She heard the woman’s frantic words echoing through Haitham’s chambers. She paused, considering continuing her way to the grand library and maybe asking him later about it. She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice. It had an edge to it. The words hissed in deep-gutted anger.
Whoever this was, it wasn’t one of the maids.
Was it another assassin? If so, was it the one tasked with taking the Earth Shaker family to safety?
She would allow him this moment of privacy with his brethren. She was sure he would tell her if there was something wrong. She had no reason to doubt him.
She took a single step away, then stopped. There was this nagging feeling that screamed at her at the mere thought of leaving. She gnawed at her lower lip, wondering about her next action. Should she leave? Should she interrupt whatever they were talking about? Surely, if it were something she wasn’t supposed to hear, Haitham would have held this meeting somewhere away from here. By now, he knew every nook and cranny in the castle grounds. She suspected he even knew about the secret passages she had yet to find— she might never find.
Even after months of living in the castle, Haitham’s room was still devoid of anything that indicated it was lived in. Even the bed looked immaculate, with not a wrinkle in the sheets, as if it had never been used. The desk was devoid of decoration.
She ignored the slight tightness in her chest and focused on the room’s two occupants. Two sets of eyes fell on her as she stepped into the room. None seemed surprised at her presence.
Right. Her core… she had yet to perfect its shielding—something she needed to remedy the first chance she got. If only Haitham had listened to her instead of insisting on still focusing on her control. She could control her ice just fine.
The woman stared at her, her emerald eyes shining with deep-seethed hate. Her blazing red hair swirled in the evening breeze, echoing her anger.
If looks could kill…
“What are you doing here?” Daliya glared back.
“I’m not here for you,” the woman hissed.
“Obviously,” Daliya snorted.
Haitham pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed in exasperation, his head tilted back. The woman turned to him and took hold of his arm.
“You have to listen to me. We can still salvage this.”
He gently extricated his arm from her grasp. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already made up my mind. You’ll have to believe that what I’m doing is for the best.”
“The best?” she snarled. “You think she would help us? She’s the princess! Whatever game she’s playing will only end up ruining you! You can’t trust her!”
“She’s here, you know,” Daliya said drily.
The woman whirled around. “You.” Her voice held so much venom that Daliya thought she would choke on the word. “This is all because of you.”
She lifted her hand up, and a flame burst into life. Daliya took a step back, watching her warily.
“Laila.” There was a warning in Haitham’s voice.
Laila bristled. She cursed under her breath, but the fire died down.
“I’m not going back, not now, but you already know this. So, why are you here?” Haitham asked her.
She paused for a moment, her angry eyes staring at Daliya. “I asked Saif to reconsider.” She turned to Haitham, a pained look in her green eyes. “This is your last chance before you’re branded a traitor. Your presence with the princess has been deemed too dangerous to ignore. Eliminating you is now their top priority.”
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Haitham didn’t seem distressed by the news. He merely nodded. “I see.”
“No, you don’t!” Laila crowded him. “This isn’t what we planned. This isn’t what we set to do all those years ago.” She held her hand out to him, a pleading expression on her face. “Come back with me. Saif said he was willing to turn a blind eye if you returned now, that he’s willing to forgive you.”
Haitham’s jaw clicked. His face hardened at her words. “His forgiveness is the last thing I’ll be coveting.”
She pushed him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you betraying your people?” She turned a disgusted look at Daliya. “For her?”
Daliya shuffled on her feet. She didn’t know things were so dire for him. He had seemed so nonchalant about the whole bodyguard thing that she thought there was nothing to worry about. Clearly, it wasn’t the case.
“I’m not your enemy. I will not hunt Ma’aribian citizens, nor will I hurt them.”
Laila snorted. “As if I would believe the words of a monster.”
Daliya sighed. “You don’t have to believe me. I still won’t do it.”
“Right,” she scoffed.
Laila turned to Haitham, ignoring her. “They’ve already issued the order. They’ll strike soon. You have to be careful.”
“I will.”
She nodded.
“Not all of them agree. There are still those loyal to you. But they’re wavering. They don’t understand the purpose of your actions.” She paused. “I don’t understand the purpose of your actions.” She took a step back from him. “We’ll be awaiting your orders.”
She sent Daliya a last glare, then left through the opened window.
They stood there, silent.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He shook his head. “It’s fine.” He sat heavily on the bed, his shoulders hunched over as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. Daliya sat next to him, hovering close to his hunched form.
“So, what are you going to do?”
He glanced at her. “Nothing.” He shrugged.
“But…aren’t they trying to kill you?”
“I would like to see them try.”
His eyes shone bloody red. Daliya suddenly felt sorry for them. She wondered who was truly the prey and who was the predator.
They stayed quiet for a moment. Haitham seemed lost in thought, his expression darkening along the sky outside.
“So… who is Saif?”
He glanced at her but said nothing. Just when she thought she should drop the subject and that maybe she should have gone to the library for some light studying before bed— and left them alone—he spoke.
“An old family friend who took me and Laila in after the war.”
So, he was family then. Daliya wondered how things were for him as a child. She pictured a child-size Haitham with a miniature red-haired girl by his side, her eyes spitting fire as she clung to his hand, glaring at whoever dared approach them, Haitham silent, his eyes observing their surroundings. Did he know his way around a dagger? Or did this family friend teach him how to wield a weapon, how to track his prey and take its life?
It must have been hard. To be orphaned at such a young age in a war-torn country, in a world that despised you just for existing.
She glanced at him, looking for any signs of sadness. The man who raised him had also ordered his execution. It sure was hard to live in this world.
She found none.
No, that wasn’t right. She looked at him, really looked at him. Underneath his expressionless mask was something buried, something… vulnerable. A couple of months ago, she would have missed it. She would have written it off as something inherent to being an assassin, heartless and cold. She would have thought him unmoved by the news. But not now.
Her hand closed around his arm and squeezed. “Can’t you talk to him? I can go with you. We can tell him that I’m not on the emperor’s side. Maybe he’ll listen.”
He shook his head. “He won’t believe you. I wouldn’t have if not for my ability to see souls. We might not be allowed to cross the base’s threshold. He’ll order your execution and mine before we can seek an audience.” He looked at her. “And I can’t fault him for it either. The princess had dealt heavy losses to the resistance. She was the emperor’s watchdog. Just the sight of her near one of our bases was enough to consider relocating.”
Damn. What kind of person was she?
“Besides, telling others you’re not the real princess might result in the emperor finding out.”
Her eyes widened. “You think he has spies? Inside the resistance?”
He snorted. “Of course he has.”
“Aren’t you all Ma’aribian?”
He paused. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head and looked down at his hand. A small flame burst inside his palm. The flame danced and twisted, then took shape. A face. “You’ll find that loyalty is quite hard to come by.”
