bit his lip, wanting to believe her but seeing little way out of a mess it was clear neither of them understood. “How?”
“First, we fix … this,” she said, waving a hand over his body. “You’ll use my hammam from now on. Send the servants away with one of your rants about modesty, and they’ll have no problem letting you bathe alone. I also have an Agnivanshi tailor I trust completely. I’ll tell him your scars are from the Afshin and you want them hidden. I’m sure he can design you some new clothes to do so.”
“Alizayd the Afshin-slayer,” he repeated grimly. “How fortunate that I’m known for killing a man who liked to scourge his opponents.”
“It’s a stroke of fortune I’ll take,” Hatset replied. “In the meantime, I’m going to reach out to a scholar I’m acquainted with. He can be a bit … difficult. But he probably knows more about the marid than anyone else alive.”
Hope rose in Ali’s voice. “And you think he can help us?”
“It’s worth a try. For now, put this business with the marid out of your mind. And eat.” Hatset pushed the platters at him. “I’d like to have you looking like less of a wraith by week’s end.”
Ali picked up a pitcher of rosewater to rinse his hands. “Why by week’s end?”
“Because that’s when your father is holding a feast to celebrate your return.”
Ali scowled, plucking a bit of rice and stew from the plate with his fingers. “I wish he’d hold a feast to send me somewhere that isn’t a marid-haunted island surrounded by a cursed lake.”
“He’s not going to be sending you anywhere if I have any say in it.” She poured a cup of tamarind juice and pushed it in his direction. “I just got you back, baba.” Her voice was fierce. “And if I have to fight some marid to keep you, so be it.”
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 its monster.
Nahri closed her eyes, quietly obeying the whispered commands of the servants painting her face. Muntadhir’s cruel taunt played ceaselessly in her mind; she’d been thinking about his words for days now, the accusation all the more haunting because for the life of her, Nahri could not help but fear it contained a kernel of truth.
One of her maids approached with a selection of ornate hair combs shaped like various birds. “Which would you like, my lady?”
Nahri stared at the jeweled combs, too glum to even silently assess their value. Her braids were already undone, her black curls spilling wildly to her waist. She touched her hair, twisting one lock around a finger. “It’s fine like this.”
Two of her maids exchanged nervous looks, and from the corner of the room where she’d been watching Nahri dress with open concern, Nisreen coughed.
“My lady, with all respect … between your hair and the dress, you do not quite appear to be going to a ceremonial event,” her mentor said delicately.
No, I probably look like I’m about to visit my husband’s bed, which is ironic because I’m damn well never doing that again. Nahri had again chosen to wear the sleeveless linen gown with the elaborate beaded collar that reminded her of Egypt. The prospect of interacting with the Qahtanis left her anxious and she wanted to cling to something familiar.
And she didn’t really care what anyone else thought about it. “I’m going like this. It’s a Geziri feast, and there won’t be any men in the women’s section to see me either way.”
Nisreen sighed, perhaps recognizing defeat. “I take it I am still to come up with some sort of emergency so that you can leave early?”
“Please.” Nahri couldn’t entirely snub the feast, but she could make sure she spent as little time there as possible. “Did you happen to notice if Jamshid left?”
“He did. He insisted on helping me restock the apothecary shelves and then departed. I told him he needed another day to recover, but—”
“But he wants to be at Muntadhir’s side.” Nahri waited until the maids had left to finish the sentence. “Muntadhir doesn’t deserve him.”
“I don’t disagree.” When Nahri moved to stand, Nisreen touched her shoulder. “You’ll take care with the queen tonight?”
“I always do.” It was the truth; Nahri evaded Hatset like she owed the older woman money. From what Nahri had observed, the queen