The king said only: “You thought the girl a spy.”
“Yes.”
“It is the single true thing you have spoken.”
Instantly, Kamran was disarmed. He stared at the king then, bewildered.
“I may now understand your motivations,” said his grandfather, “but I am yet to comprehend your lack of discretion. You thought it wise to pursue such a suspicion in the middle of the street? You thought the girl a spy, so you say—and what of the boy? Did you think him a saint? That you carried him through the square, allowing him to bleed all over your body?”
For the second time, Kamran experienced an unnerving heat inflame his skin. Again, he lowered his eyes. “No, Your Majesty. There, I had not been thinking clearly.”
“Kamran, you are to be king,” said his grandfather, who sounded suddenly close to anger. “You have no choice but to think clearly. The people may discuss all manner of gossip pertaining to their sovereign, but the soundness of his mind should never be a topic of discussion.”
Kamran kept his head bowed, his eyes trained on the intricate, repeating patterns of the rug underfoot. “Do we need worry what anyone thinks of my mind? Surely there’s no need to concern ourselves with such matters at this juncture. You are strong and healthy, Grandfather. You will rule Ardunia for many years yet—”
Zaal laughed out loud, and Kamran looked up. “Oh, your sincerity does move me. Truly. But my sojourn here is coming to an end,” he said, his eyes searching for the window. “I have felt it for some time now.”
“Grandfather—”
King Zaal held up a hand. “I will not be distracted from our present discussion. Neither will I insult your intelligence by reminding you how profoundly your every action affects the empire. A simple announcement of your return home would’ve been enough to stir up all manner of theater and excitement, but your actions today—”
“Indeed,” said his mother, interjecting herself, reminding everyone she was still there. “Kamran, you should be ashamed of yourself. Acting the part of a commoner.”
“Ashamed?” Zaal looked at his daughter-in-law in surprise. To Kamran, he said, “Is that why you think I’ve summoned you?”
Kamran hesitated.
“I expected you might be angry with me, yes, Your Majesty. I was also told you might expect me to host a ball now that I’ve inadvertently announced my return.”
Zaal sighed, his white brows knitting together. “Hazan told you that, I imagine?” The king’s frown grew deeper. “A ball. Yes, a ball. Though that is the least of it.”
Kamran tensed. “Your Highness?”
“Oh, my child.” Zaal shook his head. “I see only now that you do not realize what you’ve done.”
Firuzeh looked from her son to the king and back again. “What has he done?”
“It was not your mere interference that caused such talk today,” Zaal said softly. He was staring out the window again. “Had you left the boy to die in his own blood, it would’ve been little remarked upon. These things occasionally happen. You could’ve quietly summoned the magistrates, and the boy would’ve been carted away. Instead, you held him in your arms. You let the blood of a street orphan touch your skin, sully your clothes. You showed care and compassion for one of their own.”
“And am I to be punished, Your Majesty? Am I to be cut down for a display of mercy?” Kamran said, even as he felt the ascent of an unsettling apprehension. “I thought it expected of a prince to be in service of his people.”
His grandfather almost smiled. “Do you mean to purposely misunderstand me? Your life is too valuable, Kamran. You, heir to the largest empire on earth, recklessly exposed yourself to danger. Your performance today might go unquestioned by the people, but it will be severely scrutinized by the nobles, who will wonder whether you’ve gone mad.”
“Gone mad?” the prince said, struggling now to control his anger. “Is that not a gross overreaction? When there were no repercussions— When I did nothing but assist a dying boy—”
“You did nothing but cause a riot. They are only chanting your name in the streets.”
Firuzeh gasped and ran to the window, as if she might see or hear anything from within the palace walls, which were notoriously impenetrable. The prince, who knew better than to hope for a glimpse of a mob, sank back down.
He was stunned.
Zaal sat forward in his seat. “I know in your heart you would fight to the death for your empire, child, but this is not at all the same kind of sacrifice. A crown prince does not risk his life in the town square for a thieving street urchin. It is not done.”