The Kingdom of Copper (The Daevabad Trilogy #2) - S. A. Chakraborty Page 0,73

to her feet to check his pulse. It was fast, but it was there. He’d only passed out. She quickly smothered the flames around his wrists.

Enraged, she whirled on Muntadhir. “What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped. “I was making progress!”

Muntadhir looked aghast. “Progress? He was on fire!”

“He’s a djinn! He can handle a little fire!”

“He’s not even supposed to be here!” Muntadhir argued back. “Did you convince him to try this again?”

“Did I convince him?” Nahri seethed, fighting to control the emotions rising in her. “No, you fool. He’s doing this for you. If you weren’t so selfish, you’d see that!”

Muntadhir’s eyes flashed. His usual grace had deserted him, his movements jerky as he pulled the shawl over Jamshid. “Then you shouldn’t have let him. You’re being reckless, so eager to prove yourself that—”

“I was not being reckless.” It was one thing to fight with Muntadhir about politics and family; she would not have him throwing her doubts about her healing abilities in her face. “I knew what I was doing, and he was prepared. You’re the one who interrupted.”

“You were hurting him!”

“I was healing him!” Her temper broke. “Maybe if you’d shown this concern when your father was willing to let him die, he’d be in better shape!”

The words ripped from her, an accusation that for all their many fights, Nahri had never intended to let slip. She knew too well the fear Ghassan used to keep his people in line, the terror that clawed up in her own throat when she thought of his wrath.

And she knew damn well how Muntadhir felt about Jamshid.

Her husband jerked back like she’d slapped him. Shocked hurt—and a good deal of guilt—flashed across his face, spots of angry color rising in his cheeks.

Nahri instantly regretted her words. “Muntadhir, I only meant—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off as he pointed a shaking finger at Jamshid. “The only reason he’s hurt is because of Darayavahoush. Because of you. Because a lost little girl from Cairo thought she was living in some sort of fairy tale. And because for all her supposed cleverness, she couldn’t see that the dashing hero who saved her was actually its monster. Or maybe she just didn’t care.” His voice grew colder. “Maybe all he had to do was tell one of his sad stories and bat his pretty green eyes, and you were all too happy to do whatever he wanted.”

Nahri stared at him, speechless, the words reverberating in her head. She’d seen Muntadhir drunk before, but Nahri had not known he could be so cruel.

She had not known he could cut her so deep.

She inhaled, shaking with hurt betrayal. This was why she had walls up, why she tried to hide away her heart. Because it was clear she couldn’t trust a damn soul in this city. Her blood boiled. And who was Muntadhir to say such things to her? Her? The Banu Nahida in her own infirmary?

The palace seemed to agree, her ancestors’ magic swirling in her blood. The flames in her firepit soared, licking out like they might seize him, this newest incarnation of the sand flies who’d stolen their home.

Then Nahri’s rage felt different. Purposeful. She could sense Muntadhir as though she were laying hands upon him. The rapid beat of his heart and the flush in his skin. The very delicate vessels in his throat. The bones and joints that could be commanded to break.

“I think you should leave, Emir.” It was Nisreen, standing at the edge of the curtain. When she’d gotten there, Nahri didn’t know, but the older Daeva woman had obviously heard enough to be gazing at Muntadhir with barely concealed contempt. “The Banu Nahida is in the middle of treating your companion, and it is better for him that they not be disturbed.”

Muntadhir’s mouth clamped into a stubborn line. He looked like he had more to say … and he was clearly unaware of how close Nahri had come to doing something she might not have been able to take back. But after another moment, he touched Jamshid’s hand, briefly sliding his fingers through the other man’s. Then, without looking at Nahri or Nisreen, he pushed to his feet, turned, and left.

Nahri exhaled, her entire body shivering as the dark urge left her. “I think … I think I could have just killed him.”

“He would have deserved it.” Nisreen crossed to check on Jamshid, and after another moment, Nahri joined her. His pulse was a little rapid