lined with other divs. She had expected him to take her back to the new wing, but instead, he went all the way down the hall to the entrance of the throne room.
The throne room was exactly as she had last seen it on Nog Roz—except that a different occupant lounged on the throne, his posture relaxed and arrogant. The beaked div brought her to the center of the room, where Sorush was standing rigidly on the image of the simorgh.
A ring of divs circled the room, and Soraya cursed silently as her eyes went to the door hidden in the right wall. One of the divs was positioned directly against it, blocking any escape. The Shahmar knows about the door, Soraya thought at once, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? She had never shown it to him, or even told him about it.
Following her gaze, the Shahmar said, “You’re looking for the door, aren’t you?” His voice rumbled with amusement. “I should have known better than to try to keep you prisoner here. You know these walls even better than I do. And I know them quite well myself—I built those passages that have hidden you away from me for so long, and so I knew which one you would likely take to escape. Don’t you find that poetic?”
A paranoid shah, Soraya remembered. Paranoid but clever, Azad had insisted. She was beginning to think there was no way to detangle her life from his, or his fate from hers.
The Shahmar continued: “I would have retrieved you soon anyway. I want you to be here when I kill your brother.”
Her stomach lurched, and she tried to find Sorush’s eye, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. Instead, she faced the Shahmar and said, “Why kill him? Isn’t it enough that he’s your prisoner?”
It was a weak argument, and they both knew it. The Shahmar shook his head. “I won’t make the same mistake I did last time, Soraya. As long as he lives, people will have hope that he can rise against me, and I won’t be overthrown by your family again.” He rose from the throne and descended from the dais. At once, Soraya stepped in front of her oddly passive brother.
“I won’t stand and watch,” she said to the Shahmar as he stepped closer and closer. “I won’t let you—”
“Soraya, stop.” Sorush’s voice rang clear, his hand firm on her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”
She spun to face him in astonishment. His face was blank and unfeeling, but somehow his calm demeanor only made her feel more frantic, more desperate. “How can you say that?” she said to him. “That is your throne. Those are your people!”
He gave a slight shake of the head. “Not anymore. You saw to that.”
The chill in his voice made Soraya shiver. “Sorush, I’m sorry,” she said to him, her throat dry. “I never thought this would happen. When I put out the fire, I didn’t know—”
“And I didn’t know you hated me this much. I didn’t know you were capable of this.”
Soraya’s hands clenched at her sides, and before she could stop herself, she snapped, “Of course you didn’t know. How would you know anything I feel, or what I’m capable of, when you’ve barely spoken to me since childhood? After you became shah, you left me behind.”
This was wrong—she wasn’t supposed to be angry with him, not now, not after what she had done. But her old wounds hadn’t disappeared just because she had struck him a new one, and Sorush’s coldness toward her only reminded her of what had driven her to the fire temple in the first place.
Sorush’s eyes flickered, but only briefly. “You’re right,” he said. “I left you behind, and I worried about you often—but I had to worry about everyone else in this country as well. And now you’ve had your revenge on all of us—a very thorough one.”
The Shahmar’s scaled hand came down on her shoulder before she could respond. “As much as I enjoy seeing you like this, I think we’re finished here.”
He gestured to one of the divs, who came forward to lead Sorush away.
Soraya started to follow, but the Shahmar kept her in place. “Where are you taking him?” she asked hoarsely.
“I’ve changed my mind about the execution,” the Shahmar said, circling around to stand in front of her and block her view of Sorush’s retreating back.
“Why?”
“Perhaps your tender plea has moved me.” His hand encircled her wrist, and he pulled her alongside