“Jauhar.” Hadhi froze at the sound of his voice, Noam. Her heart pounded so loud she had trouble hearing him over it. She had seen him on the hill with the other men. You can’t go to him with your kill between your teeth and expect praise like a good pet. Hadhi shook off Kane’s voice. Noam had not been looking the way of the hut when his friend taunted Hadhi. He was off with the other men, looking at Ether. So he had not seen her or heard his friend. How had he even come to be here? Was he here to see her?
She should not hope for any such things, but...she wanted to see him again, and she wanted him to want it too. What was wrong with her? She was never like this. But—she did not care. His friend was right, Hadhi had neither the looks nor the talent to attract Azize. She had never intended to take Azize a kill, but that was Hadhi’s only talent, and it would not impress Azize, or Noam, most likely. No one was impressed by her but butchers and tanners. Hadhi could not win Azize, so what should stop her from enjoying Noam?
“Can’t you reach?” Nuru came up behind her sister, taking the long ribbons from Hadhi’s hand to tie the dress up.
Hadhi leaned away from her sister to listen.
“It’s a group of the prince’s friends,” Nuru explained, misinterpreting Hadhi’s interest. “The man who took you to the king, and Masahiro, and Daniel, and two others I haven’t met yet.”
“Did...they say why they are here?”
“To see Sabra.” Nuru finished tying off the gown. “Daniel said they wanted to meet Lin since they had not last night. Most of them are outside with her and Asha, but the one you danced with said he came to see Mzaa; he is upstairs talking with her.”
“Of course,” Hadhi whispered, still straining to hear.
“Asha would not stop asking questions about the prince and the girl he danced with. All night long, it was, ‘Is Azize handsome now? Do you think he’s in love with this girl? Did anyone know who she was? She wouldn’t shut up.”
Hadhi was only half listening. Noam was in the other room, and just the sound of his light, friendly voice made her feel freer. She did not care if he was here to see Mzaa, and anyway, he might not be. Of course he would say that. One had to flatter Mzaa to get anything from her. Hadhi could never have him. He was bound to reject her eventually or leave when Azize did, but she could have a few moments, maybe even a few hours with him.
Absent-mindedly Hadhi helped her sister into her own gown from the night before. Adjusting the sash so it hung a little longer. Nuru seemed a bit morose, but Hadhi’s mind was far away. Nuru’s hair was still in the braids with the threads and beads adorning it, but now it all hung loose down her back. Hadhi gathered the braids around her face, twisting to pull the underneath ones up and make little rolls on either side of her sister’s face. Then she pulled it all together at the back of Nuru’s head, making a little bursting twist, enjoying the variation she could give Nuru’s hair, unlike her own, which was styled exactly the same as last night. As she worked, Hadhi trained her ears on the other room; every once in a while she caught a few words.
“I couldn’t risk missing you in the circus of this ball,” Noam said, and Hadhi smiled. What on earth was a circus?
“Why are you smiling?” Nuru asked, and Hadhi could not answer, embarrassed to have been caught. “Mzaa says if Asha marries the prince instead of you, we’ll have to live here, forever.”
Oh. What had Nuru been saying about Asha? “This is not such a terrible place, Nuru.”
“We’ll never be married.” Nuru sounded confused, maybe probing.
“Since when do you even care?” Hadhi rolled her eyes. She was not used to her sister listening to much their mother said, but if there was one thing you could count on from Nuru, it was melodrama. “All you want to do is dance.”
“I want to marry.” Nuru shrugged, looking at her feet. “Just not yet. And not to the prince.”
“And you think I want to marry him?” Hadhi demanded, so quickly were her ugly insides set ablaze with resentment. Nuru could brush aside duty so easily, just like Asha. A trait they inherited from their father.
And what have you inherited, monster?
Hadhi fought a shiver as her father’s voice raced across her nerve endings. Fought the urge to glance around for his ghost. Somedays, his voice just seemed so real. And that man, Kane, he unnerved her. He spoke with her father’s words. He felt like another of Baba’s tests—or his punishments.
He was an axe, hovering over her head, waiting to fall until she was at her happiest. That was always when Baba struck.
