“Did you tie him down? Blindfold him?”
“N-no.”
“Did he use magic a second time?”
The soldier shook his head. A tremor ran through him.
“I see.” The Nizahl Heir’s stare was cold. “Bury the body and meet me at your post.”
While they spoke, my instincts had sluggishly recovered. The Nizahl Heir wouldn’t be in Mahair over the death of a single soldier. He couldn’t know my true identity, either, unless the dead had learned to speak in the last few days. Marek said the Heir was spotted in Gahre, so Mahair wasn’t the first Omalian village on his route. He had seen me speaking Resar and performing the Jasadi death rites, but not using magic.
I could salvage this.
The soldier collected Adel’s body and staggered past the trees, leaving me alone with the Nizahl Heir.
When he turned to me again, I bowed my head. “I ask Your Highness’s leave to explain what you witnessed.”
The Heir tipped his head, causing a lock of silver hair to come loose from the tie at the nape of his neck. “You have it.”
“I am not a Jasadi.” I took a slow breath. Truth was perception. I couldn’t change my actions, but I could alter how he interpreted them. “I have no magic and no ties to the scorched kingdom. Though I have known Adel for years, the truth of his nature remained hidden to Mahair. To me. The savagery of his death… upset me. I only wanted to pay him a kindness by performing the death rites of his people.”
“Is it common to learn Jasadi death rites in your village?” He sounded curious. Conversational.
“No.” I pretended to hesitate. “I learned them in Ganub il Kul, before the war. My tutors placed a high premium on speaking the old languages and understanding the practices of every kingdom.”
A year or two before the siege, Nizahl had tried to foster a comradery between the kingdoms by creating a camp in the middle of Essam called Ganub il Kul. The camp would heal divisions between the kingdoms by unifying hundreds of their children in a shared education. No one in the royal families sent their children, of course. My grandparents had scoffed at the idea and discarded Supreme Rawain’s flowery invitation.
My favorite attendant, Soraya, had not been so dismissive. “Be wary of evil men’s kindnesses, Essiya. They always grow from poisonous roots.”
The second week of the war, every child still in Ganub il Kul was slaughtered. The murders were brutal, inhuman. And Supreme Rawain blamed it on Jasad. Any kingdom hesitant to point its sword at Jasad changed its tune quickly after Ganub il Kul.
“Your accent is perfect. Your tutors must have been proud.”
I studied the Heir. I could not puzzle out whether he believed me or was merely playing along. His features remained smooth and perfectly polite. I could have been describing the best scrubbing technique to remove a stain from cotton, for all he had reacted.
“Truthfully, I caused them great distress. As you can see, I rarely put my skills to good use.”
“Ah,” the Heir said, with a slight quirk of his lips. “Your first piece of honesty.”
I struggled to control my breathing. He didn’t believe me. Four Nizahl soldiers broke through the bracket of trees. Two were astride mounts, and the others pulled theirs along. They glanced at me, promptly disregarding my presence.
“Sire,” panted the first to arrive, bowing. “We’ve been searching for Your Highness.”
“You’ve found me,” he said. “Do you bring news?”
“No, my liege. It was as the blacksmith said. The boy has been released.”
Sire. Your Highness. My liege. How many more? Jasad had one or two honorifics for its royalty at most.
The Commander’s expression didn’t change. “Excellent. Hand me my reins, Jeru. We will accompany the lady to Mahair.”
I had succeeded in retreating several steps. The Commander’s announcement halted me in my tracks. “I can assure you that’s not necessary.”
The soldiers were irritated with my response. “Accept His Highness’s kindness, girl,” the brawny one snapped.
The curly-haired one—Jeru—handed the Heir the reins to a black horse. The Heir studied me with his unsettling eyes. I wanted to stab them out of his head.
Bowing stiffly, I pasted on a gracious smile. There was only one right answer. I wouldn’t be like Adel, reacting first and thinking second.
“Of course. Thank you, my liege. I humbly accept your offer.”
“Wonderful. Do you ride?”
I dug my empty fingers in my cloak. What was his angle?