A/N I hope you'll enjoy my new story! Updates will be on Fridays. Also, a gentle warning that it will contain explicit content from Chapter 9 onwards ;)
Tamina stood with her back to her council, listening to them debate their concerns about her marriage to Prince Dastan, to the Persian Empire. They'd already discussed the risks at length - giving Persia the excuse to impose a protectorate, making Alamut a puppet state. Or this young princeling assuming he could wrest power from her to claim a kingdom of his own. An insignificant realm, but a wealthy one. There'd been other high-born men who had tried it. They finally agreed that a strongly worded marriage contract and a separate treaty should be enough to safeguard Alamut in law.
"Highness." Ikram, the head of the council, brought her attention back to the meeting. "They await your answer. Persia is being apologetic at the moment, but after they leave, we become only one of many tiny allied states vying for their attention. Friendship and treaty alone will not bind Persia to us."
"But marriage will," she said grimly. "Marriage to a prince who was not born, but made noble." And she wondered, A man touched by destiny?
One of the others added, "We have spoken to some of the Persians. Even though he is not related by blood and holds no place in the line of succession, Prince Dastan is seen to be a true son of King Sharaman and has a strong fraternal bond with his brothers. Also, he has no other wives. As first wife, Princess Tamina will have some control over who he, or his king, chooses after her."
She rubbed absently at the headache forming at her temple. When the meeting began several hours ago, Tamina believed she still had the freedom to accept Prince Dastan's proposal... or not. But as the debate dragged on, one stark fact rose above all else: Alamut's impenetrable wall had been breached for the first time in a thousand years. The city was now fair game to any other king, despot, or warlord who was greedy for their fabled riches. They needed this alliance with the strongest power in the region.
She thought of her bewildering conversation with Dastan that morning after he'd so nervously presented the dagger to her with such unexpected modesty, eyes sincere and astonishingly blue. When he had charmed, provoked, and yes, mocked her, in the span of a few minutes. How his words seemed to convey a deeper meaning.
And the moment he offered his hand in symbolic proposal, the way he looked at her. He saw her. She was afraid to even acknowledge the promise in his eyes, to name the tender emotion on his face. Because it couldn't be... how could it be?
Tamina sighed. She must wed eventually to fulfill her duty to the yet unbroken line of succession. She should be pleased such a suitable and, dare she admit, attractive man practically fell into her lap.
But she felt deeply uneasy, sensing that Prince Dastan was a danger to her carefully maintained equanimity. She cringed at the way she'd softened under his warm gaze. How his attention enticed her, made her reckless enough to accept him so thoughtlessly.
Tamina knew what she must do even though she stood there trying to think of a way out. She wasn't ready to capitulate.
She finally turned back to the men waiting for her to speak.
"Before we make an official commitment, I need to know why they attacked us and what happened between the princes and their uncle. Find out what you can, we meet again tomorrow."
As Tamina left the room, a guilty but comforting thought struck her: Perhaps when King Sharaman is confronted with Alamut's requirements in a Prince Consort he will reject me like all the others. Allowing her life to continue as it was.
Dastan lurked in a dark corner of the hall waiting for her. The last few hours had given him time to think, but he was more unsure and conflicted than ever. He'd been falling from one crisis into another for what seemed like forever. Unable to take a breath before having to confront his uncle and then, unbelievably, finding himself betrothed to Tamina. Thank the Gods and his brothers!
He'd walked with her in the garden in a daze, daunted by her severe composure and dazzled by her beauty, unblemished by sun, wind, and biting sand. Painted and perfumed, perfect and untouchable.
Tell her or keep silent.
He didn't know what to do. His mind churned with possibility and risk, trying to decide on the best way to approach her, to win her heart again. He was back at the beginning in more ways than one. She doesn't trust me. If I tell her will she even believe me? Confessing his knowledge of Alamut's secrets, would she accept him as an ally again or see him as her enemy?
Dastan straightened when she left the council chambers, walking quickly. He caught a flash of the dagger still clutched in her hand as he trailed after her, down unremarkable corridors and up narrow stairs, moving upward through the palace until he found himself at the door of the High Temple.
