and his skin still hot, but his breathing was slowly returning to normal. “Do not ever let that foul drunk touch you again.”
Nahri felt like she was about to be sick. “He’s my husband, Nisreen. We’re supposed to be working to bring peace between the tribes.” Her voice was weak, the words almost laughable.
Nisreen pulled over the ice-filled bucket that had been left next to the pallet, dampening a cloth in the cool water and placing it on Jamshid’s back. “I would not overly worry about the future of your marriage,” she muttered darkly.
Nahri stared at Jamshid. A wave of despair swept her as she remembered his pleading. She felt so utterly useless. It was all too much: the crush of her responsibilities and her constantly deflected dreams. The deadly dance she was forced to do with Ghassan and the pleading eyes of the Daevas who prayed to her to save them. Nahri had tried, she had. She’d married Muntadhir. But she had nothing left to give.
“I want to go home,” she whispered, her eyes growing wet. It was a completely nonsensical desire to have, a pathetically childish urge, and yet her heart ached with a longing for Cairo so strong it stole her breath.
“Nahri …” Embarrassed, Nahri tried to turn away, but Nisreen reached for her face, cupping her cheeks. “Child, look at me. This is your home.” She pulled her into a hug, stroking the back of her head, and Nahri couldn’t help but sink into her embrace, the tears finally spilling from her eyes. It was a type of physical affection no one here gave her, and she took it gratefully.
So gratefully in fact that she didn’t question the fervor in Nisreen’s voice when she continued speaking. “I promise you, my lady. It is going to be all right. You will see.”
Ali smashed his zulfiqar into Wajed’s, spinning off the momentum to duck Aqisa’s blade as it passed over his head.
How did you expect Nahri to react? You gave her no warning and you arrived carrying Darayavahoush’s dagger. Did you think she’d invite you to talk about books over tea?
He brought his weapon up to block Wajed’s next strike.
I still can’t believe she thinks I wanted any of this. After all, Ali didn’t exactly ask to get kidnapped and shot by her precious Afshin. And he didn’t believe for a second that Nahri had gone these five years without learning about Qui-zi and Darayavahoush’s other innumerable crimes. How could she still defend him?
He pushed off the Qaid’s blade, whirling around to face Aqisa again, narrowly parrying her next blow.
Love—for it was apparent even to Ali, who was typically oblivious to such things, that there had been a bit more than the usual Afshin-to-Nahid devotion between Nahri and that brutish demon of a man. What a useless, distracting emotion. How ridiculous to be flashed a pretty smile and lose all sense of—
Aqisa smashed him across the face with the flat part of her sword.
“Ow!” Ali hissed in pain and then lowered his zulfiqar. He touched his cheek, his fingers coming away bloody.
Aqisa snorted. “It isn’t wise to spar while distracted.”
“I wasn’t distracted,” he said heatedly.
Wajed lowered his weapon as well. “Yes, you were. I’ve been training you since you were waist high. I know what you look like when you’re not focusing. You, on the other hand …” He turned to Aqisa, his expression admiring. “You’re excellent with that zulfiqar. You should join the Royal Guard. You’d get your own.”
Aqisa snorted again. “I don’t take orders well.”
Wajed shrugged. “The offer remains.” He gestured to the opposite corner of the Citadel courtyard where Lubayd appeared to be holding court before an enthralled group of young recruits, no doubt telling some highly sensationalized tale of the trio’s adventures in Am Gezira. “Why don’t we take a break and join your loud friend for some coffee?”
Aqisa grinned and headed off, but Wajed held Ali back another moment.
“Are you all right?” he asked, lowering his voice. “I know you, Ali. You’re not just distracted, you’re holding back. I’ve seen you get the same look in your eyes when you’re training others.”
Ali pressed his mouth in a thin line. Wajed had struck closer to the truth than he liked. Ali was holding back, though not quite in the way the Qaid meant. And it wasn’t only memories of Nahri that were distracting him.
It was the lake. It had been pulling on him since he arrived at the Citadel, drawing Ali to the walls