Something about the sly tone in her voice and the knowing smile on her face made Soraya bristle with annoyance. Even if Soraya did harbor any feeling other than curiosity for this young man, did Laleh think anything could ever come of it? Or did she want to alleviate her guilt by believing that Soraya had someone else now to fill the void of their friendship?
“I noticed him the other day during the procession,” Soraya said, trying to keep down her bitter thoughts. “I was wondering why he’s in the uniform of the azatan now when he wasn’t before.”
“A few days before we started for Golvahar, we heard reports of a div raid in a nearby village,” Laleh explained. “Sorush went himself, and one div tried to strike him from behind. But he has the simorgh’s protection, of course, so before the div could strike, a young man from the village knocked the div unconscious. For his bravery, Sorush made him one of the azatan. The induction ceremony was yesterday, and Sorush asked him to remain at Golvahar until after the wedding.”
Soraya processed Laleh’s words, but more than that, she noticed the pride in Laleh’s voice as she spoke of Sorush, the gratitude she felt for this young hero who had saved the man she loved. Though considering that Sorush had the protection of the simorgh and could not come to harm at the hands of any div, her gratitude did seem excessive to Soraya.
“Actually…,” Laleh began. She continued to stare down at the garden, but then she looked up at Soraya with determined focus, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “That was what I came here to talk to you about,” she continued in a hushed voice. “The div that tried to attack Sorush was captured alive and is being kept in the dungeon. No one is supposed to know, but I overheard Ramin and my father talking about it.”
Soraya shook her head, not understanding why Laleh was telling her this with such intensity, but then she heard the unspoken question behind Laleh’s words, and the force of it made her knees buckle, her hand gripping the roof ledge for balance.
What if this div knows how to break your curse?
She almost let out a sob—not of sadness, but of relief. Of hope. Soraya had never seen a div in the flesh before, but her own flesh was itself a constant reminder of their existence, their power, their menace. It was a div that had condemned her and determined the entire course of her life.
Wasn’t it possible, then, that a div might save her, as well?
3
Soraya opened the hidden panel into her mother’s antechamber, and she instinctively held her breath as she stepped inside the empty room. Even as a child, she had always felt ill at ease in her mother’s lushly furnished rooms. Everything here was impeccable—the gold embellishments on the furniture, the crystal and silver bowls of dates and nuts laid out on an ivory table in front of the low sofa, the rugs under her feet. Soraya held her hands stiffly at her sides, sure that if she touched anything, she would shatter this beautiful, pristine space that suited her mother so perfectly.
After thanking Laleh for telling her about the div, Soraya had come straight here to wait for her mother. She would need permission to visit the dungeon, but more than that, she wanted to see her mother’s face alight with the same hope she was feeling now. Tahmineh tried not to show the strain Soraya’s curse placed on her, but a thin line would form in the center of her forehead, growing deeper and deeper the more time she spent with her daughter. Soraya wanted to see that line smooth away.
Soraya tried to sit, but she felt too exposed, so she paced the edges of the room while waiting. When the door to the suite finally opened, she froze, wishing now that she had waited inside the walls instead. Her mother, wearing rich violet, stood at the threshold with her attendants—and they were all staring at her.
Tahmineh took control at once. She gave a small nod to Soraya, then turned to her attending ladies and dismissed them for the night. When they were gone, and the door was shut, she came toward Soraya with worried eyes, the line on her forehead beginning to appear. “Is something wrong?”
Soraya shook her head. “I have something to tell you—something that will make you happy.” She should have begun by asking her mother how she was, or some other pleasantry, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Without mentioning Laleh, she told her about the captured div, and that she wished to ask the div about her curse.
A moment passed in silence, and then another, and Soraya waited to see excitement replace the worry in her mother’s face. But instead, Tahmineh’s lips formed a thin line. Without saying a word, she turned and went to sit on the sofa, gesturing to the chair across from her. “Come sit, Soraya.”
Soraya obeyed, feeling suddenly cold. Sitting across the table from her mother, she felt like she was going to be interrogated.
And she was right—the first thing her mother said was, “How did you find out about the div?”
She began to lie and say that she had overheard it when the full implication of her mother’s question struck her. “You knew?” Soraya said, unable to keep the accusation out of her voice. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?” She hadn’t been surprised that Sorush hadn’t told her himself—they rarely saw each other, and he had all of Atashar on his shoulders, so she was probably his last concern. But her mother … Soraya would have expected to hear this news from Tahmineh before Laleh.
“I knew, but I didn’t think it concerned you,” Tahmineh answered.
“But the curse—”
“Divs are liars, Soraya. And they are dangerous. I’m not going to expose you to one of them.”
“A div can’t hurt me—especially in a dungeon.”
Tahmineh’s hands twisted the fabric of her skirt. “The danger is not always obvious. Divs can be manipulative. They can destroy you with a single word.”
“Maman, please—I’ll be so careful. Just let me talk to—”
“Soraya, this is not a discussion,” Tahmineh said, her voice growing louder. “It’s too dangerous, and you can’t trust anything the div says. I won’t allow it.”
Soraya’s cheeks went hot at her mother’s sharp tone. She knew her veins were mapping out her frustration on her face, and she couldn’t believe that her mother could sit and watch the poison spreading through her daughter and not allow her this slim chance to be free of it. Soraya shook her head, aware of the poison running through her veins, seeping from her skin, coating her tongue. “How can you say that to me when you—”
She stopped before she reached the one topic that always remained unspoken between them, but it was too late. Tahmineh’s hand stilled in her lap, and her face went ashen, as if she had truly been poisoned.
Soraya had never accused her mother of anything. She had never before said, This is my life because of you, because of a choice you made. After all, her mother had been barely more than a child herself when the div cursed her future child. Soraya had never demanded an apology for what had happened, and Tahmineh had never offered one, either. Instead there was the line on her forehead, the weight of words unspoken.
Soraya bowed her head, her anger cooling into guilt. She would have bitten out her tongue if she thought it could undo what she had almost said. Her fingers sought out the loose thread on her sleeve. There was still a part of her that wanted to tell her mother that she couldn’t accept her refusal, and that she had to speak to the div. There was a part of her that just wanted to scream.