He hesitated, watching Tamina return the dagger to its golden cage and kneeling in prayer at its feet. Incense drifted thick in the air, smoke curling through the late afternoon sun streaming in from the arched windows. She turned toward him, her expression calm and relaxed but darkening the instant she saw him.
"How did you get up here?" she spat, scowling at him. "You Persians are not welcome in our holy sanctuary!"
He couldn't help flinching and looked away. When she'd smiled so softly at him in the garden a few short hours ago, Dastan hoped she might be more open, to give him a chance. But her lovely brown eyes were cold and wary. He threw her a sidelong glance, considering his answer. He hated that he must weigh everything he said to her.
"I followed you to talk… I don't know, get to know each other better, I suppose." His gaze fell on the dagger and he unconsciously grimaced.
Tamina noticed of course and arched one of her delicate brows. The haughty disdain that drove him mad in the beginning. Until the day it became endearing instead.
The warm light made the temple shimmer with a golden glow and Tamina herself was so radiant, it almost hurt to look at her. He felt an unbearable urge to drag her to him, to hold her so tightly it would banish the agonizing memory of her slipping from his grasp into the abyss. It had just happened and despair still filled his heart. Sick with a confusion of grief, love, and desperate relief, he didn't know how he would manage to act naturally around her. Around any of them.
"You wished to speak with me?" she asked with a sharp edge of impatience.
Dastan nodded. Mastering his churning emotions, he focused on the last lingering worry that troubled his mind. The Hassansins. She needs to be protected.
Even without Nizam, they were a threat. One of them betrayed Alamut and might do so again. He would have to find some way to bring their existence to his brothers' attention. It would take all the resources at Persia's disposal to track them down.
He began to accept that remaining silent about the lost time was unwise and possibly dangerous. But still, he hesitated. He knew she wouldn't take it well.
"I… ah… wondered if I would be permitted to use a chamber near yours until… um…" his voice trailed off weakly.
"Until we wed," she concluded flatly, expression unreadable. "Why? I know your brothers remain with your army." Her pointed question jerked him out of his muddled thoughts.
Dastan didn't have a legitimate reason other than wanting to be close by to watch over her, so blurted out, "Persian tradition."
"I see," she said suspiciously.
For a brief moment, she considered offering the apartments next to hers, the rooms reserved for her future consort, but instantly decided against it. In her heart, they belonged to her father. Letting Dastan use them felt irrevocable and much too intimate.
"I'll have a guest suite made available to you. If that's all, the priesthood will be joining me shortly for our nightly ceremony."
"Will I see you this evening?" he asked, dismayed by the pathetically hopeful tone in his voice.
"I have quite a lot to do. Accommodating your presence in the city and in my home." Tamina's eyes grew hard. "Assessing the damage." She turned away dismissively. "Perhaps in a day or two."
Dastan clenched a fist in sudden anger. She's going to keep me at arm's length. Ignore me. Damned if I'll let her.
He stepped closer, close enough to touch her. She lifted her chin in defiance but at the last moment backed away, out of reach. He strode toward her, both aware that she would soon come up against the wall. He could see her considering the alternatives - duck around him and run or stand her ground. Tamina's eyes narrowed in indignation and she stopped. Just as he knew she would.
Dastan took a last step, taking her chin in his hand, gentle but insistent. His thumb swept over her cheek in a fleeting caress and she inhaled with a soft hiss of breath. Either fury or unwilling attraction, he couldn't tell.
"Avoiding me is not an option Tamina," he warned softly.
She scowled. Dastan smirked.
Arrogant ass. Even his impertinence is charming, she fumed inwardly. Her skin burned at his touch, causing her stomach to squirm. She was beginning to recognize the unsettling sensation, that it was because of him. Why does he have to be so utterly... masculine?
"Very well, Prince Dastan. My days are claimed by my duties but we may dine together now and then."
Dastan briefly gritted his teeth at the way she was forcing him to negotiate for her time and attention. But he wasn't surprised.
"Every evening meal, Princess. And I reserve the right to bother you when I feel like it." His words were demanding but he sounded amused.
Tamina jerked away from his grasp. "Fine," she muttered sullenly. "Will you go now?"
"Until tonight." Dastan gave her an exaggerated bow and left.
At least when I provoke her, she can't be indifferent.