She swallowed, eyeing the men who led her along through the halls of the palace. She sighed and tried to steady herself as they approached a pair of ornate doors. Two guards opened them and they escorted her inside, leading her to the throne itself.
Doors opened to the side and one of the men forced her to kneel. She did, seeing a man in golden clothing approach to sit on the throne, an older woman sitting on the one to his side. She tried not to stiffen as another man joined them, followed by a group of women hardly wearing anything at all.
"Leave us," one of the men commanded.
The men who escorted her in bowed and left, closing the doors behind them.
"And who are you to request an audience with the Shah of Persia?" the man asked her.
"Adellade, monsieur," she whispered. "My name is Adellade."
The man turned to the Shah and they exchanged a few words in a foreign tongue.
"And how old are you, Adellade?" the man asked.
"Eighteen."
"And from where do you come?"
"Originally France, though I have been living in England for a few years now."
"And why did you leave?"
"The inn my mother oversaw. Some bandits came through-took the money and-and killed her. I fled, found the first ship away from there as soon as I could, and I left."
"What did you do at this inn?"
"I was a serving girl."
"A pretty thing such as yourself?"
"She-she didn't want me to-to work with the other girls. I was-I was too young."
The man turned back to the Shah and he nodded. He turned to her and sighed. "Very well. Come with me."
He walked over to her and she stood, being led out of the throne room. He showed her to a smaller room.
"You will sleep here for the night," he informed her. "Before you begin."
"Begin what, monsieur?" she asked.
He sighed. "You are to be presented to the Shah's own personal assassin as a gift. The Shah believes that he will enjoy you, as you are from his original home. However, I would treat this night as your last. The previous one, he refused, and the Shah had her killed."
He closed the door behind her.
She swallowed and ran over to the small window, grabbing at the bars. "Might I at least know your name? If I am to only see the face of an assassin?" she called out after him.
"My dear girl: if you see his face, you will die." He chuckled and gave a curt nod. "You may call me Nadir. I suggest you do your best to impress him-you'll only have one chance."
"Thank you, Nadir." She paused. "Does the Shah employ any architects? Any specifically from England?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I didn't come here without a reason. My mother-she said the last thing my brother mentioned before he left was something about Persia. That he talked specifically about the courts of Persia. My brother-he used to build things, only he impressed his employers with his designs on a few occasions, and I thought that one might have employed him here."
"I do not know the architects themselves. The Shah's assassin might know of one-I can ask him to pass along a message, though I doubt that it will be received."
"You don't have to ask him to say anything." She undid the locket from around her neck and held it out for him. "Just ask him to show them this-my brother-he'll remember it. He has to. It was-it was the last thing he ever gave me before he left. Please, Nadir? It's important to me. I-I never knew what happened to him after-after he left."
He paused and sighed walking over to her to take the locket from her. "I cannot promise you anything of him, but I will give this to him for you."
"Thank you, Nadir. You've no idea how important this is to me."
"Sleep well, Adellade. I expect you'll need it."
Nadir walked down the halls, the locket in his coat pocket weighing much heavier than it should. He knocked at the door before entering. The man turned to him, looking as strange as ever in his dark robe and white mask. The Shah's own Angel of Doom.
"What is it, Daroga?" he asked, going to sit at the piano to write something out on a sheet of music. "Some prisoner the Shah wishes me to kill for him?"
"No. The Shah has found you a new gift. Specifically one of French origin."
"You know how I think of that! Send her away!"
"She made a request of me."
"Must you befriend every woman who passes through those gates?"
"She asked that I give this to you." He took out the locket. "That it be passed onto one of the architects she is certain of will be her brother."
"Which one?"
"She only asked that you show this to them. She was determined that her brother would know it once he saw the thing."
"I am no messenger! Especially not for a girl!"
He sighed and set it on the piano in front of him. "You may be an assassin, but I know you have more honor in you than to ignore the wish of a dying girl."
"She is not-"
"You refuse her, she will die." He sighed and turned to the door. "I'll bring her by tomorrow for you to decide yourself. If anything, at least tolerate her until she can find her brother. She seemed very concerned about him, and she is rather pretty indeed."
"Her name, Daroga?"
"I believe it was Adellade."
She ran her fingers through her hair, frowning at it, trying to get it to straighten. She shivered, not being accustomed to having so much skin exposed at once. The heavy jewelry clanged on her wrists and neck, making things seem worse.
The door opened and she straightened. "Nadir. How-how do I look?"
"Appearances have rarely been a concern of his." He nodded for her to join him. "You look well for not being accustomed to something such as that. Come he is in his chambers."
She followed him. "Can you tell me what he is like? The Shah's assassin?"
"I'm afraid I cannot explain him easily in words. He does many things for the Shah other than being his assassin."
"Such as being an architect?" she guessed.
"As well as a magician and musician, though the last one is more for himself. I presume you saw the construction site when you arrived in Persia? He designed it himself. The Palace of Mazenderan."
"He designed that?" she gaped. "It was marvelous! Every bit of it that I could see, at least!" She frowned. "Why did he refuse the last one?"
