Hadhi leaned on the railing, feeling very nearly relieved. They were such terrible truths to share and such an angry reason she had chosen to do so. Only because she felt him preparing to offer sympathy, and she wanted none. She far preferred disgust to sympathy. But Noam had offered neither.
He let her speak her ugliness then offered levity in exchange. How did such a man cross her path? It seemed...impossible. Hadhi let herself pretend, only for a moment, that he had asked to know her word for beautiful so he could say it to her. So he could call her beautiful. It was beyond silly. She was not beautiful. But his quiet acceptance of her hideous stories made her feel incredibly safe beside him. She never felt safe.
All evening she’d been on edge, maybe longer. For a year and a half, she’d been watching vigilantly over her family, waiting for any of her father’s victims to come seeking vengeance. It felt like she hadn’t breathed in so long. But even knowing the mystery woman might have been a nymph, even knowing she would have to face her now and defend her family however she could. Still, when she walked with Noam she felt safe. Even before she spoke, she felt...different with him. When they had walked the veranda silently looking for more privacy. Hadhi liked knowing what they were doing, though she had not asked. She rarely experienced that sort of affinity with anyone but Nuru. It was strange that she felt in tune with him when he was so different from her. Strange and lovely. But it was not attraction like she was letting herself pretend. It could not be. He was so bright, and happy, and just—different from her.
He seemed only to love his siblings when he spoke of them. She heard no resentments in his tone. He would not understand what it was to be thrilled and vindicated that Asha was not here, but also to feel sad for her.
The silk he wore reminded her so much of the one Mzaa had destroyed, with the golden outstretched arms of Tikoo. Hadhi felt ragged inside from her failure to protect it.
“We are family now, Hadhi, that means we protect each other." Rama’s strong voice commanded.
Over the years without her, Hadhi had forgotten all the lessons Rama tried to teach her and become the monster her father wanted from her instead. It was shameful.
Noam was nothing like Hadhi. Nothing that was ugly and resentful. And yet, he seemed to understand her. Who was he? How did one become so lovely?
“How long has your father been gone?” Hadhi asked, wondering at Noam’s ease with his father’s memory. Perhaps one day she would look back on her father and smile. Perhaps one day she and Asha might be comfortable with one another again.
Noam laughed at the question, so thoroughly surprising Hadhi that she jerked aside to face him.
“My father is not gone. I am.” Noam grinned.
“Ha, ha.” Hadhi threw up a hand to cover her lips, startled by her ability to be truly amused despite the monster within. “That would make a difference.”
Oh, what a difference it might have made if she had escaped her father. Hadhi began imagining herself so, but her mind stopped working. Noam was walking forward, his eyes so intent she felt trapped by—anticipation. She wanted to speak, but could not think of words in any language.
He reached out when he was just before her and pulled Hadhi’s hand gently from her lips. “Now there is a smile you should not hide.” He stared at her lips as he had stared at the dancers: entranced. “It is very becoming.”
Hadhi could not tell if she was still smiling or not; with his eyes on her lips, her entire face tingled. Even her heartbeat felt skittish, tickling her from within her chest. They lingered, so still that she could not say how long it lasted, but the cool of the evening brushed across her face, and his gaze so captivated her that she forgot everything but him.
All at once, he dropped her hand and turned away. He leaned over the railing into the night and spoke lightly, as though he had never held her hand, never stared into her eyes, as though she was not ugly, as though she might just be—
Hadhi stopped her mind right there. Every bit of her felt tingly and alive and free of ugliness. But she could not let her mind wonder and want what it clearly could not have.
“Why can’t you risk your sister catching Azize’s attention?”
Hadhi rubbed her hands down the sides of her gown and forced on her bright smile even with his back to her. Very carefully, she walked to the terrace a few feet from him and stared into the night as well.
“After our father was murdered, our uncle took over his home, work, and family.” Hadhi could feel Noam startle at her calm words about Baba’s demise, but he said nothing, so Hadhi just answered the rest of his question. “He has made a point of refusing all men who ask for us.” Hadhi did not mind that fact; it was what it spoke to of his feelings that concerned her. Uncle Kafil left the ball after dinner. He had not said a word to any of them. He did not even treat them like family anymore. “If a prince were to ask, he could not refuse, and the prince would be responsible for the family.”
“So why not bring her and have one more chance at catching his favor?” Noam did not look her way. Hadhi tried not to feel hurt. It had all been her imagination. She was sour-faced-Hadhi still, an unremarkable.
“Because she has no love for us,” Hadhi repeated her mother’s explanation. Most times, it made sense. It was certainly true Asha had no love for them. But she did work hard without complaint. She could make much more of a fuss or stop working altogether. Hadhi shook off her questions. “She might convince the prince to leave us to Uncle Kafil.”
“And you’d die all alone in your cobwebs.” His voice did not quite smile, but it sounded unconvinced. “Don’t you think eventually your uncle will allow you to marry some boy you love?”
Hadhi stared into the night. Loved? What was that anyway? Mzaa loved Baba and he had treated her as coldly as he did anyone.
“One day we would marry.” Hadhi spoke quietly. She felt a shudder shake her spine and clenched her teeth against the feeling. “To someone useful to Uncle Kafil. Or someone he owed. And we would be good, do our duty, and strive never to bring any negative notice to ourselves.”