“I don’t think you care one way or another who you marry,” Nuru said at last, gazing at Hadhi as though it had never occurred to her that her sister possessed feelings. “You look on all men the same.”
Hadhi flinched. She could no longer hear voices in the other room. She spun around and marched up the stairs and out the back of the empty house. She walked towards the bathing hut; Mzaa would never allow strange men near there. Hadhi could hear them all around the front of the house, where the kitchen was, facing Jaccada. So she walked away from the voices moving behind the bathing hut where she would be blocked from them and staring off into Ether.
You look at all men the same.
What way was that? Hadhi never had a boy care about her or one that she cared for over all others. Did that mean she never could? Hadhi was being unfair to her sister. Until yesterday Hadhi had not wanted any man. How was Nuru supposed to know what had changed inside her sister if Hadhi did not share it. Before yesterday just the idea of a man touching her made Hadhi ill and angry. So she had looked at them all the same. She looked at them with contempt, or maybe...fear.
But why was that not reason enough to exempt Hadhi from marrying the prince? Like Nuru was exempted by age and Asha—
“Here you are?”
Every nerve, every thread of air, every bit of Hadhi softened and swayed at the sound of his voice. Her rage shuddered into pleasure, and she smiled in spite of herself as tears gathered in her eyes. She looked at him differently.
“What is a circus?” She asked, with her back to him. Noam’s hand came down slowly onto her left shoulder.
Her breath caught; she loved the feel of his hand on her bare shoulder. It was the strangest thing. As long as she could remember, she had hated being touched, most especially being touched without seeing it coming. But her body curled up in the feeling of him and wanted to go on feeling it. She wanted— and it was glorious torture.
She turned and found a wide smile on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He had such a lovely face, so kind.
Not like hers.
“There’s that look again,” he whispered. “I kept seeing it last night, every time you were on the verge of that surrender we discussed.” His free hand rose to rub the spot between her eyes softly. “It’s as though you go somewhere else whenever you’re about to be happy.”
“To be happy would be to go somewhere else,” Hadhi said honestly. She would never be happy; she had known it since Baba died. He had died and left all of them just as ugly as ever, and Hadhi hated herself even more than she had before.
“So sad, Hadhi?” His finger traced the bones of Hadhi’s face until her eyes drifted shut. “It won’t do, not for someone so beautiful.”
At this Hadhi’s eyes popped open as she was overcome with laughter.
“There’s the smile I was after.” Noam’s voice was light and playful as his hand left her face, but there was something else in his eyes, something like anger or frustration. He blinked and it was gone. “A circus is something spectacular,” he said. But Hadhi was not listening; she was looking for that expression again. “We never had them in Glen Harrow; they were considered dangerous. I saw one for the first time on Gods Parted. It’s a spectacle with music and dancing, impressive feats, and exotic animals, and all sorts of magic.”
Hadhi smirked, goading him, trying to see another flash of his hidden self. “Exotic like here?”
Noam laughed, and his hand slipped away. Her shoulder met the air and she shivered for the loss of his warmth. “I suppose so. What do you find spectacular?”
You.
She could not say that, so she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “Ether.”
“The vast desert that swallows up all who enter it?” He asked with a brow in the air.
Hadhi walked by him towards the dunes, moving close enough to brush his arm and feel the rush of power between them. “No one has ever returned from it.” Her voice tickled her throat with excitement from being this near to Noam. “They could be dead. Or in the next life. Or,” she looked over her shoulder, her eyes alight with excitement. “Maybe she freed them. Maybe they are happy.”
Noam held her eyes and Hadhi felt the warmth of it rushing through her, as though he was holding her in his arms. She froze, waiting, hoping. But neither of them moved, their gazes alone touching each other.
“Hadhi!” Mzaa’s impatient voice sounded from the kitchen area, snapping Hadhi free from the spell of his eyes and sucking the excitement right out of her. Hadhi nodded and made to walk around him, but he caught her arm as she passed.
“It’s working,” He didn’t meet her eyes as he spoke, but that easy smile was back on his face. His false smile, she realized with a tingle of joy. “Azize and his father are mystified by you.”
“Yes,” Hadhi laughed. “By my gall. But it is the mystery woman whose foot he seeks.”
“Hadhi, come on, we need to leave,” Nuru called out. “The men have offered us their camels.” She added like an enticement.
