Page 60 of The Shrouded Queen
“I was never your daughter.” The words were out of me before I could stop them.
Ah, that’s it, is it? That’s why you’re out here pouting?His chuckle sounded again, shuddering down my spine.Better to think I was the villain and Shaya the hero than to accept that I simply did not love you.
“Shut up.” My cheeks felt hot, my chest tight. I tried to push his voice away, to focus on my prayers, to generate a plan for how Jasim and I would make it to the temple without Nasir’s help. But I thought I felt the king’s breath brush against the side of my face, could almost see his smile within his gray beard, his vindictive green eyes.
I tried, Amunet. But there’s nothing about you worth loving.
“Stop it.”
You think Shaya’s different? You think he will stand beside you? You think he loves you? Oh, you poor, stupid little girl—
“Shut! Up!”My eyes burst open.
Sara stood a few feet away, eyes wide and brows low.
No King Zaid. Of course.
My cheeks were hot for a different reason now. I reached up and slashed my nails across the back of my head. “What do you want?”
“Who were you talking to?” Sweat darkened the orange of the headscarf around her face as she surveyed the space around me. The clearlyemptyspace.
“I’m praying.” I infused my words with as much impatience as I could muster, all while fighting the tears that threatened to well in my eyes. Tears of fear, frustration, hurt.
The guard approached me. Hatred gleamed in her hazel eyes.
Nothing new, is it?King Zaid whispered in my ear, and my body stiffened.If not irrationally devoted, like your little pet, hatred is the only other option.
Go away!I mentally shouted at him.
“I didn’t realize our deaths affected you so much,” Sara said blandly.
“Any Ashoran death affects me. I’m a Gods-Chosen.”
King Zaid cackled, echoed by Sara’s scoff. “Come off it, Your Majesty. You don’t give a rat’s ass about us out here.” I didn’t even see the dagger in her hand before it was pressed to my throat. I went very still. “Your presence at their pyre is an insult,” she snarled. “You don’t care about any of our dead. You don’t care about Ashorah at all.” Her eyes flashed, the brown momentarily outweighing the green. “There’s only one reason Shaya would sire a child, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize it has nothing to do with saving Ashorah. Quite the opposite, in fact.” She bared her teeth at me. “You’re going to free him.”
As much as I was loath to admit it, King Zaid was right. This was nothing new. It was an accusation that had been thrown at me numerous times in Khada Palace. If someone thought of me as thespawn of evil, then they were also incapable of thinking Shaya could be something more than the villain. That he could care about the living as much as he cared for the dead.
But if I was being honest, I didn’t care. If Shaya wanted me to save Ashorah, I’d do it. If he wanted me to free him from the Underworld, I’d do it. If he wanted me to burn the whole world to the ground, I’d do it. I sent those words toward the pyre, hoping Shaya would hear them. If he didn’t, I’d repeat them at his temple.
“I made a deal with Nasir,” I told Sara. “And if you don’t remove that knife from my throat in three seconds, I’ll tell your prince the deal is off andyouare to blame.”
“Can’t do that with a hole in your throat.”
My hand shot up to grip her jaw, nails biting into her cheeks. She flinched, knife jerking against my throat. “Do it,” I snarled. “Deal ends either way.”
She ripped her face out of my grip, angry red slashes now adorning her cheeks from my nails. “I might hate you, Your Majesty, but I know you’re smart. It doesn’t matter what truth Nasir heard in your deal. I’ve known him my whole life. There are ways around his magic, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out. Your words meannothing.”
“I didn’t realize people here had such little trust in their prince.”
“I don’t trustyou. Deal or no, you’ll betray us. My parents were screwed over by you Khadas. I willnotlet it happen again.” Keeping her eyes locked with mine, she walked backward, Phadar’s sun on her chest catching in the midday light, a promise in her hostile face. Her sandals crunched in the sand as she finally turned and strode back the way she came.
She certainly seems to think your precious Shaya is the villain, the king mused.
“Just stop,” I said under my breath, turning my gaze back to the pillar of fire as if it were the king himself. “Please, just stop.”
He didn’t.Every story needs a villain, Amunet. And make no mistake, the Gods-Chosenisa story. A nice little fable to give the people hope.
“It’s more than a story,” I gritted out.