“But it would be different with Azize?” Noam asked, startling Hadhi.
She had almost forgotten he was there, so caught up in the realization that nothing had really changed with Baba’s death. She had just been voicing fears she’d needed to say to someone, but never could in her home. Noam was so easy to talk to. Hadhi did not talk like this with...anyone.
“How can you be sure Azize will be any better? He only came back into your lives tonight.”
“Azize...loved his mother.” It was the best compliment she could find for the boy she had seen as a child, but never really known. “And he’s never wanted power over others. Perhaps if I marry him, I will still be nothing but duty-bound, and useful to my family, but it would be my choice. My use would be to the part of my family that I chose. My sister Nuru would never be offered up to satisfy someone’s debt or to coddle their ego. Mzaa Sabra and Lin would be free to remain together without her having to remarry. Asha... would be free to choose her fate as well. And I would get away from Mzaa.” Hadhi snarled the last bit without meaning to.
Noam’s gaze soothed her like moonlight after a punishing day, so gentle.
“What of love?” He asked, with a smiling whisper.
“Love is the luxury of men,” Hadhi snapped. And felt immediately bad for it as she watched him flinch. He was worrying about his friend. Worrying about what Hadhi’s plan would cost Azize, the way Hadhi worried for Nuru. “But...” Hadhi said more gently, wanting to soothe him, but needing to do so only with the truth. “If he cared for Nuru, saw to her safety and happiness, I could love a man for that.”
Noam’s eyes crinkled like he might smile, but it was a sad expression. Hadhi leaned closer, pulled towards him with her breath trapped in her chest, so it ached.
Noam straightened and clapped his hands together, looking away. Hadhi felt oddly bereft for a moment, then his eyes met hers again, with his playful smile returned. “Then we’d best get you back in.”
“Yes.” Hadhi held tight to her bright smile as she took up his arm again. She wanted to cry. It had been so peaceful simply being with him. Forgetting the night, and her duty, and... her self, for awhile. She’d been someone else for a moment or two, someone who was not so ugly.
“Don’t smile so much,” he instructed as they walked back the way they had come. When Hadhi opened her mouth to protest, he smiled and spoke once more. “Trust me. You are much lovelier when you don’t force a smile. It also wouldn’t hurt to be less than receptive to his attention.”
Hadhi glared. Why was he trying to ruin her chances? And what made him think she was so foolish she would surrender to his commands?
“The woman he danced with all evening, Azize liked her because she did not care a bit that he was the prince.”
Hadhi stopped near an open arch to the ballroom and her eyes cut across the floor and found the prince, talking intently to his father. Hadhi smiled wryly.
“Then, as usual, Mzaa knew best. Asha never cared that he was prince.”
Noam’s hand tightened briefly around hers, and his thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist. When she looked up to meet his eyes, he wore his usual easy smile.
“Why doesn’t she care?” he asked.
Hadhi shrugged. “She was the daughter of Zuberi, his best beloved. What care had she for princes? She was the child of a great man."
Noam snorted. “You may not have been your father’s ‘best beloved’ but you were his child. Perhaps you should try thinking as she does.”
Hadhi nodded, for no reason other than she suddenly felt like agreeing to whatever he asked, anything to keep him looking at her as though she was the only person who existed.
“What is a mzaa?” he asked suddenly, a sheepish smile dancing across his features and making him look truly beautiful.
Hadhi sighed and smiled at once. “Mother.”
“Oh.” Noam blushed. “That was what I thought. Then you used it for your father’s other wife and...” He trailed off
Hadhi grinned. “It is an honorary title, for Sabra.” Hadhi bit her lip, about to resist the urge to ask her question. She hated looking foolish.
"Fairy is a simple language, Hadhi. Even your insignificant mind should be able to master it.” Baba swatted Hadhi’s head, enraged and embarrassed, when she stumbled over her words before his friends. "Be silent if you can’t wrap your tripping tongue around it. Or make yourself useful and go hunt. No man wants a fool around.”
Hadhi shook off her father’s voice. Noam was nothing like him. But her father’s memory was half the reason she had not admitted to Noam that she did not know what the report on his home said. She could not read or write in Fairy. She was so foolish she could barely speak it. But...with Noam, she did not feel foolish.
Just unfamiliar. It felt innocent and fun sharing anything with him, even if only failing to entirely know the other’s language. “What is a cobweb?” she asked softly.
He beamed at her, as if her question charmed him. “A spider’s trap.”
“Oh.” She bit the inside of her lip to fight her spreading smile. Learning had never felt fun before, only threatening and embarrassing. Like dancing had never felt comfortable. And letting a stranger touch her had never felt safe. Everything was different with him.
“Come along,” he spoke quietly. “Let’s go try to trap you a prince.”
Hadhi yanked his arm back, suddenly stopping him. “You are like my mother!” Hadhi said in shock. “You smile, and you laugh—and you lie. So people will like you. So they will not send you away.”
Noam made no response, just smiled and tugged Hadhi back into the room. He led her to the prince without speaking another word. But Hadhi felt certain she was right and wondered, in absolute horror, if she had perhaps been unfair to her mother all these years, resenting her easy smile and conversation. If someone like Noam could worry about being cast aside, surely her mother had a right to fight as hard as she could to be wanted.