As soon as Prince Azize walked back into the hall Mzaa smacked Hadhi on the shoulder, Hadhi carved on an overly bright smile. Honestly, she could not think of a thing she hated more than forcing a smile. Except perhaps talking about her dead father, as she had been forced to several times tonight. Having to pretend that he loved her. It had been over a year since he died yet all anyone wanted to speak to her about was her terrible grief. She did not think she could stand to hear it one more time without blurting out the truth. She hated herself so much sometimes, as much as everyone else seemed to hate her. But she could not think about that right now. Prince Azize’s constantly smiling friend, Noam, was walking towards her. She could not afford to offend the prince’s closest friend.
When he reached them, Hadhi sunk a bit at the knees, bowing her head.
“Oh, please do not bother with that for me,” Noam laughed. Always laughed. Who carried such light feelings with them all the time? “The only special thing about me is my friend.”
“Nonsense,” Mzaa patted his arm, tilting her head to the side in a way she knew was lovely. “You would not be so fortunate in friend were there not something very special about you.”
Hadhi felt her shoulders tightening and resisted the feeling. It had always struck her as odd that her mother got along so poorly with Asha when the two had so much in common. Both so lovely, both so adept at using that beauty to manipulate men. Hadhi had to work even to hold their attention.
“Don’t you agree, Hadhi?” Mzaa’s voice was sweet as it slipped dart-like from the corner of her lips to stab Hadhi back to attention. “The prince would never befriend an unremarkable man.”
“Of course.” Was all Hadhi could manage.
Noam chuckled; he tilted his head, only slightly in Hadhi’s direction so Mzaa could not see and winked one eye. It was a tiny motion, but combined with his smile, it struck Hadhi in the stomach like a swift kick, stealing her breath.
As quickly as he had managed it, he turned back to Mzaa smiling and covering her hand with his own. “How unfortunate for all those unremarkable souls out there.”
They laughed together, her mother and this man who was perhaps only a little older than Hadhi, and Hadhi felt slighted. That was the sort of thing her father used to say about her, that she was unremarkable.
Their laughter made her bitter. This man was no more remarkable than she was. Why was he so light? Just because he was beautiful? Did he think that made him special? It did not. Beauty was bestowed on terrible people as often as good. Perhaps more. Baba had been beautiful.
“Where is your friend?” Hadhi asked. Her tone was perhaps a bit sharp, but all her teeth were showing, so they could not fault her for lack of a smile.
Noam turned slowly. Beyond him, Mzaa was glaring at her, but he, as always, was smiling. This time the look was so big, and so...amused Hadhi felt herself heating with embarrassment.
“His dance partner fled without giving a name.” He spoke slowly, and his eyes traveled over Hadhi so carefully she was sure he must know everything about her: from the anger she felt inside to the way her blush and his eyes were leaving her with a bit of a chill. “You know men love a mystery.”
Perhaps it was just her imagination again, but she felt like she had been slapped by the comment, as though he meant her to be.
“Prince Azize is off to discover her identity. He thought he knew every woman here.”
“Yes,” Mzaa drew his attention away again, setting Hadhi free. She wanted to sink into the floor. “It is quite odd. She is a stranger to us as well.”
“Perhaps she is precisely what she claimed to be then, a nymph stealing into the party for a bit of fun.”
“A nymph!” Hadhi’s heart raced as she searched the wide room for her sister. Nuru was dancing with a local boy, Ayinde, in the middle of the floor, bright and happy and free, because she knew the prince would not want her. Hadhi’s gaze tore to Sabra chatting with other mothers and holding Lin in her arms. They were safe, thank the spirits. If the nymph had come for them, it left without getting its prey. Perhaps it would go in search of Asha, she was Baba’s favorite after all.
Hadhi felt her heart pounding against her ribs and forced her breathing to slow and her pulse to steady. She had felt suspicious earlier, stalked, but not by the woman. Even when the light and the curse winds came, she hadn’t connected it to that woman. Why had she not even considered her?
When that woman had stood in the doorway, her eyes had scanned the room, locking in on Hadhi. That alone should have made her suspicious. But she had looked Hadhi over like a carcass and smirked, filling Hadhi with all those old familiar feelings, ugly and unloved. She had felt worthless from the way Azize left without giving Hadhi another thought.
