do the people think of me?"
"Well…Your Grace, I can't speak for the others."
"All right. Then what do you think of me?"
Hyram put his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "You are a wonderful choice to bear the Spider his heirs."
Another long silence descended between them.
"Did you love Karis?" Amani watched as Hyram took a deep breath.
"I loved my princess very much," he told her. "She was a loving woman with a good heart. She was the mother of this caravan and she looked forward to giving the Spider a son. She fairly glowed. Pregnancy agreed with her, if you don't mind me saying."
Amani stared out at the faraway dunes. She'd been so caught up in Ziyad losing his wife, that she'd forgotten he also mourned his heir. But it was clear to her that the people of his caravan had loved Karis almost as much as he did.
"I'm not here to replace her, Hyram," she said in a small voice. "I want you to know that. Karis was a lucky woman, to be so loved."
"She is with the god of Spiders now, Your Grace," he answered. "Perhaps she looks down on us."
Amani glanced at the sky. "Perhaps she does."
~ * ~
Amani wanted to exhaust herself. If she kept walking, if she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, she could keep her mind off the fact that she'd never be able to compete with Karis. She had no idea it would affect her so deeply. It hadn't been too long ago she thought perhaps the love of a child or the love of Ziyad's people could fill the void in her heart.
Now she wasn't so sure.
But she was determined not to pity herself. She'd chosen to marry the Spider Prince. She could have walked away. She would have shamed him, her father, and herself, but she could have said no.
But the longer she walked alongside the Spider's caravan, the more she came to realize the reasons she thought were legitimate for marrying Ziyad were just excuses. Secretly, in her heart of hearts, she'd thought he would come to love her. Amani had hoped he would look at her differently and realize he couldn't live without her.
What a fool she'd been. These past two years waiting for him to marry her should have given her a clue to her future. She would forever be an outsider in the Spider's caravan, allowed to wear his colors, but never his love.
She was so thirsty. It had to be late afternoon. But she wasn't going to stop until they camped for the night. Maybe if she collapsed in her carav tonight, she wouldn't dream of her husband.
As if he'd heard her thoughts, he appeared beside her. "How long have you been walking, Amani?"
"I don't know," she answered, wiping her brow.
"Hyram tells me you have been walking for hours. And without a dunla for your head. Look at you, your cheeks are flushed! Do you have water?"
"Back in my carav, probably."
"Are you mad, woman?"
She chuckled at his tone. "I think I might be."
He gave her a strange look. "Come." Ziyad grabbed her arm and dragged her along behind him. The heat had drained her, just as she wanted, but that meant she had no strength to fight him.
Amani's eyes widened when she realized where he was taking her. His royal carav. Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms, opened his door with his magic, and bounded up the steps with a grace she'd never possess. Once inside, he kicked his door shut and set her down.
Amani had to blink a few times to get her eyes to adjust to the dark, but she sighed at the cool air. All she wanted to do was sink to the floor and sleep. Ziyad led her across the carav and sat her on a pedestal. It was surrounded with soft pillows and black silks.
It was his throne.
"Spider, no," she protested, trying to stand. He pushed her back down.
Ziyad loomed over her as he reached for something near the throne, but he didn't speak. When he straightened, she noticed he held a silver pitcher embossed with a spider and filled with water. He poured some into a matching goblet and handed it to her.
"You should know better than to walk in the desert with no water." Despite his harsh words, his voice was as smooth as the silks she sat on.
Amani drank, being careful to take small sips. The cool liquid felt heavenly sliding down her throat and pooling in her belly.
"Your skin is hot to the touch." Without another word, Ziyad dipped his hands into the pitcher. Once they were wet, he brought his palms to her cheeks. The sensation made her gasp with delight.
Ziyad got his hands wet again, then wet her eyes, her forehead, her chin. Amani turned her head up, gazing into his eyes as he stood before her. She was unable to look away. His caress was so gentle and the water so cool, that Amani shivered at his ministrations.
With another dunk of his hands, his fingers delved into
her hair, leaving trails of water behind him.
"Never do that again," he whispered. "The desert is an unforgiving place." He dipped his fingers and trailed them through her hair once more. "Feel good?"
