his world? It didn’t sound like Hatset or Wajed had bothered to keep Jamshid in the loop. Was she supposed to just walk in and announce he was a Nahid and that his parents had been behind the invasion that murdered the man he loved?
She shivered. “No, not yet.” She didn’t imagine Ali would be helpful—Jamshid didn’t seem to like him—but she could use the support. She opened the door.
It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the gloomy light. Like the corridor, Jamshid’s cell had a small window, barred and no bigger than a man’s head. A single oil lamp burned in one corner, the eastern corner, her heart aching as she realized the cup of water and a half-burnt twig beside it were an attempt at a fire altar. A messy floor desk was piled with paper and books, half-stacked in toppled piles.
Jamshid himself was curled upon a sleeping pallet, facing the wall. He hadn’t stirred when they opened the door, and for a moment, Nahri panicked, fearing she was too late before she spotted the rise of his chest.
“Jamshid?” she called.
A single tremor raced down his body, and he rolled over.
Dazed black eyes locked on hers. “Nahri?” Jamshid sat up, swaying like he was drunk. Then he lurched forward. “Nahri!”
She rushed to catch him, pulling him into a hug. “Thought you could use some company.”
Jamshid clutched her tight. “Oh, thank the Creator. I was so worried about you.” He released her. “Are you okay? How did you get here? They said everyone in the palace was killed!”
“I’m okay,” she managed. Her brother, on the other hand, looked awful, his face thin and pale, his beard overgrown, and his black hair hanging in tangled waves. “Are you all right? Have they been mistreating you?”
Jamshid scowled. “They flap their mouths but haven’t laid hands on me. They’re too afraid of—” He abruptly stopped talking, his attention shifting behind her. “Alizayd?”
Ali awkwardly cleared his throat. “Hello.”
Wild optimism lit Jamshid’s gaze. “If you’re alive, does that mean … is Muntadhir here as well?” he asked frantically. “Did he make it out with you?”
Nahri’s heart dropped. “No. I’m sorry, Jamshid. Muntadhir … he didn’t make it out.”
She could see the hope literally vanish from her brother’s eyes. Jamshid swallowed loudly, looking like he was trying to pull on his courtier’s facade. “I see.” He turned back to Ali. “Then why are you here?”
Ali hadn’t moved from the doorway. “What?” he whispered.
“I asked why are you here, al Qahtani? Because protecting Muntadhir was your job, your entire life’s duty, and if you’re standing here, I can only assume you failed or betrayed him. So which is it?”
Ali rocked back on his heels, the accusation richoceting around the cell. Weeks of healing seemed to unwind from his face in the blink of an eye. “I didn’t betray him. I would never.”
“Then you’re a coward.”
“Jamshid.” Nahri stepped between them. “He’s not a coward. And it’s not his fault. Muntadhir chose to protect his family and his kingdom the best way he knew. It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, and I won’t hear anyone dishonor it.”
But her words didn’t seem to reach her brother. Jamshid was starting to shake, fresh grief ripping across his face. “He shouldn’t have had to make that choice. He wasn’t the one trained to.”
Ali stepped closer, looking like he was aching to make this right. “Jamshid, I’m sorry. I truly am. I know how close—”
“Oh, do you know how close?” Jamshid let out a hysterical laugh. “Because I distinctly remember having to hide how close we were because of men like you.”
Nahri tried to intervene again. “Jamshid—”
“No,” he cut in, his voice breaking. “I have spent my life shutting my mouth while the djinn crush my people. While they crush me, my father, my neighbors—you. Their lies and their politics have made a cage of my life, and now I want you to see who this man really is. This prince I tried to befriend only to have him turn around and order me to throw another man in the lake.” He glared at Ali. “I loved your brother, understand? He was the love of my life.”
Ali opened his mouth. He didn’t look angry—he looked astonished, as though still trying to connect the dots.
And then it fell into place.
“But that’s not possible,” Ali stammered. “Muntadhir wasn’t … I mean, there were so many women—”
Jamshid bellowed in outrage, lunging for a slipper on the floor and hurling