Page 92 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
Namir dropped to the ground. “I will not. I will stay right here.” He moved his hand toward her, though he kept it flat on the floor. “I will not leave you.”
Zahra hiccupped as another cry tried to escape her throat. She leaned against the wall, clutching her dress around her. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, but she forced them open, staring at Namir’s curls as if looking away would make him leave.
After several moments of Zahra’s heavy breathing echoing in the room, Namir’s voice came softly. “What would you like to do?”
His words surprised her. She shivered, afraid to respond. “I want to leave this place.”
Namir accepted her decision with a slight nod. He opened his mouth with hesitation. “May I touch you?”
After a few moments of silence, Zahra nodded. He moved closer to her, holding up his cloak. With great care, he placed the cloak around her. She hissed in pain, and he whispered an apology. He returned the straps of her dress to her shoulders with the same gentleness.
With her permission, he slipped his hands under her neck and legs, lifting her slowly into the air. She wrapped her arms around his neck, afraid he would drop her. He held her with such strength that the fear left her mind, and she buried her tear-covered face in his shirt.
Zahra listened only to his breathing as Namir carried her, ignoring the whispers of the other servants and the quiet complaining of the sisters. Ramses gasped when he saw them, but Namir said nothing as he carried Zahra away from her master’s house.
21
Zahra’s Truth
Zahra lay on her stomach in a daze. Her face was half buried in a pillow, and her back was exposed. She gripped Namir’s hand firmly, clearly aware of the physician’s every move. The physician spoke to her softly, assuring her that the pain would soon subside. Zahra flinched with every touch to her back, fighting whimpers and praying that this would be over soon.
Namir sat in a chair beside her, holding her hand and watching the physician work. He swore to her that the physician wouldn’t hurt her. The physician had insisted she tend to the King’s injured hand first, but Namir had declined and ordered that Zahra be seen first. Ramses had tended to Namir’s right hand instead. The bandage was bloody, the wound a result of Namir catching the rod before it could hit Zahra.
She couldn’t see her back, but she could guess how it looked: a mess of bruises and welts, with a thick cut diagonally across her spine where Bahiti had struck her twice.
The physician had looked at her with surprise and pity. A feigned expression of worry for the benefit of the King, no doubt.
The physician finished sealing the cuts and requested that Namir leave the room so she could apply the bandages. Zahra’s gaze shot to Namir’s, her grip on his hand tightening.
Namir looked at her with uncertainty. “You will have more privacy if I leave.”
She did not care. She did not want to be left alone withher.
Namir turned to the physician. “She would like me to stay.”
“Of course.” The physician was kind as she helped Zahra into a sitting position. Namir turned away as the physician undid Zahra’s dress and applied the bandages. All the while, Namir did not look, but he held Zahra’s hand.
When the physician was done and Zahra was dressed, the physician excused herself and beckoned Namir to follow. Namir invited Ramses back into the room, letting go of Zahra’s hand. “I will be right back. Ramses is here for you.”
Zahra hugged her arms, her voice stuck in her throat as she watched him go. She turned to Ramses. He was watching her with a worried expression. He moved his hands, asking if she needed anything, but she shook her head.
In truth, she had not neededanything. Namir could have left her there, and she would have cleaned herself up and borne the pain for the day. That was how she had always handled it. Tomorrow, her wounds would be gone anyway.
What she had asked of him was selfish, and she was ashamed that he now knew her secret. He was never supposed to know. She had not wanted him to. And now, he, Ramses, and many others had seen her scars, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Zahra moved to a nearby couch. She declined Ramses’s offer to help her walk, settling herself on the soft fabric. She hugged a pillow to her chest and waited for Namir to return. It was notlong before he came back and excused Ramses from his post. He sat in a chair across from Zahra, trying to meet her eye. She avoided his gaze and stared at the floor.
Her chest tightened. She wished to say something, but what could she say? What did he want to hear?
“Thank you,” she mustered.
Namir was silent. She was tempted to look at his face to know what he was thinking, but she did not allow herself to. Did he regret helping her? Was he disgusted by her life, by her weakness? Byher?
The words that broke the silence were not the ones she was expecting. “How long have you worked for Bahiti?”
Zahra glanced up as she tried to gauge the intent behind his question. “Why do you want to know?”
Namir stared at her in disbelief. “I wish to help.”
