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Arie
“CAN YOU SENSE HIM?” I clutched Gideon’s sleeve in a panic. “Is he nearby?” If Amir escaped, there was no telling what he might do. What if he turned the people against me? What if he came back with a mob?
“I’m not a magical bloodhound,” Gideon replied, but he held up a finger at the genuine horror on my face. “Hold on, one moment.”
He flashed out of sight, and I choked back my anxiety under everyone’s stares. Kadin pressed closer, though he never touched me, letting me know he was there.
We waited.
Out of respect, the guests stayed seated, whispering among themselves. I paced.
“I gather it’s not actually tradition to struggle at a human wedding,” Rena guessed after I passed her a third time.
I would’ve laughed if my eyes weren’t trained on my father’s still form. “No,” I answered Rena softly. “No, it’s not.”
The elderly woman finished cleansing his wound and placed her hands on his forehead, closing her eyes. The cuts and scrapes along his forehead knit together, healing before our very eyes. The larger wound was slower to repair, but the sickly yellow and green hues along the edges faded into more healthy colors. The whole room watched the process intently.
“So, how do you know Gideon?” Rena asked lightly.
This time, I did laugh, though without humor. “How do I? How do you know Gideon?”
That stopped her questions.
The healer moved aside. Baba’s wounds had turned to scars. Yet he still didn’t move or open his eyes.
Gideon reappeared, alone, and all thought of the Mere girl flew from my mind. “Where is he?” I demanded. “What happened?”
“Amir is gone,” he whispered, as if hoping to keep it private, but I had no such reservations.
“He can’t be gone!” I yelled, “I need him to fix what he’s done to Baba!”
A crease appeared between Gideon’s sharp blue eyes as he frowned. He knelt beside my father, pressing a hand to his forehead.
I’d never seen the Jinni’s expression quite this uncertain before. My heart pounded harder. “Something is wrong inside his mind,” Gideon said finally. His soft voice carried in the stillness of the room. “I’ve seen it before. The human body grows ill if a Gift is pressed onto it too strongly or for an extended period of time.”
Amir had been here for almost two full weeks. And I had no doubt he’d pressed. Guilt suffocated me.
Gideon stood slowly as he added, “I don’t have the skills to heal this kind of injury.”
I wanted to crumple. The only thing holding me up was the knowledge that Baba wasn’t dead yet. I’d never imagined King Amir would go this far when I ran away. This was all my fault.
“What do I do? There has to be someone who can heal him!” My voice broke. Kadin stepped forward, breaking all rules of etiquette to wrap an arm around me. I let him, but resisted the urge to bury my face in his chest. I needed to be strong. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. You,” I pointed to the Gifted healer, “can you fix him?”
She met my eyes and shook her head. “I’ve no experience with this sort of malady, Your Highness.”
Tears filled my eyes. I refused to let them fall while we had an audience. I was still struggling to find words when Gideon stepped closer and murmured, “There may still be a way to help him. There are healers trained in lacerations of the mind.”
One of my tears escaped.
“I will find a healer for your father, for your sake,” Gideon said, adding for only me to hear, And also for your mother’s. I knew your face was familiar when we met, but I didn’t recognize Hanna until you told me your Gift.
My lips parted. You knew my mother? How? When?
Gideon took my hands between his own, clasping them once, and then again twice more, in the way of the Jinn making a promise. That’s a story for another time. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
He vanished.
So many unanswered questions flew through my mind. But besides Gideon, the only other person who could answer them lay unconscious on the ground. His chest moved with each breath in and out, but he was otherwise still as death.
“Bring my father to his rooms,” I commanded the servants. “Make sure he’s comfortable.”
Our kingdom was vulnerable. My people looked to me now. I pulled away from Kadin and stepped past the holy man, who moved to the side. With everything that had taken place, especially the revelation of Gifted women, I needed to show strength. No doubt Amir had spies in place for the slightest opportunity to return.
I knew what I had to do.
Reaching for the heavy gold crown on the dais, meant to replace the one on my head during the wedding ceremony, making me a queen by marriage, I lifted it gently for all to see.
“Please be seated,” I said, though many already were. As the few remaining lowered themselves into their chairs, I waited.
Kadin raised a brow, but he sat as well. Rena didn’t take the hint until I waved for her to join him. That left only myself and the holy man at the front of the room.
I let the silence stretch until even the shuffling in the crowd ceased.
Carefully, I handed the crown to the holy man, maintaining ceremony as best as I could, considering I was breaking it.
Understanding my decision, he moved up the stairs to stand at the top of the dais.
Before I followed, I lifted my mother’s silver crown off my head. The diamonds sparkled in the sunlight. It only served to remind me of Gideon’s history with my mother.
Setting it on the cushion where the other crown had rested, I faced my guests. “My father is temporarily indisposed.” I emphasized the fleeting aspect. “In these difficult circumstances... I will rule in his place.”
I forced an edge to my tone so it wouldn’t crack. “With everyone gathered here for a ceremony, you will all bear witness to my coronation.”
They didn’t miss my choice of words. Bearing witness was usually reserved for the Jinn and meant to be taken with utmost gravity.
I knelt on the steps before the holy man.
Signaling for him to begin, I listened to the thoughts and outright whispers across the room that it wasn’t right, that a woman couldn’t rule—especially not a Gifted one.
I ignored them.
My wedding was now my coronation.
With everything that’d happened over the last hour, everyone was too shaken to protest. They sat shell-shocked as the ceremony unfolded.
When the holy man spoke the final rites, he raised the crown above my head, jewels glittering in the last bits of light as the sun set.
He lowered the crown onto my temples, and I felt its weight, cold and solid, heavier than I’d ever imagined.
No longer the princess of Hodafez.
I was the reigning Queen.