"He is a strange man in his ways. He prefers to remain alone and secluded in his chambers when he does not have work to occupy himself with."
"You seem to know him well."
"I oversaw his work when he first came to us. I taught him how to speak Persian, and in exchange, he taught me to speak his native tongue." He came to a stop in front of a pair of doors. "Here we are. I wish you luck, Adellade."
"Thank you, Nadir."
He smiled slightly. "And I did uphold my promise to you. He has the locket, though whether he will present it to your brother…."
She put a hand on his arm. "You did what you could. Thank you."
He nodded and took her hand, gently kissing it. "Good luck, and may Allah be with you."
She sighed and opened the doors, closing them behind her as she entered. The sight of the rooms was something she hadn't been expecting. They were moderately furnished with a kitchen to one side, a door that presumably led to his bedchamber on the other. In front of her was a couch, table, and a piano of all things.
"Sit," a voice instructed.
She blinked and went to the couch, taking a seat. She saw him then, sitting on the piano bench, his dark robes causing him to blend in, the white mask he wore the only thing that identified him. He held the locket in his hand, dangling it in front of him as he sat.
"You might be capable of imagining my surprise when the Daroga told me that you wished to give this to your brother, whom you believe to be here in Persia," he began.
"Yes. I did."
He stood, towering over her, making her feel smaller. "And why do you believe he will recognize such a trinket?"
"He gave it to me-before he left. It's the only thing I have of him. Please, monsieur. I only wanted to know what became of him."
He took the locket in his hand. "I am not a messenger boy."
"I only wanted to know what became of him. Please. He's the only family I have."
"What of your parents? Your mother?"
"I had a mother once. Some bandits came, destroyed the inn she owned, and she died in the process. I was only able to flee the place as quickly as I could before they killed me as well."
"And what makes you so certain that he is here?"
"Our mother-she spoke of a man from Persia-that he had said something about the courts of Persia, that she believed that was the reason he left. I-I miss him. He's my family. Haven't you ever had a family, monsieur? Someone you loved? Someone who loved you?" She sighed and curled herself up, closing her eyes as she did so. "Why do I even bother? Why should you care? You're only going to send me away, and then the Shah will kill me, and I'll never know what became of him."
Silence passed between them before he spoke.
"There was once a devil who looked at the world through a crack in a window. He hated himself, believed himself to be a monster. He told himself that he was one, and that no one could love him. He remained hidden for several years, only looking at the people through that crack in a window.
"Then someone came along and found him. He thought to himself 'how can someone as kind and beautiful as this love someone like me?' However, she did, and she loved him. He took her away with him, wishing to make her happy, only to have her be hurt-because he loved her. He hid her away, turned his back and left her far behind."
He walked over to her and placed the locket in her hands.
"He left her a simple thing in memory of their time together," he continued. "He never saw her again until the day came when she turned up on his doorstep one morning. Imagine his surprise when he found her, only to recall what he had done-what she must've heard about him. He had killed a man once before her, and he recalled the expression she had looked at him with, as if she were finally seeing the monster he believed himself to be. He found himself with a problem: he did not want to hurt her with the knowledge of what he had done, yet if he did not, then she would die by his hand."
"What did he do?" she asked.
"That is the question, isn't it?" he whispered. "I-have killed people here, built things to kill them. I am the Shah's own assassin who entertains him by killing. I have crafted him a palace-one where a single person will not be able to say a word without it being echoed or overheard. I don't simply have blood on my hands-I am quite possibly drowning in it myself, and when I don't wish to drown, I ask the Shah for a drug and he gives it to me, numbing every act I do-every murder I commit. But this? This I do not know how to do."
"The name? Of the devil in your story?"
He sighed and removed his mask, his eyes meeting hers. "Erik Destler."
"Then let me stay. I've stayed before, what difference will it make?"
"Persia itself is different. If I accept the Shah's gift to me, then worse will come to you, I am certain of it. If I deny, then it is your death, and I may as well be the one to wield the knife that will end your life. I do not know if this story will soon have an end, and I do not know what choice he will make." He looked at her. "You asked me if I had a family. If I had someone I loved. I do. Only I find myself knowing what the mercy may be, yet I am too selfish of a man to give you that mercy."
"Refuse me, and send me to my death?" she whispered. "That is your mercy?"
"Yes. The gypsies-they hurt you before because it hurt me. The Shah is not a forgiving man. He will use you. I do not want to be cause of your pain, Adellade. Not again."
"If I die now, and the Shah is as unforgiving as you claim, then my death will not be a swift one. If you accept, I have time. I've spent two years apart from you-did you honestly believe I would spend another moment forced away?"
He swallowed and held a hand up to her face. "How is it indeed that one such as yourself can love a devil and a monster?"
"I have seen monsters and devils alike. I can promise you they look the same as any other human I've known."
He wrapped his arms around her and she returned the embrace. "You are not afraid nor upset with your Erik for what he has done?"
"You only upset me when you left without a goodbye."
"I did not want you following me. I already knew it would be dangerous for you to follow."
She smiled. "I suppose you did what was best, then. I most certainly would've followed you. Too stubborn to let you leave me behind even if it is for my own good."