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This Woven Kingdom(This Woven Kingdom #1)(86)

Author:Tahereh Mafi

Alizeh took an unsteady step back.

Even as the nosta glowed warm against her skin, verifying his every word, she struggled to believe him.

“Forgive me,” he said, staring now into his hands. “I’ve been made privy to some details of your life in these last few days, and I—”

Gently, he cleared his throat.

“I think very highly of you,” he said. “You may not know much of me, but I’ve seen enough now to understand that you’ve been treated abominably by the world and its inhabitants, myself among them. I intend to spare you the worst of what comes next, insomuch as I am able.”

Alizeh stilled, blinking against a sudden blow of emotion. She had tried to raise a shield and failed: she was touched.

It had been a long time since anyone had noticed her or found her worthy of basic kindness. What had the prince seen of her life to inspire him so? She dearly wanted to know—wanted to ask—but her pride would not allow it.

She stared at him instead, at his bowed head.

Her eyes traveled over the thick, satin waves of his black hair, the broad shoulders beneath his intricately knit ivory sweater. He was tall and steady, so beautifully in possession of himself. She saw the prince in him then, the elegance of nobility, of honor; he seemed in that moment every grace personified.

“You say,” she said quietly, “that you think highly of me.”

“I do.”

The nosta warmed.

“And you mean to protect me now as a kind of penance?”

At that, the prince looked up. “In a way,” he said, and smiled. “Though I experience no suffering in the effort, so I suppose even in this I’ve managed to be selfish.”

Alizeh took a deep breath. She wanted to laugh; she wanted to cry. What a strange day this had turned out to be.

“If all that you say is true, sire, why can you not simply leave here? You need not search my room. You might return to the palace and tell His Majesty whatever you think will best accomplish your goal.”

“I never said I was sent by His Majesty.”

“Were you not?”

“I cannot answer that.”

She sighed, turning away as she said, “I see you are determined to be infuriating.”

“My apologies. Perhaps you should return to work.”

She spun back, all tender emotion forgotten. “You dare dismiss me from my own room? How do you manage to be so kind in one moment and so vexing in the next?”

He tilted his head at her. “You are the first to think me capable of such dichotomy. I am in fact not known to possess so changeable a character, and I’m forced to wonder whether the source of your frustration is rooted elsewhere.”

Alizeh’s eyes went wide at the affront. “You think the fault lies with me, then? You think me inconstant?”

“With all due respect, I would point out only that you welcomed my arrival with a promise to slit my throat and have since been moved to tears at least twice in my presence. I would hardly call that sort of behavior constant.”

She clenched her fists. “Do you not think I am allowed to experience a full spectrum of emotion when my nerves are so mercilessly attacked—when you lay at my feet all manner of shocking revelations?”

“What I think,” he said, fighting back a smile, “is that you will soon be missed by your despicable housekeeper. I ask that you return to your duties only for fear that any further delay will cost you. You need not worry about me.” He glanced around the room. “I, too, have a task to accomplish.”

Alizeh squeezed her eyes shut.

Oh, she wanted to shake him. There was no use trying to convince him of anything.

She moved away, bending with only a little difficulty to collect her disassembled carpet bag from the floor, and quickly pulled the threads taut, reshaping the small luggage. She was aware of the prince’s eyes on her as she worked, but did her best to ignore him.

Quickly, she removed her few items from their hooks—including Miss Huda’s unfinished gown—folding them on her bed before tucking them into the bag. She reached for the apple crate next—

“What are you doing?”

She was tipping over the crate, dumping its contents into the bag, when she felt his hand on her arm.

“Why are y—”

“You will not listen to me,” she said, pulling away. “I have asked you several times now to leave, and you will neither listen nor sufficiently explain yourself. As such, I have decided to ignore you.”

“Ignore me all you like, but why pack up your things? Have I not made it plain that I need to search them?”

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