even half as subversive as you think I am. I’d do a lot better in Daevabad.”
“But you have a chance to leave Daevabad.” She nudged his shoulder when he scowled. “So why do you look so upset? You get to have a life. A peaceful one, in a place you love.”
Ali was silent for several heartbeats, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Because this is my home, Nahri, and I …” He squeezed his eyes shut, like whatever he was about to say caused him pain. “I don’t think I can leave it while my father still rules.”
Nahri would swear the temperature in the room plummeted. She jerked back, instinctively glancing around, but they were alone. She was already shaking her head, the fear Ghassan had carved into her an instinctual response.
“Ali, you can’t talk like that,” she whispered. “Not here. Not ever.”
Ali looked back at her, beseeching. “Nahri, you know it’s true. He’s done terrible things. He’s going to keep doing terrible things. That’s the only way he knows—”
Nahri actually clapped her hand over his mouth. “Stop,” she hissed, her eyes darting around the room. They might be alone, but God only knew the form Ghassan’s spies took. “We’re already in his sights. I’m already in his sights. Was what he did at the shafit camp not enough to convince you to back down?”
He pushed her hand away. “No,” he said fervently. “It did the opposite. A good king wouldn’t have allowed that bloodshed. A good king would ensure justice for both the Daevas and the shafit, so that people didn’t resort to taking vengeance into their own hands.”
“Do you know how naive you sound?” Nahri said desperately. “People aren’t that virtuous. And you can’t fight him. He is capable of things you can’t imagine. He’ll destroy you.”
Ali’s eyes blazed. “Aren’t there some things worth that risk?”
All of Muntadhir’s warnings about his younger brother came flooding back to her. “No,” she said, her voice so cutting she barely recognized it. “Because a hundred others will pay the price for your risk.”
Bitterness creased his face. “Then how do we fight, Nahri? Because I know you want better for Daevabad. I heard you in the Temple, I watched you confront my father.” He gestured to the rest of the room. “Was not the whole point of building the hospital to move forward?”
“The hospital was meant to be a step,” she countered. “It was meant to provide a foundation to build some peace and security between the Daevas and shafit for the day your father doesn’t have his boot on our neck. We’re not there, Ali. Not yet.”
“And how many more people will die while we wait for that day?”
Their gazes locked. There was nothing but conviction in the warm gray of his eyes. No cunning, no deception.
It terrified her. Because whatever history was between them, Nahri did not think she had it in her to watch the kind man who’d built her this office, this quiet homage to the home she still loved—the man who’d taught her to read and helped her summon flames for the first time—be executed in the arena.
Nahri sat back down. “Ali, you say you owe me your life,” she started, fighting a tremble in her voice. “I’m going to collect on that debt. Go back to Am Gezira.”
He let out an exasperated sigh, turning away. “Nahri …”
She reached out, taking his chin in one hand and forcing him to look back at her. He visibly jumped at her touch, his eyes going wide.
“Take your father’s offer,” she said firmly. “You can help people in Am Gezira without getting killed. Marry some woman who will love to hear you ramble about canals, and have a whole band of children you’ll undoubtedly be too strict with.” She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his beard. She didn’t miss the sudden racing of his heart.
Nor the sadness rising in her own.
Ali seemed speechless, his eyes flickering nervously across her face. It would have to do. She stood up, dropping her hand as she stepped away, the sudden sting of tears in her eyes. “Go steal some happiness for yourself, my friend,” she said softly. “Trust me when I say the chance doesn’t always come back.”
“So you still haven’t told me where you were last night,” Lubayd said as they made their way to the arena. “Aqisa and I were looking for you at the celebration.”
“I didn’t go,” Ali replied. “I didn’t feel up to it.”
Lubayd halted in his tracks.