Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“You’re not ugly,” I had insisted. “They’re the ugly ones.”
But Bertha had only laughed, kissing me on my cheek. “That’s because you love us, and anything seen through eyes of love is beautiful.”
I wasn’t different in the ways of the others, but the ones who watched called me names too, lewd calls that would make me bury my head in Zakai’s shoulder and pretend not to hear.
“But don’t you worry about any of them,” Bertha told me. “They’re nothing to us. We have each other.”
However, when Berel arrived, all of that changed. It was no longer us against them, as now there was another enemy in our midst. I had begun to care very much for Ahmad, and of course, for the sweet, gentle Bibi who could even illicit a smile from the bodyguards on occasion. But when I expressed my sorrow over his injuries, and what he was enduring, he narrowed his eyes and said, “Your heart’s too soft. It’s not a strength. They’ve done you a disservice by making you weak.”
Wounded, I’d turned away, my throat tight as I’d focused back on the words.
CHAPTER FIVE
I thought about Ahmad’s situation late into the night, even after Zakai’s musky sweat had cooled on my skin and the throbbing pleasure he’d brought me had faded to a dull, sweet sense of satisfaction. The next day I awoke early, braiding my hair quickly, wrapping my tunic around my body and tiptoeing outside into the dry blast of morning heat.
Haziq was in his office, a cup of tea in front of him, a math machine on his desk, as he poked at the buttons and jotted calculations in a book, the gleeful expression on his face telling me he was pleased with whatever stories the numbers told.
I stood in his doorway for a moment, waiting to be noticed. My heart beat harshly. I’d never spoken to Haziq alone before. Zakai had always done our bidding, and as I’d recently learned, sometimes his own. But, unbeknownst to Zakai, Ahmad was doing me a kindness, and because of it, it was my obligation to speak up for him now. Plus, I, not Zakai, had a close-up view of Ahmad’s pain. Other than our lessons, the little man stayed out of sight, nursing his wounds in private.
I cleared my throat and Haziq looked up, the surprise in his expression morphing to interest when he saw me. “Karys.” He leaned back in his chair. “What do you want?”
I entered hesitantly. I wanted to stand in front of Haziq the way I’d seen Zakai do—legs spread, arms loose, shoulders squared, but I was not Zakai, and so I laced my hands in front of me, making my shoulders small as I looked up at Haziq from beneath my lashes.
“I’m here on behalf of Ahmad,” I said softly.
Haziq frowned. “Ahmad. What is it you want with him?”
I swallowed as my eyes welled up. “Berel hurts him,” I said. “He makes him bleed.”
His sudden burst of laughter startled me. “Is that all?”
“Is that all?” I repeated. “He’s family,” I said. “And he hates what’s happening to him.”
“He’s told you this?”
I shook my head. “N-no. But I hear his yelps of pain. I see . . . that he’s injured. And it has to be stopped.”
Haziq’s eyes narrowed, he tapped his pen on the edge of the desk as he regarded me. It appeared he was both on the edge of laughter and of anger, and I held my breath as I waited to find which one he’d choose. “It’s entertaining,” he said. “It pleases the guests. Now, go pick a rose from the garden and put it behind your ear. You look lovely that way. Eat some dates. Rest in the sun. It’s a lovely day.”
Anger whipped through me, an unfamiliar emotion that Zakai usually plucked from my grasp like a poisoned flower I’d only begun to inhale. But Zakai wasn’t here now. The anger was mine and I found I liked it. Whereas fear had made me vulnerable, anger felt like a weapon, one I was ready to wield. “I demand you stop it,” I said.
A muscle in Haziq’s cheek jumped and his face grew dark. His eyes narrowed as he reached up to stroke his mustache. “You think you have power here on Sundara, little girl? You think I take suggestions from you?” His laughter was his weapon of choice and as intended, it cut me. The temporary power I’d held floated uselessly to the floor. “They’ve turned you into a little fool, haven’t they?” he hissed. “A pretty face and an empty head.”
His words pricked me too, but I was here for Ahmad and I refused to be dissuaded by my own hurt feelings. “Please,” I tried another tack. “Protect Ahmad from Berel. You are a caring and generous man we all honor and respect greatly,” I lied, knowing Zakai hated the man with the burning light of a thousand suns, and the rest of my family looked on him as a hard-shelled cockroach too big to crush under a rock.