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SHEM’S HAND DRIFTED TO the doorknob, but didn’t turn it, reinforcing my growing certainty that he was trying to dismiss me. He licked his lips, as if trying to find the right words. “I expect at least half a dozen council members will be present. They’re most likely already waiting on the other side...”
He was trying to find a graceful way to say goodbye. When he’d offered to find a position for me in the castle, he’d no doubt meant that someone else would figure it out.
“I understand completely,” I said, backing away. “I’ll wait in the servant’s hall.” If he remembered to ask if there was room for me, I’d be grateful. If he didn’t, I could try to make a connection on my own. Either way, I’d hold my head high until I left the castle.
“Wait—” Shem pressed a hand to my arm. “Please, stay. Just give me a moment to explain.”
He murmured to his guards to resume their normal rotations. Three of them vanished, presumably to another part of the castle, since the outer walls were enchanted against travel. The fourth moved a few paces away to stand by the door, facing the hallway. The carpet muffled his footsteps. Suddenly the space felt empty and overly silent.
Turning back to me, Shem looked at the door instead of my face, touching his decorative armor, then scratching his hair, and running a hand across his face. “I’m not explaining myself very well. I’m not... used to being so honest with someone.”
My brows shot up.
“Not that—I’m not saying that I’m not honest...”
Seeing his nerves, when he was always the confident one, somehow calmed my own. I pressed my lips together to hold back a smile.
“It’s just that, if you’d grown up here in court, you’d know that no one ever says what they’re really thinking. It’s too vulnerable.”
I nodded. It wasn’t just that way in court. All of Jinn was like that.
“It was a refreshing change of pace while we were away,” I filled in the rest for him, helping him with what I knew he was trying to say. “But now that we’re back, it needs to end. I truly do understand.”
“No!” he exclaimed. “The opposite, in fact. It’s more than refreshing. It’s... indispensable.”
I got the sense he’d wanted to say something else, but I didn’t know what.
For all his talk about being honest and forthright, he didn’t elaborate. If anything, he seemed to reel himself back in, becoming more formal again, placing his hand on the door as if to ground himself. “What I’m trying to say is, most royal children in the past used their council to plan elaborate celebrations and other frivolous things. But I’ve strived to make mine mean more than that. To make a difference. Whether that be searching for missing Jinn, closing a wayward daleth, discussing how to better prepare for attacks from the Khaanevaade, or...”
“Or planning a shivah,” I whispered. Perhaps he was still being vulnerable after all.
“Or planning a shivah,” he agreed, looking relieved that I understood.
Glancing at the lone guard just a few paces away, I lowered my voice, “I’m sorry, but... what does that have to do with me?”
Surprise lit his eyes. “Is it not obvious? I was hoping you’d want to join.”
My brows rose. I tried to find words and stuttered, “You—It was definitely not—I mean...” I paused, chewing my lip, and tried again. “What are the requirements for entry?”
“An invitation from the prince.” The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Which you have.”
Clearing my throat, I nodded brusquely. “All right, then.”
“That’s a yes?” he asked, starting to turn the doorknob.
A smile slipped out between the two of us. “It is.”
Shem swung the door open, pausing to speak with the guard again briefly, gesturing for me to enter first.
The council room was not what I’d expected. Instead of long-faced elders sitting in uncomfortable chairs, most of the Jinn were young—within their first century for sure. The large room wasn’t ugly or bare, but instead filled with luxury, including a second floor balcony and a cozy fire burning in the hearth. There was a long mahogany table where a few Jinn sat, but the seats were high-backed lounge chairs covered in cushy, blue velvet. Three of the four walls were covered in bookshelves, and the fourth held a window that took up most of the wall.
A handful of Jinn sat by the fire, and two more peered down at us from the balcony.
There were more women in the room than men, but all of the eyes pinned on my face were shrewd and calculating. I could practically hear their thoughts: Who is she to invade our space? I was clearly an intruder and would be treated as such.
No one greeted me right away, acknowledging the prince instead with nods and a few hellos as he stepped inside.
“Is the daleth closed?” a female asked, absently brushing her long black hair over her shoulder as she stood, pushing back her chair. With a glance at me, she waved to the tall candles spaced across the table. Flames sprang up from the wicks.
Here’s what I offer, she might as well have said out loud. What do you bring to the table?
Though the blatant use of Gifts was an obvious challenge, I didn’t take the bait.
Shem pulled out a chair for me to sit, then took the one beside me. “They sealed the portal less than an hour ago,” he confirmed, folding his hands in front of him, growing serious. “The lost ones were never found, and we’ll be planning a service to honor their memory.”
“And your guest?” another female Jinn at the far end of the table purred, leaning back in her seat as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Her sharp eyes studied me momentarily, before dismissing me.
“Yes, thank you, Milcah,” Shem said, shoving his chair back to stand and raising his voice. “Everyone? This is Jezebel. She was a close friend of our lost Jinn and will be helping plan the details of their shivah. Please welcome her to the council.”
