But as intoxicated as she was by his words and his nearness, Soraya remembered herself and drew back from him, her hair spilling out of his hand. “Now you understand why you should keep away from me,” she said, but she wasn’t remotely convincing to herself, let alone to him.
She needed to put distance between them, so she turned and cut a path through the rest of the orchard, not looking behind to see if he would follow.
She hoped so much that he would follow.
“I’m not afraid to be near you,” he called. “I’m only afraid that you don’t want me to be.” From behind, she heard his hurried footsteps catching up to her.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said without stopping. “This is the last time you’ll ever see me. I’m kept hidden away, remember? I shouldn’t even have left my room today.” She didn’t voice her other thought, the one that was accompanied by what she had seen in the pavilion: You’ll leave me behind in the end, for one reason or another.
The orchard curved around to the side of the palace, and so when she emerged from its trees, she saw the walls of the golestan up ahead. She would keep walking until she was safely inside those walls, and she wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone.
“Then why did you?” he said. His voice was directly behind her now. He could have easily overtaken her, but he still remained a step behind, and Soraya couldn’t help believing that it was out of respect, not fear.
“That’s none of your con—” Her own thoughts interrupted her, and she halted abruptly. From behind, she heard Azad inhale sharply. When she spun to face him, he was too close to her, and so both of them took a hasty step backward. She looked him up and down, taking in the red soldier’s uniform, remembering what Laleh had told her about how he had earned it. That’s none of your concern, she had begun to say, except that it was, in a way—he was the reason there was a div in the dungeon at all, and so he was the reason she had left her room today.
“Do you have access to the palace dungeon?” she asked him.
Her unexpected question made him frown. “I don’t know. The rules of the azatan are still new to me.”
Soraya tugged at her gloves as she thought. Even if he could access the dungeon, he might not be able to see the div. And even if he did—even if she sent him on her behalf—she would still feel cheated that she could not speak to the div herself. She shook her head. “No, it won’t work,” she murmured to herself.
She began to turn away from him again. “Are you thinking about the div?” he said. And now it was her turn to be surprised. When she looked at him again, she noticed a sly gleam in his eyes, as if he had known all along what she had wanted. “Do you think the div knows how to lift your curse?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t be at peace until I ask. I’ve already tried to enter the dungeon, but Ramin wouldn’t let me pass. And I can’t use the passageways.”
“Passageways?”
It had been so long since she had spoken to anyone new that she had said it without thinking. “There are secret passages all throughout Golvahar. I use them to move through the palace without encountering anyone.” She felt strangely embarrassed to explain herself—she didn’t want him to think of her scurrying inside the walls like she was some kind of rodent. Have you spent so much time among the rats in the walls that you’ve forgotten how to sleep at night? “But the passage to the dungeon is blocked off,” she continued.
He looked up at the palace, eyes narrowing in contemplation. “How is it blocked off?”
“A locked door,” she said.
“Maybe we can break it down.”
When he looked at her again, she felt a conspiratorial thrill pass between them. Her eyes swept down his arms, remembering the force of the blow he had landed on Ramin.
Soraya still hesitated, though. She had never brought anyone with her into the passageways. Even with torchlight, they were dark and narrow—close contact would be difficult to avoid. If her mother knew what they were planning, she would certainly disapprove. But then, she didn’t want Soraya to speak to the div at all, and Soraya already knew that would be an impossible command to obey.
Music and cheerful voices carried from the garden in the front of the palace, filling the heavy silence between them. Soraya thought again of seeing her mother with Sorush and Laleh, of their uncomplicated happiness. Don’t I deserve to be happy too? Didn’t she deserve to take whatever chance of happiness was offered to her?
“Follow me,” she said to Azad, and she didn’t need to look behind her to know that he would obey.
She led him down a hedged walkway toward the front end of the palace—away from the dungeon. A large set of stairs jutted out from the palace wall, their sides carved and painted in bright colors depicting a line of feathers pointing upward, a testament to the simorgh’s gift. Soraya bypassed the stairs themselves and walked to the green feather that was closest to the wall. The paint was dark enough that you wouldn’t see the thin groove that went all the way down the feather, but Soraya knew it was there, and so she dug her fingers into that nearly invisible space and pulled to the right. The panel in the rock slid open, and she slipped inside, gesturing for Azad to follow.
It was strange to hear someone else breathing in these narrow tunnels, and to know she wasn’t alone. She’d grown so used to these passages that she didn’t need light to know where she was going, and so she hadn’t realized how dark they were until she slid the panel shut again. In the thin beam of light that seeped in through the wall, Soraya examined her gloves to make sure there were no holes or tears before she tentatively held her hand out to Azad. She had planned to tell him he didn’t have to take it if he didn’t want to, but before she could even speak, he had taken hold of her hand.
She led him through the passageways, past stairways and doors that would open into different rooms in the palace, turning corners by instinct. When they reached the set of stairs that would take them down beneath Golvahar, she remembered to warn him to watch his step. Once they had descended, she let go of Azad’s hand to find an unlit torch in its sconce, along with a piece of flint that she knew would be in a crack in the wall. She hadn’t needed the torches in a long time, but she was grateful for them now as the fire illuminated their surroundings.
They were in a rounded chamber at the hidden heart of Golvahar, with three pathways leading onward—one straight ahead, one to the left, and one to the right, which was blocked by a door. Azad stood in the center of the chamber and looked around at the stone walls that encased them. Soraya flattened herself against the wall and tried not to look at the arch of his neck, the flicker of light and shadow caressing his throat.
“These tunnels run all through the palace?”
Her head snapped up to meet his waiting gaze. “Everywhere except for the newer wing on the other side. I’ve read that there used to be tunnels underneath the entire city, too—a way to smuggle in supplies in case of siege during the early Hellean wars—but they haven’t been used in so long that I’m not sure they still exist.”
“Who built the passageways in the palace?”