Amani had no breath with which to speak. All she could do was nod and look up at him, wishing she could hug him, dreaming that he loved her.
Then again, he was her husband, and he'd once told her she had the right to be personal with him. What could it hurt?
Standing from the throne, Amani placed her hands on his chest. She bit her lip, unsure of her actions, but continued regardless. Ziyad's hands had slipped from her hair to her hips, allowing her touch.
Circling his neck with her hands, she stood on her toes and pulled him close. She didn't speak—she didn't want to ruin the moment. It seemed so fragile, holding him tight, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.
Once she slid her hand into his hair at the base of his neck, Ziyad responded to her gesture and hugged her back. Amani breathed deep, taking in the unique scent of him. He smelled like the rahala bloom, which she'd heard from her mother grew everywhere at the Spider's oasis. Many women and men alike vied for his flowers, as their scent was very rare indeed.
The longer she held him, the harder it was to contain her emotions. She knew she was trembling, but there was no hope for it now. He had to have
felt her ragged breathing and known by her sniffles she desperately wanted to break down and sob.
She needed to pull away. For her own sanity, she had to. But Amani stayed put, not willing to leave the shelter of his arms. It was sweet torture.
She managed to lift her head, but her cheek rubbed his as she pulled away, and his face hovered near hers. She couldn't help but gaze into his dark eyes, silently pleading for him to let go—to throw caution to the wind and give her his heart. She'd protect it. She'd cherish it. She'd never throw it away.
Ziyad closed his eyes, as if he could no longer bear to look at her. Yet he didn't release her. He hadn't spoken a word, but she felt his rejection clear to her toes. She had to get away.
A long, low note hit the air outside his carav. Ziyad's eyes snapped open just as the caravan came to a halt. They'd reached his oasis.
The instant his arms loosened, Amani pushed her way out of them. Before he could stop her, she dashed across the room and ripped open the door. With tears in her eyes, she shot across the sand, uncaring for where she was going. She vaguely heard her husband calling her name behind her, but she didn't stop, not even when she came to the water's edge.
Eight
Crashing through various grasses, bushes and trees, Amani finally stopped on the other side of Ziyad's oasis. Her tears fell in torrents, and she collapsed in a heap, unable to keep her soul from flying apart.
Her mother had been right. Huge white rahala blooms grew everywhere. Their scent filled the sky, surrounding her, filling her head with images of Ziyad's face. He'd asked if she was going mad. She was beginning to think she was. How much more could she take, being rejected by her husband again and again?
She had to harden her heart. That was the only way she could survive. She had to.
Amani vaguely heard an uproar near the caravs. She knew she'd caused it. Everyone had seen her running this way. Ziyad himself probably wasn't too far behind. She'd be punished, she knew. Making him worry about her wasn't tolerated.
But she couldn't go back. Not yet.
Wiping her eyes, Amani stood and walked further along the water's edge. It was gorgeous here, with birds cawing in the trees and the lap of the cool water against the sand. The Spider's oasis was bigger than she thought it would be, an oval situated in the desert. The water was as smooth as glass and the air was cooler. Fresher.
After a few more minutes of walking, she came across a mound of dirt with a golden spider laid across the middle. Rocks ringed the mound, and many dead and withered rahala blooms lay about its base. There was only one thing this mound could possibly be.
Karis's grave.
On the spider's abdomen were etched four words. 'Karis Bihar, Spider Princess.'
Amani covered her mouth and stood there for what seemed an eternity.
"Karis," she whispered. "Gods, I wish you were alive. Ziyad needs you. He hurts so much. He tries not to show it, but I can see his pain. He doesn't want me. I thought he might, but he doesn't. Now, I get to bear him the son you never could. But I'm not sure I'll survive this.
"You were so perfect, Karis. You were everything I can never be."
The sound of rustling came from behind her. Amani turned to see Ziyad emerging from the trees. His eyes were wide and his breath came in deep pants. He seemed wary, as if she might flee him again.
Amani took a deep breath. "The spider you placed on her grave is exquisite."
He glanced down to Karis's grave, then back to her. "What are you doing here?"
She turned toward the mound. "Paying my respects." Good. Her voice didn't waver.
