worth the risk.”
The sincerity in the statement undid some of Nahri’s anger. Hatset had always been harder to hate than Ghassan—Nahri could relate too well to a woman for whom politics and family had left limited options.
They entered the castle’s courtyard. It was half garden, half ruin, and utterly beautiful. Mirrored stepping stones lined the sandy path, reflecting the full moon with silvery pools of light. A rushing stream divided the courtyard, pale trees stretching to climb through the latticed ceiling.
“This is incredible,” Nahri said admiringly. “I feel like I’m walking through the forest.”
“You should see it when the magic works.” Hatset trailed her fingers along a fern. “My father always says this is how djinn should live. On the edge and among the wilderness, closer in spirit to our ancestors than in ‘messy human cities.’ He never did think much of Daevabad.” Longing filled her voice. “I had a far gentler childhood than my own children, and I could never help but wonder how they might have blossomed here. How at ease Zaynab might be if she wasn’t confined to a harem full of politicking noblewomen. The kind of scholar Ali could grow into if he’d never had to pick up a zulfiqar.”
“They wouldn’t be themselves,” Nahri replied, almost without thinking. She couldn’t imagine Ali and Zaynab divorced of their royal identity.
“Perhaps not,” Hatset mused.
“Was it your choice to leave?” Nahri asked. Hatset seemed like she was in a talkative mood, and Nahri was never one to turn away information—but she was also genuinely curious.
The queen shrugged. “I’m not sure people like you and I have true choices. Ghassan was looking for a new wife and made clear he’d be open to a spouse from Ta Ntry. The merchant families convened, and I was at the top of the list. It sounded like an adventure, a chance to support my tribe. He was a handsome, clever king, and deeply charismatic. I arrived wary, only to find he’d had my entire wing enchanted to look like a Ntaran castle.”
Nahri glanced at her, surprised by the sorrow in the older woman’s expression. “You loved him.”
“I think we loved each other as much as we could. His loyalty was to Daevabad first and mine to Ta Ntry. Then when our children were born, I had no idea how fiercely I’d love them and how desperate I’d be to protect them from political fates that now seem unbearable.” She shook her head. “And I could not forgive him for banishing Ali. I think I could have excused Ghassan a great many awful things, but sending our son to die—he stomped out himself the part of my heart he’d once claimed.”
Nahri flinched. She knew how that felt.
Hatset was studying her. “Here, now I have spilled the details of my marriage, so you must do the same. I know you did not love Muntadhir, but do you think you could have one day ruled at his side?”
Nahri considered the question. A few weeks ago, she would have ducked it—this wasn’t the first time Hatset had tried to pry into her marriage. Muntadhir and Ali had been rivals, and Muntadhir’s alliance with the Daevas through his Nahid wife had been one of his strongest hands.
But that had all crashed down, and she found herself answering with more honesty than she usually did. “I don’t know. I was willing to sacrifice a lot for my people, but I don’t think I could have stood at Muntadhir’s side if he’d turned into his father. And if he’d managed to change and stand up to his father, I think one of the first things he would have done was divorce me. We were terribly matched.”
Hatset offered a grim smile. “A diplomatic statement. Prickliness aside, I do respect you, Banu Nahida. You have an admirable pragmatism, a willingness to hold contrary ideas in your head. I expected Manizheh’s daughter to be clever—but your wisdom, that I did not prepare for.”
“I am glad to be a surprise,” Nahri said drily. “Did you know her? My mother, I mean.”
“Not well, though I’m not sure anyone save her brother knew her well. Ghassan and I were only married a few years when she vanished, and I avoided her at court.”
“Because of Ghassan?”
“No, not because of my husband’s infatuation.” Hatset turned to look Nahri in the face. “Because she scared me, Banu Nahri, and I am not a woman who frightens easily. I still remember Ghassan bringing me to the infirmary to meet ‘his