Sharp eyes around the room pinned me to my chair.
I didn’t know what to say, but they were clearly waiting for me to begin. “How do you... normally proceed with planning a shivah at the castle?”
“We try to think of the family first,” Shem said gently, giving me an encouraging nod. “You know them best, so we will follow your advice.”
Scooting to the edge of my chair, I leaned onto the table and tried to project confidence that I didn’t feel. “Well...” I pictured my friend’s parents, one at a time, trying to envision how they’d respond, and spoke slowly, “Phillipa’s mother will most likely be inconsolable, but she’ll still want to share a few words, so we should arrange for someone to speak on her behalf.”
No one said a word, and I paused, uncertain, until Shem said, “Go on.”
“Asher’s father won’t want to attend, which will upset his mother, so perhaps...” I inclined my head toward Shem, recognizing the audacity of what I was about to say, “Perhaps the royal family could offer a small financial incentive? To make it more worth his time?”
Though I caught a few raised brows out of the corner of my eye, I kept my gaze on Shem, who nodded and said, “More than fair. We make it a priority to take care of the grieving family. Consider it done.”
A small but powerful win.
Inwardly, I cheered at the little victory. On the outside, I focused on being firm and decisive, expanding on the ground I’d gained.
I was a council member now. It was more than I’d ever dreamed possible.
I might be a little insect beneath their notice at the moment, but not for long. I’d make them accept me.
“With the extended family and friends, it might be nice to gather written condolences for the parents to read later.” I grew more confident with each word. “That way, if they’re not up to talking to anyone, they can still have something to hold onto and hear on their own terms.”
“We should make notes and assign these tasks to individuals,” Shem said, gesturing across the table to Milcah.
She grudgingly sat forward, picking up a blank sheet of parchment, and began to write my suggestions down.
“You’re forgetting food,” she grumbled.
A male Jinni sitting close enough to brush shoulders with her quickly agreed. “We’ll need quite a bit of food for those who want to sit shivah past the first day.”
“I know,” I said a bit too sharply. Softening my tone, I added, “That was my next request. Enough food to last seven days.” The parents would likely choose to sit shivah for the full week, meaning they wouldn’t wash their clothes, bathe, work, or travel more than a short distance until the mourning period was over.
As I continued, a few other Jinn chimed in. I didn’t worry about names or what they thought of me. All that mattered right now was impressing Shem enough that he would ask me to stay on long term.
That, and giving my friends a true shivah to honor their memory.
I grew quiet for a minute, letting the other council members edge me out of the conversation. I couldn’t change what I’d done—I didn’t want to, because it was the only way I could be free—but I could mourn my friends and give them the farewell they deserved. I’d make this shivah the best it could be. For them.
Once everyone had exhausted their ideas, Shem assigned different duties to everyone, then clapped his hands on the table and stood. “Let’s adjourn for the evening. Everyone, please get started as soon as possible. We’ll meet again in the morning to finalize plans.”
I stood with the others, lingering next to the table as they filtered out of the room, one by one. Awkwardly, I cleared my throat to get Shem’s attention, as he finished speaking with two council members who pretended not to see me as they swept out of the room.
Quietly, so the last few Jinn still in the room couldn’t hear, I murmured, “I just wanted to thank you before I went home. And... I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Well,” Shem dragged out the word. “If it’s not too forward of me, I took the liberty of asking Gabriel to prepare a room for you.” He gestured toward the door, where he’d stood outside speaking with the guard when we’d first come in. “It’s located in the residents wing of the castle,” he added with a lopsided grin. “In case you decide to stay.”
I forgot about the remaining council members, bringing my hands to my mouth. I hadn’t dared hope for so much. “Truly?”
“Of course,” he replied, smiling down at me. I might’ve been imagining it, but he almost seemed to be blushing slightly.
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” I said softly, bowing my head.
Asher, Phillipa, Miriam, and Simon’s faces flashed through my mind, one after the other. I could picture them shaking their heads at me.
Agreeing.
But this was my future—which had been essentially non-existent—opening up before me. This one opportunity held a thousand possibilities.
One of whom, stood right before me.
Still smiling.
“You do deserve it,” he urged when I didn’t say anything further.
I didn’t want to hesitate anymore or let the past hold me back. I needed to do whatever it took to make this situation permanent. To never, ever suffer the manipulation of others again. If that meant accepting a place in the castle with Shem, I would take it, gladly. If it meant covering up what I’d done—what I’d been forced to do—I’d do it. And most importantly, if it meant I had to do it again... I knew now, I would.
Slowly, holding my breath, I dared to reach out and take his hand. “I really don’t,” I answered him honestly. He’d never know how to true that was. Bowing low, I pressed my lips to his knuckles, and gave him a rare, true smile as I added, “But I humbly accept.”
THE END.
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