She did not want Azize, but—Why did she always have to be the last person anyone wanted to be near?
It had all felt too familiar to be magical. But what if that was the nymph? What if she had come not yet for vengeance, but to play with them?
“It was a joke, I am sure.” For once the prince’s friend did not sound amused, only curious. Was she a mystery now? How flattering. Hadhi thought she might spit at the man were this any other day. What did she care if she had attracted him? She was not here because she desired a husband. She needed to wed the prince for her family. “Actually I came here about another mystery. I understand not all the ladies of your family are in attendance.” Hadhi looked up to find him still regarding her, and he was not even looking at her scars. She had felt him do so earlier, when he was with Azize, but now his gaze studied her eyes and expression and he even seemed a bit pleased to have her attention back.
“Yes, my daughter Asha.”
“Oh, is she your daughter?” Noam glanced back at Mzaa. “I thought she was a child of a different marriage?”
“Any child of my husband’s is a child of mine,” Mzaa said with genteel grace. “So believe all Zuberi’s wives.”
Hadhi’s eyes found the ground, and her teeth rubbed hard across one another. It was such a blatant lie. It should show on her mother’s face the way lies always showed on Hadhi. A ll lies show but one. Why had no one seen her biggest lie?
But Mzaa had a talent, as did the daughter she would never but now claim. Lies never showed on them.
“Of course,” Noam said pleasantly. It seemed sincere, but Hadhi doubted he was.
“She took ill just before the ball, poor girl. The truth is she made herself ill, insisted on patching a hole in the roof, right in the midday heat.” Mzaa leaned in conspiratorially, even going so far as to dart a look around the room before continuing her little invention. “I think she was unnerved by the idea of seeing the prince again. They were well known to each other, but not in a friendly way.”
“Ah,” Noam nodded his understanding. He would leave now. Hadhi could just stand here, with her mother and her sour face, and watch over her siblings from a distance. Hadhi felt his gaze on her again and looked over, forcing a bright smile, she would not contradict her mother, but that did not mean she must speak and agree with her.
It should make Hadhi happier to see her father’s favorite missing this ball. Asha would put her sisters to shame with her bright smile, and her easy conversation, and her knowledge. All Zuberi’s daughters and wives spoke enough of the common Fairy tongue to get by; they had once been wealthy and well educated after all. But Asha was fluent. More than that, she’d spent her formative years studying other lands and talking with every foreign ship captain who came to the port their father had controlled. Asha knew enough and was lovely enough even to have outshone the nymph.
Hadhi felt oddly torn over the whole thing. She knew why Asha was Baba’s favorite, even she felt the pull to smile when Asha did, or to laugh at her jokes. It felt wrong to hate her as much as she did, but she doubted Asha ever gave much thought to her. And now Hadhi couldn’t tell if her heart was racing in fear for Asha, all alone and unprotected—or in anticipation, for what she might suffer. She was hateful. Just like Baba wanted.
“Well,” Noam broke the silence, he would be nice to have around dinner, the only ones who ever broke that silence were Mzaa or Asha, and usually with a fight. “Lady Jauhar, would you allow me the honor of dancing with your lovely daughter?”
Both Mzaa and Hadhi were a bit shocked by this. Surely he would prefer to dance with Jauhar herself. Two of his friends had come to dance with Mzaa and wound up tricked into dancing with Hadhi first. Not that it had helped Mzaa at all.
“By all means,” Mzaa beamed. “But you must call me only Jauhar. We have no titles here.”
He lifted Mzaa’s hand and lowered his lips to the back of it, smiling into her eyes up to the very last second before his lips touched. “It will be my very great pleasure, Jauhar.”
Hadhi ground her teeth. Really he need not pretend. He should just court Mzaa. They would look beautiful together, even if he was no less than ten years her junior. Mzaa’s dark, intense beauty would complement his lovely open smile and strong build. Hadhi was not lovely, even without the scars. But...she had noticed Noam dance with Anya earlier. Perhaps he liked dancing with women other men rejected. He dropped her mother’s hand carefully and took up Hadhi’s with the same bright smile he had been wearing all night. So Hadhi had no choice but to do the same.