After a short silence, Ziyad said, "The sun hits this glade the first thing in the morning. She loved mornings."
Amani nodded. "She'd have liked that."
"She hated spiders," he said, a little closer this time.
Amani smiled. "I know. I used to tease her about it when you accepted her. I made it known that I had no problem with spiders."
He chuckled, but his mirth soon faded away. "Why did you run from me, Amani?"
She hesitated before answering him. "Because I finally understood the terms of our marriage. I needed to clear my head."
"You didn't understand them before?"
With a sigh, Amani plucked a nearby rahala bloom and placed it on Karis's grave. "I was in denial, I believe. Caught up in my first bout of passion, I was bound to be infatuated with you, Spider. But you belong with her."
Ziyad gazed at the ground with his hands balled into fists.
Amani walked up to him and placed her palm on his shoulder. "I loved Karis, too," she whispered before wandering back into the trees.
~ * ~
Ziyad stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. He'd heard every word Amani had spoken before she knew he was there. She'd wished Karis could ease his pain. Amani believed she'd never be as good as his first wife.
Gods, is that what he'd done to the caring young girl he'd taken from Suridesh? Had he squashed her selfconfidence? Taken away her self-worth?
The Falcon had warned something like this might happen. Khalil had said that Ziyad's despair was so dark and desperate, he'd do nothing more than pull Amani down with him and extinguish what made her unique—her caring spirit.
But what Amani didn't know was that every time he was around her, Ziyad felt more alive than he had these past two years. She brought sunshine into his dark corners and chased away his demons. He wanted to cling to her, but the memory of Karis weighed him down. How could he want to fly with Amani when he'd been so in love with Karis?
"Tell me what to do," he said aloud. If Karis was with the god of Spiders, then perhaps she could hear him. The sun had finally set beyond the dunes, painting the sky a lovely shade of golden orange. Amani had left him, claiming he belonged here. But there was nothing in this glade but cold, dark silence. He wanted warmth. He wanted light.
Gods above, he wanted Amani.
"I do not wish to defile your memory," he said brokenly. But he remembered Amani's gentle acceptance. She'd never expected him to put his love for Karis aside. All she wanted…was to be wanted.
Ziyad didn't know if his intuition was from his god, from Karis, or just from his gut. But he knew he had to tell Amani what was on his heart or he'd risk her spiraling into her own despair.
After laying another rahala bloom on the mound, Ziyad turned back for his caravan. Karis was his past, but Amani was his future. Tonight, she would stay in his carav. They were married—it was about time they started acting like it.
Nine
Ziyad's people were happy as they set up camp near his oasis. Children chased each other, falling over themselves to run and play, contradicting the sorrow in Amani's heart. She tried not to show her anguish, and smiled whenever someone looked at her. But even in the midst of the Spider's caravan, she felt so alone.
The sky grew dark and a few stars winked at her. She sat on a small stone by the water's edge and gazed up at them. There was the Spider's constellation, almost directly over Ziyad's oasis. Amani wondered what her sisters were up to, and what life was like back in Suridesh. Probably the same boring monotony.
Right about now, she'd welcome that monotony.
"The stars are bright tonight."
Ziyad's voice didn't startle her this time. Nor did she look at him. She continued to gaze up toward the heavens.
"Do you think heaven is among the stars?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said.
"I hope so," she replied. "I would love to look down upon Jikkar and shine my light when I am gone."
By the rustling of his robes, she knew Ziyad looked up as well.
"The moons won't rise for awhile yet," she told him. "There is your constellation."
"Yes," he said. "I see it."
"I used to stare at the spider in the sky and wonder what you were doing. In the two years after you accepted me for your wife, I wanted to know what kept you from marrying me."
He stepped closer. She could see him out of
the corner of her eye. But she kept her eyes on the stars.
"I cried myself to sleep by Karis's grave more than a few times," he confessed. "I combed the desert looking for her killers. I was ready to send those bastards into the flames of Kaldaeron. But I never found them, never learned who they were. They're still out there somewhere and I can't abide by that."
"What will you do if you find them?" Amani already knew the answer.
The Spider Prince Page 5