The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,143

prefers Queen Hatset’s endless purse and a fool she can manipulate into building her hospital.” He turned to look at Ali. “And after it’s completed, she’ll have no use for either.”

The cruel words landed, piercing something insecure and vulnerable deep in Ali’s heart. “She is worth ten of you,” he responded, hurt surging forward and crashing past his self control. “What she’s doing is brilliant and brave, and you couldn’t even pull yourself from your courtesans long enough to visit—”

The office door burst inward, slamming hard against the wall. Ali spun, unsheathing his zulfiqar as he moved between his family and the doorway. But it was only Wajed who appeared, looking stressed and alarmed.

“Abu Muntadhir,” he greeted Ghassan in Geziriyya. Somewhere behind him, Ali could hear a woman wailing, her cries echoing through the corridor. “Forgive me, there’s been a terrible crime.”

“My lady, please!” Ali stiffened at the sound of Kaveh’s voice. “You cannot go before the king like this!”

“Yes, I can!” a woman shouted. “It is my right as a citizen!” A string of Divasti followed, broken by sobbing.

Ghassan stood up as a Daeva woman in a blood-soaked chador came stumbling into sight. Kaveh was at her side, pale and tense, as were a handful of other Daevas and two members of the Royal Guard.

“What’s going on?” Ghassan demanded, switching to Djinnistani.

Kaveh stepped forward as the woman sank to her knees in front of them, crying into her hands. “Forgive my tribeswoman, my king,” he pleaded. “She lost her wits begging to come before you.”

“She is welcome to come before me,” Ghassan replied. Ali could hear true concern in his voice. “My dear woman, whatever has happened? Are you hurt? I can have the Banu Nahida summoned …”

The woman began to cry harder. “It is too late for that. My husband is already dead. They took him, they cut his throat.”

Wajed looked grim. “A few of my men found them. Her husband …” He shook his head. “It was bad.”

“Did you catch them?” Ali asked quickly.

Wajed paused. “No. It … we found them near the Geziri Quarter. They’d gone to shop for pearls and …”

“This didn’t happen in the Geziri Quarter,” Kaveh snapped. “I know where you found them, Qaid.”

Ghassan’s voice was intent. “Who attacked you, my lady?”

“Shafit,” she spat. “We wanted to see the Nahid hospital, but we didn’t get halfway through their workcamp before these filthy men were pulling at our clothes and dragging us into a back alley. They threatened … they threatened to dishonor me. Parvez begged them, told them he would give them everything we had …” She shook her head as if to dispel the image, and her veil briefly fell from her face.

Shocked recognition stole through Ali, and his gaze darted to the grand wazir. No. It wasn’t possible.

Muntadhir had crossed the office to pour a glass of water from the pitcher on the windowsill. He returned and pressed it into the woman’s hands with a few soft words of Divasti. She took a shaky breath, wiped her eyes, and then drank.

And with that second glimpse of her face, Ali was certain. He’d seen this woman twice before. Both had been rather memorable occasions. The first time had been at the Daeva tavern he’d visited with Anas, where she’d been laughing and gambling with a group of courtesans. The second time had been at his apartment; she’d been waiting in his bed after his first morning in court, sent to “welcome” him to the palace.

A “welcome” arranged by Kaveh e-Pramukh.

It was Kaveh who spoke next. “I tried to warn the Banu Nahida about that camp,” he said, his voice rising as he wrung his hands. “The dirt-bloods are dangerous. It is unnatural to work with them, and now they have killed a Daeva man in broad daylight. The whole place should be torn down.”

Ali cleared his throat, fighting for calm. “Were there any witnesses?”

Kaveh eyed him incredulously. “Is her word not enough?”

Not when you’re involved. But Ali didn’t say that; instead touching his heart and speaking truly, “I meant no offense toward your employee, Grand Wazir. But it could help us catch—”

“I am not his employee,” the woman declared. “What is that supposed to mean? I am a woman of noble blood! I belonged to none but my Parvez!”

Ali opened his mouth, but Ghassan held up a hand. “Were there witnesses? I do not doubt your account, my lady. But it would help us find the perpetrators.”

Wajed shook his head. “No witnesses,