She glanced over her shoulder at Qadir, who openly wore his contempt on his face.
Even the forest, for all its beauty, had an oppressive air to it. There was something about the trees, which had grown so close together they all but blocked out the moonlight. And then there was that damned sound the wind made as it passed through the leaves: an ominous rattling moan that always made her skin prickle. Loulie was relieved when they finally emerged and came to the diwan in the center of the courtyard. A set of stairs led up to a large wooden platform nestled between two flowered hedges, and balanced atop them was a wood ceiling with an opening in the center that offered a view of the stars.
More than once, Loulie had sat beneath it with only the wali for company, eyes closed as she leaned against his shoulder and told him of her relic-finding adventures. She had shared stories about the ghouls she’d faced with Qadir, of the cliffs she’d scaled and the oceans she’d crossed. Ahmed was a good listener and always enthusiastically asked for more details. Loulie hated that he was so easy to confide in. He was a damned hunter; he did not deserve her trust.
With a conscious effort, she pulled herself out of the memory and focused on the diwan. The room was filled to capacity with decadents reclining on cushions and exchanging gossip over luxurious foods and wine. Loulie sighed into her scarf as she entered. A rawi reciting poetry went mute, and the musician onstage stopped playing his oud. Loulie ignored the quiet and focused on the wali, who rose from a divan close to the stage.
Ahmed bin Walid was dressed in layers of vibrant red and orange. His handsome face was uncovered, revealing features that glowed under the lantern light. Stubble shadowed the bottom half of his face, sketching his quirked lips in stark relief, and he had outlined his brown eyes with kohl, which made them seem bigger, brighter.
He approached her with a dazzling smile. “Ah, our most important guests have arrived!” Loulie’s heart fluttered with nerves as he stepped toward her. He is just a man, she thought. He has no power over me.
Qadir set a steadying hand on her shoulder. “It is a pleasure to see you again, bin Walid.”
Ahmed clucked his tongue. “Ya Qadir, you treat me like a stranger! We are friends, no?” Ahmed clapped him on the back before turning to Loulie, a familiar question burning in his eyes. One she had left unanswered for months.
Let him wonder. He would not be receiving an answer tonight either.
“It’s good to see you again, sayyidi.”
“The pleasure is always mine, al-Nazari.” He never stopped smiling as he turned to his guests. “Why so serious, my guests? Be merry, for tonight we have the sultan’s very own Midnight Merchant with us!” Uproarious applause went up at the proclamation, and Loulie fought the urge to shrivel into herself.
The sultan’s Midnight Merchant? Were people really calling her that?
The room unfroze after the ovation. Conversations resumed in earnest, the rawi began another poem, and the oud player started a song. Ahmed led Loulie and Qadir to the area by the stage, where the high prince and Aisha sat cross-legged on cushions, snacking on rose lokum and looking out of place. But then, Loulie felt the same way. Though Ahmed had orchestrated various meetings between her and other businesspeople, he’d never invited her to a large celebration like this. He knew she despised them.
There were two free cushions—one beside Ahmed and another between Omar and Aisha. Qadir saved her from her indecisiveness by taking the one by Ahmed.
“I’d have thought someone who hated attention would avoid arriving late,” Omar said by way of greeting as she sat down.
“Some of us have other, more important things to do,” she snapped back.
Ahmed laughed as he waved a servant over. “The Midnight Merchant is a busy woman. I am lucky she visits me at all.”
Aisha raised a brow. “I had no idea you were so well acquainted with a criminal, sayyidi.”
“Criminal is such a base title! I find bold entrepreneur much more fitting.”
Loulie wondered if it even mattered whom the wali associated with. The sultan doubtless had his own illegal connections, her included. Why would he care about the wali of Dhyme’s?
The servant began to pour a sparkling wine into their cups. Knowing Ahmed, it was probably the most expensive alcohol on the market. As the city’s sultan-appointed guardian, he was one of the wealthiest people in Dhyme—and was the city’s most powerful government official. He had told Loulie once that flaunting his wealth in front of influential people was not just a privilege, but a necessity to maintaining power. Or so he claimed, anyway. Loulie was always skeptical when he broke out his opulent bottles of wine.