Girl, Serpent, Thorn - Melissa Bashardoust Page 0,112

they’ll receive me again. I don’t think they’ll ever…” Her voice broke, leaving the thought unfinished.

Soraya held Parvaneh’s hands tightly in her own. “They will,” she said. “The day after you were captured, Parisa came to me and asked where you were. She said you’re still their sister.”

Parvaneh soaked the words in like they were moonlight, her eyes wide with longing. She straightened and said, “How much time do we have?”

“He said the execution would happen before sunset today.”

Parvaneh nodded, but her expression was serious. “It’s not much time.”

“I know,” Soraya said. “But even if”—even if I have to kill my brother first—you’re not back in time, we can still put an end to this.”

“I’ll make it in time,” Parvaneh promised. She kissed Soraya’s cheek and whispered in her ear, “And then I’ll deliver that bastard to you on his knees.”

* * *

It had been tempting to slip into the passageways from the dungeon—to let Golvahar hide her away until she disappeared. But her family was still beyond reach in the new wing, and if Azad found her missing, she may as well have condemned them all to death.

After watching Parvaneh fly away as a dark gray moth, Soraya returned to her room. As she made her careful way back through the golestan, she noticed that the garden had further expanded since she had last seen it—the vines and roses were now climbing up the palace walls. But she didn’t have time to contemplate this; almost immediately after she returned, her door opened, and it continued to open and close several more times over the course of the day.

First there was breakfast, and afterward the leopard-spotted div brought a very frightened human seamstress carrying an ornately embroidered gown. Azad had planned ahead, apparently, ordering the seamstress to make a new gown for Soraya using the measurements from the clothes in Soraya’s wardrobe. Now the seamstress nervously asked Soraya to try it on so she could make any adjustments.

Soraya didn’t bother arguing. She didn’t want the seamstress to be punished for her own stubbornness. The gown fell over her skin in waves of green and gold—the same colors as the dress she’d worn on Nog Roz, when she’d first spoken to Azad. He was feeling sentimental, apparently. When she looked closely at the pattern of the brocade, she flinched, causing the seamstress to prick her with a needle by accident. The pattern that repeated on the gown was of a rose entwined with a snake.

When the fitting was over, more human attendants were brought to bathe and groom her—and only then did Soraya realize the point of the gown. He’s acting like this is a wedding. An execution and a wedding together—they would be married in her brother’s blood.

Again, Soraya didn’t protest while the attendants performed rituals that would ordinarily be performed in the bathhouse the day before a wedding ceremony. And as they scrubbed the dead skin off of her with a rough stone and shaped her eyebrows using threads, she realized with begrudging acceptance that she didn’t want to protest. Her mother and Laleh would have been used to these ministrations, but no one had ever braided Soraya’s hair or painted her face. Not even her mother had ever been able to do this for her.

Azad would have known that, of course. He was once again offering her something that her family had never been able to give her—a reminder that she should choose him over them. But there was one thing he hadn’t foreseen, one element that spoiled the relaxation of being pampered. Whenever she looked at her attendants, their eyes quickly dropped, but Soraya still saw the traces of fear and resentment in them. They were not here by choice, and they would not forget that fact, even if Soraya could. Did they recognize her? Did they think she had joined the Shahmar willingly? If so, then they must hate her. Their hands were gentle, but their eyes were as sharp as thorns.

Another meal, and then the seamstress returned with the gown. Once the gown was on, Soraya couldn’t stop herself from asking the spotted div, “Could you bring me a mirror? Just for a short time?”

The div considered this, then nodded. She guided the seamstress away and returned several minutes later carrying a full-length mirror.

Once the div set down the mirror, Soraya walked up to it, hands trembling in anticipation. This was the first time she would see herself since lifting her curse, the first time