Hadhi smiled, raising a brow at Noam. It was surely his idea. He shrugged, releasing her elbow and redirecting the conversation. “Azize has sworn to consider every woman who fits the shoe, not a specific one. All we need to do is be sure your foot fits and keep you very much in his mind. You can still have your prince.”
Hadhi said nothing because she wanted to ask the way to win him instead of his friend.
She did not want a prince, or an adventure, or anything but these quiet, far away moments with Noam. Where she could just look at him and feel entirely new. Where she could stand next to him and pretend she was in a different world.
He was wearing what must be his own clothes today, in place of long silk robes that reached the calves and soft, loose leg coverings beneath; he wore a short tunic, loose and barely adorned, with holes and cord tying the neck area closed. It barely reached past his waist, leaving the whole of his legs visible with closely worn leg coverings. Nothing about it was decorative in the least, the colors were dull shades of brown, yet Hadhi could not decide in which attire she liked him better. In the silks he looked fine, and important, and the vibrant purple threads had highlighted the depth in his brown eyes. In these plain clothes he looked like a man of labor, and...he alone was the decoration. It was intriguing to see so much of his physique so plainly. Her eyes kept drifting to his legs without intent.
“When they try the shoe on you allow it, grudgingly, as though you are not interested in marrying Azize. Later, when he has to dance with you, talk about something other than him.”
“You cannot know my foot will fit.” Hadhi pointed out quietly. Forcing her eyes back to his face, as they’d drifted again. He did not want this to work, did he? But he was helping her. It was wonderful. And it was torture.
“I have seen it; your foot is near enough in size.” He bent his head to examine her feet. Hadhi smiled at the crown of his head. He was lovely. “If the slipper is a bit small, curl your toes. If it is loose stretch them out.” Noam straightened, still smiling.
Before Hadhi could think any better of it she stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his smile. It was over in seconds, the meeting of their lips. Hadhi settled back onto her heels, having stolen his smile, his expression blank where hers beamed. She tingled all over, feeling light enough to float off the ground like a bird.
“Do not smile so much,” Hadhi said, unable to banish his stolen smile from her own lips. “You are beautiful, even when you do not smile.” Szo quri. Her mind added, but her tongue was too shy to voice what she felt for him: desire. This was desire. He was her desire.
His eyes widened, and his lips jerked to speak.
“Hadhi, your mzaa is getting...” Asha’s voice trailed away.
Hadhi startled, tearing her eyes away from Noam. She wanted to hide him before he could lay eyes on Asha and love her. Everyone loved Asha. She would turn his head, and this would all be over.
“Oh, hello. What a pleasant surprise,” Asha greeted him cheerfully, as though they knew one another. Hadhi wanted to shove Asha back into the hut, or into the dirt or anywhere to keep her away from Noam, but she didn’t move. Frozen between them, waiting for the axe to fall. “I didn’t realize we had more guests. But that makes sense of the five camels we were offered.”
Noam smiled easily with his head cocked to the side. “I could swear we have never met. Yet you seem familiar.”
“Oh,” Asha had the decency to glance away shyly at her overly forward greeting. Hadhi ground her teeth. “Yes, I do have that effect on one. I’m a bit too familiar with everyone.”
Noam raised an eyebrow and looked ready to laugh. “Do I have the right of it? Am I at last in the presence of the infamous Asha?”
“Infamous?” Asha looked at Hadhi smugly. “What bad have you to say of me, Hadhi?”
Hadhi bit her tongue to hold back the rage and the tears. Plenty, she had plenty of bad to speak of her half-sister, and she had not told Noam half of it. Her head began to pound with rage.
“I am hardly the cause of your sour face,” Asha said it so lightly, as though it was an endearment fondly used. Hadhi felt Noam’s mouth open, felt him stretching out to...what? Defend her? Laugh? She could not stand to see.
“Sorry to disappoint you, sister." Hadhi bit out the word like it was a curse, because when she spoke of Asha, it was. No matter how she tried to change that. “But your...infamy comes from the prince. And is all of your own making.”
Hadhi was so angry she could barely see straight, she swept past Asha and around the house without glancing back.
To be happy— would be to go somewhere else.