all I could, and I always wished I could do more.”
Jahandar’s heart caught in his throat. It was true. Reza had brought his own personal physician to Jahandar’s wife’s sickbed, though his efforts had been for naught. And Reza had cared for Shahrzad and Irsa in the days following, when Jahandar had been . . . unable to do so.
“I know, old friend,” Jahandar whispered. “I will never forget what you did.”
Reza’s smile was sad and small. “Alas, such trying times can never be forgotten. But I’d rather we recall what friends are capable of in our times of need.” He paused for emphasis. “Just as I know what you are capable of, even if there are only a handful of people who are aware of it.”
This, too, was true. Reza had always known that Jahandar possessed unique abilities.
Reza steepled both hands beneath his chin, letting his gaze fall upon Jahandar’s smooth scalp. “Old friend, did you do something the night of the storm?”
Could he confide in Reza bin-Latief? Could he trust him with his secret?
“If you did,” Reza pressed in a low voice, “please know I will not judge you. In fact, I will celebrate you. For I know you did not mean to do anything wrong. And, if you did do something, it must have been a remarkable feat.”
Jahandar swallowed.
“One we would have a tremendous use for,” Reza finished.
Use? Reza had a use for Jahandar?
“If you accomplished such an astounding feat alone,” Reza said quietly, his brown eyes bright in their fervor, “can you imagine what you could accomplish with a force of soldiers at your back? With the strength of an army at your beck and call?”
Jahandar’s gaze flitted across Reza bin-Latief’s face. Across the lines drawn by deep thought. And obvious calculation.
He saw it. He knew what Reza was doing.
Knew it . . . and did not care.
Jahandar realized that for the first time in many years—for the first time since Mina had died and he had lost his position in the palace—Reza truly saw him. Saw the man he’d first met those many years ago. A vizier to the Caliph of Khorasan.
A man of power and influence.
A man worthy of Reza’s consideration.
In low tones, Jahandar began talking. And did not stop.
Not until Reza bin-Latief smiled with satisfaction.
Just like old times.
THE WINGED SERPENT
SHAHRZAD HAD NOT INTENDED TO TORMENT KHALID with the magic carpet.
Not at first.
But he brought it on himself. Truly, he did.
The moment the Caliph of Khorasan said—with coolly regal arrogance—that only a child would be afraid to fly, Shahrzad knew it was a challenge she was meant to take on.
Meant to see fall to glorious pieces.
After all, even she had been afraid at first. But Khalid need not know that.
As soon as he settled onto the carpet, Shahrzad coaxed it into the air without a word of warning.
A volley of expletives flew from Khalid’s mouth. They only became more foul as Shahrzad urged the carpet high above the city, in a twist of whistling wind. Laughing into the darkness, she spurred the magic carpet even faster, then rose to her knees. When Khalid tried to tug her back down—his eyes flashing—she sent a look of mocking scorn over one shoulder.
“Get down,” Khalid yelled over the wind, taking tight hold of her waist.
“Don’t be a bore!”
“You’ll fall.”
“No, I won’t.” She spread her arms wide.
“How do you know that?”
“I just do!”
“Get down,” he insisted, his jaw rigid. “Please!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re killing me, by degrees!”
Grumbling, Shahrzad eased back onto the carpet. Khalid pulled her into his chest, his breath fast against her neck.
A small part of her felt guilty.
The rest felt smug.
Serves him right. Perhaps the King of Kings won’t be so arrogant next time.
She grinned to herself. Khalid ceasing to be arrogant was just as unlikely as her ceasing to provoke him. It was simply too easy. And much too much fun.
“Are you finally starting to breathe in a normal fashion?” Shahrzad teased. “I must confess I find your behavior rather odd, considering you said only a child would be afraid to fly.”
“I wasn’t afraid.” Khalid wrapped a forearm of corded muscle around her.
She slanted a disbelieving look his way. “You just lied to me.”
“I wasn’t afraid,” he repeated. “I was terrified.”
When she laughed, Shahrzad was rewarded with one of his uncommonly effortless smiles. The kind that changed a face of shadows into one of light.
The kind that made her want to forget how small the magic carpet happened to be.
“You’re beautiful,” Shahrzad commented softly.
Khalid’s hand tightened