“What secret?” Rudjek asks from behind.
I whirl around and he’s standing there scratching his head as he looks between Sukar and me. He doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands, which he usually rests on the hilts of his shotels. No fancy swords tonight, but fancy everything else.
I cough. “I’m surprised you were able to tear yourself away from your adoring fans.”
“I’m not the only one with adoring fans,” Rudjek says.
His accusation makes me blush, but before I can protest, he turns his winning smile on Sukar. “I want to know this secret too.”
Oh, there’s a secret, but it’s not what either of them might think. I blow out a loud breath, annoyed by this whole conversation. “There is no secret,” I lie, exhausted.
Rudjek clears his throat. “I need to talk to Arrah alone.”
Sukar remains slouched on the bench to spite him.
Rudjek gestures for me to follow him instead. We go deeper into the gardens, stopping beside a pond of blue fish that glow in the dark. “I thought I’d never get away.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Be glad girls don’t have to go through that.”
I cross my arms. “Such a hardship, I’m sure.”
“You’re mad at me.” Rudjek glances to his hands. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t talk my father out of the dancers. He insisted it was tradition.”
I step back from him when I want nothing more than to sink into his arms. I need him to quell my growing sense that something bad is about to happen. “It’s a ridiculous tradition.” My voice falters as the magic tingles in my chest again.
“I know.” Rudjek steps closer and his sweet scent tangles in my nose.
“You didn’t have to look like you were enjoying it so much,” I say, even though he had looked no such thing.
He moves closer and I hold my ground. “Are you jealous?”
I shake my head and purse my lips, my mind everywhere but where I am now. I can’t give in to my mother’s magic. If I keep resisting it, I can at least postpone her plans until I find a way around the curse. “Why would I be jealous?”
“What if I told you that I was jealous when I saw you with Sukar?”
Another step closer and warmth spreads through my chest—not the curse, but something else. Something that feels nice amidst so much uncertainty. “But you weren’t jealous when I was talking to Majka?”
“You wouldn’t offer Majka tea,” Rudjek says, his words a low hum that snap my attention back to the moment, back to him.
I cock my head. “How can you be so sure?”
“Would you offer me tea?” Rudjek asks, a sly grin on his lips, his perfect lips. Have they always been so beautiful? How can I be thinking about him like this, right now? I know it’s because I don’t want to think about my mother and all the awful things she’s done. I want to lose myself in the depths of his dark eyes and pretend everything is okay.
“Yes,” I answer, my heart fluttering like butterfly wings. “I would.”
“Arrah.” Rudjek breathes my name and it’s music to my ears. We’re far from the celebration. Far from prying eyes. No better than Majka and his dancer. “I should’ve told you a long time ago how I felt.”
I close the small gap left between us. “I could’ve said something too.”
Rudjek reaches up to caress my cheek and I lean closer, staring into eyes that mirror the ache inside me. A feeling of foreboding shadows the moment. There’s still so much uncertainty between us, so much left unsaid. So many secrets and missed opportunities and wasted time. Had we been braver before now, put our families’ feud aside and let our hearts decide, where would that have led? It’s a question that I’m finally ready to lay to rest.
After tonight, there may not be another chance, so I let myself fall into his bewitching gaze. He lowers his face to mine and I press mine up to his. Our breaths intertwine as we lean in for a kiss. The kiss I’ve dreamed about a thousand times. Sparks of warmth set my body aflame. But just as his lips are about to brush mine, his scent pulling at my heartstrings, he jerks away.
“Have you lost your mind, boy?” the Vizier hisses, his hand clutching Rudjek’s shoulder.
“Twenty-gods.” Rudjek pulls away from his father. “Are you spying on me?”
The Vizier is even more imposing in a black elara than in his usual white, and twice as menacing. “I’ve invited important families from across the Kingdom here to meet you tonight.” He cuts his eyes at me. “And you’re hiding in the gardens, taking liberties with a girl.”
Rudjek frowns. “In case you haven’t realized it yet, Arrah is—”
“She is my enemy’s daughter,” the Vizier barks at him, “and off-limits to you.”
I ball my hands into fists as anger prickles across my skin. I can’t stand to look at the Vizier after the awful things he’s done to my mother and let happen under his watch. I may not be able to talk ill of Arti, but her curse won’t mind if I give him a piece of my mind. “How dare you—” I start to say, when a hand clamps down on my shoulder too. It’s my father.
“It’s time to go,” Oshhe announces, his face blank. “We’re needed.”
The words echo in my mind as the magic wakes. This time the call is stronger—much stronger than it’s been all night. I dig my heels in to resist, trying to root myself in the gardens. I grit my teeth until my jaw aches, but none of it does any good. In the end, I can’t resist my mother’s call. Even if I could, Oshhe would drag me away kicking and screaming. I look to Rudjek, helpless, as he and his father glare at each other. “You have no say in my affairs.” He spits on the ground.
“Don’t I?” the Vizier bites back.
Arrogance twists the Vizier’s face into a conniving smile. I want to shake some sense into him, but it’s useless. The bad blood between the Vizier and my family is too great to overcome. When he sees me, he must remember the girl he accused of bewitching his best friend. A girl robbed of her innocence. If only he knew the true monster she’s become—and his part in helping to create her.
I back away, the curse’s invisible chains drawing me to Arti. I fight it every step, pushing my will against it, but my legs don’t falter. The magic wears me down and fatigue washes out the last of my resistance.
“Arrah, wait!” Rudjek calls as I turn my back to him.
A flicker of defiance sweeps across my shoulders, but I keep walking.
Arti’s plan is unfolding tonight and the worst is yet to come.
Eighteen
Oshhe and I trudge up the precipice slick with dew toward the Almighty Temple. The first morning bells toll, the chimes vibrating in my bones. We’d been at Rudjek’s ceremony all night, and now it’s near the hour of ösana—when magic is at its most potent. My father hasn’t said a word since we left the Vizier’s estate. Once Arti summoned us, the little that remained of him faded away. He’s like the stories of the ndzumbi, no control over himself, no agency. He lives and breathes for her.
“There has to be a way to break our curses.” I wrap my fingers around my father’s. His hand is cold. “You’d know how if you had your right mind.”