THE TRUE KING OF DAHAAR(42)

                A tightness inched into his face as Ayaan studied him. “Fine,” he finally said, his mouth compressed into a thin line. “Nikhat will accompany you then.”

                “No.”

                The denial, spat out at the same time by Nikhat and he, reverberated around the vast hall.

                Both Ayaan and Zohra cast them looks, confusion and concern ringing in their gazes. “No choice for either of you,” Ayaan announced.

                Azeez clicked his jaw shut, fighting for control over his temper. “Fine.” He turned toward Nikhat. “We leave at dawn tomorrow morning.”

                Nikhat shivered as Azeez moved past her, and the heat from his body beckoned her. But she couldn’t let him pass without doing her duty, without asking the question that she needed to. She clasped his wrist just as he turned. “You missed your sessions two days in a row.”

                His fingers landed on hers before she could blink, his mouth bared in a snarl. But whatever he had thought never came out. “No. I didn’t. I just took Khaleef with me,” he whispered in a low voice that pinged over her bare nape.

                But his unguarded expression told her everything he didn’t say. He had been getting increasingly short-tempered and restless these past few days, as though struggling against invisible chains.

                And just like that the pieces clicked into place. She loosened her grip on him, and he left.

                She had heard the quiet whispers among the older servants about the charity function tomorrow, the annual presentation for the educational trust that was set up in her name…

                How had she forgotten?

                She had looked at her calendar as she always did, this morning, too, without a second’s thought.

                “Would you like to explain, Nikhat?”

                Nikhat braced herself and turned to face Ayaan. “There’s nothing to exp—” It was the first time she saw real fury in his copper-colored gaze.

                “What in God’s name did my brother mean about always being a prisoner?”

                She could just tell him it was nothing or she could tell him the truth and hope he would begin to understand. Because it was never going to be easy to accept. Thinking Azeez had been dead was one thing. Knowing he was alive somewhere in the world, but away from Dahaar, would be a special kind of torture. On every one of them. “He needs a breather, Ayaan. From you, from the palace, from everything that’s been going on.”

                Princess Zohra bristled next to Ayaan. “He’s the one who’s—”

                Nikhat met the princess’s gaze full on. “You do not know what he suffers, Princess. Believe me, none of us do.” Only after the words were out did she realize how defiant she sounded.

                Ayaan leveled a thoughtful look at her. “Say what’s on your mind, Nikhat. Without hesitation.”

                “It’s Amira’s birthday tomorrow.”

                Ayaan looked as if she had struck him. Zohra’s hand found his and tightened. That’s what Azeez needed too. And despite her resolve to keep everything utterly professional between them, Nikhat realized she couldn’t leave Azeez alone. Not tomorrow, of all days.

                “He…” She ran a shaking hand over her face, struggling to find the words. “He’s suffering, Ayaan, in the palace. He’s trying, for your sake, but—”