The Rose & the Dagger (The Wrath and the Dawn #2) - Renee Ahdieh Page 0,54

wait for her life to happen.

She would make it happen.

“I’ll go to breakfast with you now, and then we’ll spend the afternoon with Baba,” Shahrzad said. “I’ll make sure everyone sees me. Will that help lessen your worries?”

The lines across Irsa’s forehead stretched even farther. Shahrzad could see her warring with herself. “Is what you’re doing really of such import?”

“Yes.” Shahrzad did not falter in her response.

Her sister looked to the floor, wrapping the end of her chestnut braid around her fingers. “Tonight is . . . a dangerous night to be taking chances.”

“Why is that?”

Irsa paused a final time, still prevaricating. Then she leveled her gaze on Shahrzad. “Come with me.” She took her hand and led her outside.

They rounded the maze of tents until they stood at the fringes of the encampment. There—in the distance where the soldiers had moved their camp—Shahrzad saw a large band of men saddling their horses.

Assembling their weapons.

At the head of this cadre sat Tariq astride his dark bay stallion, his cloak billowing in the breeze. The banner of the White Falcon flew beside him.

“They’re going out on their first raid,” Irsa said. “They plan to leave by midday.”

“What?” Alarm crept into Shahrzad’s stomach, tangling her insides in a coil of knots.

A—raid?

“Tariq is leading a contingent of troops toward a nearby stronghold tonight . . . with the intention of overthrowing its emir and seizing control,” Irsa said quietly.

“How do you know this?” Shahrzad cried.

“Rahim told me.”

“Which stronghold?”

“He didn’t tell me that,” Irsa confessed. “I do still share a tent with the Calipha of Khorasan, after all.”

Once more, Shahrzad’s thoughts flitted through her mind like stones across a pond. If Tariq was leading a band of soldiers on a raid along the nearby border of Khorasan and Parthia, they were likely trying to seize control of that border.

Which would leave the border at risk. Leave it vulnerable to outside attack.

Vulnerable to Salim Ali el-Sharif, the power-hungry Sultan of Parthia.

Perhaps that’s their intention.

A sudden chill ran through her blood.

Shahrzad had to tell Khalid at once. She had to travel to Rey tonight and prevent the possibility of war with Parthia, before even more innocent people died without cause.

As her mind raced, a renewed sense of guilt crashed down upon her. Shahrzad was responsible for this impending disaster as well. Were it not for her, Tariq would never have engaged in this foolhardy pursuit for justice.

This foolhardy quest to avenge his love.

“Shahrzad?” Irsa took hold of her shoulder, shaking her from the tumult of her thoughts. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“What?”

“It’s not—dangerous, is it?” Irsa asked. “What you’re doing—it’s not dangerous?”

Shahrzad laughed, but the sound did not ring true. She spun away from the soldiers with their gleaming swords. The two sisters returned to their tent.

Without a word, Shahrzad poured water from the pitcher into the copper basin. Her hand shook, causing her reflection to waver. Setting her jaw, Shahrzad tugged her wrinkled qamis over her head, determined to wash and go about her day.

To stay the course, whatever may come.

“Shahrzad!” Irsa’s outcry came from a face drained of all color.

Curse these damnable bruises. As well as Artan Temujin.

She brushed aside her sister’s worry with a flick of a wrist. “Don’t concern yourself. These are not serious injuries.” But Shahrzad could see her words falling on deaf ears. And dubious eyes.

Should she simply tell Irsa how she had sustained them? Confess all and hope her sister would keep quiet for just a short while longer?

When goats fly.

It was too risky. Especially now that Irsa was confiding in Rahim. If Irsa misspoke, Rahim might say something to Tariq. And Tariq, of all people, could not know anything about her visits to Khalid.

The risk was simply too high. The hatred simply too rife.

No. It was best Shahrzad not say a word of it to Irsa.

Shahrzad turned her back on her sister and began scrubbing water and a gritty bar of Nabulsi soap along her body.

When she lifted her arm, the lingering scent of sandalwood rose from her skin.

Khalid.

Fear stole its way into her heart. Her throat swelled tight.

Clenching her teeth, Shahrzad fought back the rush and continued bathing.

Now is not the time for cowardice.

After all, if everything went to plan, they would have answers soon. Once Shahrzad and Khalid knew what to do about the curse, all could be revealed.

Then everyone would know the truth.

They would all know that the boy Shahrzad loved was not the monster they believed him to be. That