“There was a point when I thought Al Sharifs, the dynasty that ruled over these lands for two centuries, would end because of what I did. Ayaan’s news today…it fills me with joy, it feels like I can draw a breath for the first time. It galls me to look at him, yes, because he is a better man than I am.
“I do not care, however, whether it is he or I on the throne, whether it is my son or his that will rule Dahaar next. I’m not guilty of that sin.”
Nikhat rubbed the back of her neck with her fingers, rocking on the balls of her feet, her breath coming and going in hard bursts.
“Nikhat?” He grabbed her as she swayed. “Why do you care so much about this…about whether I leave Dahaar or not?”
“I don’t want to,” she said. “My life will be so much simpler if you leave. And yet, I see you and…” She had paid a high price, one he hadn’t asked of her, one that she suddenly wasn’t so sure about, so that he could do his duty, so that he could be the man he was destined to be, so that he could father the heir to the throne. “Leaving him to deal with all this when you can help, leaving him to deal with Dahaar, with your parents when you hold yourself responsible for all this, it sounds like the opposite of penance.
“This sounds like cowardice.”
“What would you have me do, Nikhat?”
The vulnerability in his words shook her, the trust in his dark gaze, how she wished she deserved it. She clutched his hands and tugged him toward her. She kissed his cheek, loving the raspy texture, holding him as if she never wanted to let go. “I think you have punished yourself enough. Your heart is your greatest gift, Azeez. But you won’t listen to me, will you?” She ran her fingers over his temple, tracing the strong lines of his cheekbones, loving him a little more in that moment.
How could she not?
“Tell Ayaan what you told me. Tell him why you want to leave, Azeez, the true reason. And if you still want to be punished, then accept whatever he decides for you as your sentence.”
She didn’t know if her answer angered him or affected him at all. He only stared at her for what felt like a long time before he turned around and left.
Nikhat reached for the wall behind her and crumpled against it. She felt as if she would shatter into a million pieces. Or maybe she already had and this was how it felt to fall apart.
Do you think I care whether it is he or I on the throne, whether it is my son or his son that will rule Dahaar next?
It felt as if the one decision that she had built her life around had suddenly morphed, changed shape into a question rather than a statement, and the foundations of her life were fracturing around it.
Even when she had ventured toward happiness again with Richard, she had only been hurt by his sudden change of heart that he wanted children. It had made her realize that she had been right about not wanting to give Azeez the choice between her love and the throne.
But now she was caught inside a hell of her own making, hating herself, pitying herself, questioning every decision she had ever made to arrive at this point in her life.
Because, as long as she had been confident that she had done the right thing, she had borne any amount of pain, soldiered on with her life even after losing everything that had been precious to her. But if Azeez hadn’t cared whether it was he or his brother who inherited the throne, or whose child was the heir…
She sank to the floor in a boneless heap, and wrapped her arms around herself.