Gifting Fire by Alina Boyden (read my book .TXT) 📕

so incurably jealous when she saw me wearing it. And the skirt was just as beautiful, though rather than being green to look like an acid zahhak’s scales, it was the deep sapphire of their tail feathers, carefully embroidered with turquoise eyes in a ring around the skirt’s wide hem, the shisheh mirror-work making the fabric sparkle in the bright sunlight.

“This embroidery style is traditional in Mahisagar,” Asma explained as she took the skirt out of the box, holding it up for me to admire.

“It’s magnificent,” I whispered, not even having to pretend to be impressed by it, in spite of who it was who had given it to me.

“He included jewelry, of course,” Asma said, “as it seems that your little sister has taken yours.”

I smiled at that. “It meant more to her than it did to me. But this I’ll treasure.”

A handmaiden opened a jewelry box, revealing bangles for my wrists and ankles, each one crafted from pure gold that had been cut and inset with sapphire and emerald cloisonné to form perfect tiny replicas of acid zahhaks chasing their own tail feathers. It wasn’t the most creative of gifts, as I’d received similar jewelry from Arjun, but the workmanship of these pieces was exquisite—the equal of anything any princess in all the world owned.

There were matching earrings, of course, and a tall necklace that resembled a coiled acid zahhak twisting itself around my neck. The dupatta that went over my head was the larger style popular in Zindh and Mahisagar, but the fabric was the brilliant blue of lightning, marred by dark black stripes, just like an acid zahhak’s mane. It was a detail that the tailors in Bikampur had missed when Arjun had dressed me up as an acid zahhak to draw Karim’s eye. Just remembering that day made me wish I’d refused the clothes. Maybe if I hadn’t worn them then, I wouldn’t be sitting here now.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I said, offering Asma a demure smile. “Your son is too good to me.”

“He wants to make you happy,” Asma replied, sounding like she really believed that, which made one of us.

“And I hope I can make him happy too,” I lied.

That earned me a look of approval. Asma patted my cheek. “Karim adores you. He’s so happy that you’ve agreed to become his bride. And you two are going to have so many wonderful children together. I know that you’re not fertile yourself, but I’ve seen the way you are with Lakshmi. You’ll make a wonderful mother for my grandchildren.”

“With you advising me, I don’t think it could be otherwise,” I said, wondering if I sounded too dutiful and submissive even for a simpering dolt like Asma.

Her cheeks flushed with genuine pleasure, proving that she really was as simple as I thought. She wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in the zenana in Nizam, but I supposed Ahmed Shah liked his women dumb and tame.

“Well, let’s get you out of those clothes and into these new ones,” Asma suggested.

“Now?” I asked. “Is there some special occasion?”

“No, but I think it would please Karim to see you wearing the clothes he commissioned for you,” Asma said, leaving me to decide whether or not pleasing Karim was something I wanted to do.

“In that case, lead on, mother-in-law,” I replied, standing up alongside her.

“I thought that might be your answer.” There was something smug in her smile, though I supposed it was just because she thought I had submitted to Karim’s rule over me. Wouldn’t she be surprised when I destroyed them all?

Asma led me to my bedchamber, her servitors following close behind. I let them dress me in my new acid zahhak attire, and I had to admit that I liked the way I looked in it. But as beautiful as the clothes were, the fact that they came from Karim meant that they would always remind me of him, even when all this was said and done. Maybe I’d let Padmini burn them to cinders once I was free again.

Soon. That was what I told myself as the handmaidens finished dressing me. Soon Haider would attack Ahura; I had to believe that. And then with Arjun and Sunil at my side, I would take Kadiro. Once that was accomplished, I would kill Ahmed and Karim, take their lands from them, and dare my father to do something about it. But that day wasn’t today. Today I had to be Karim’s blushing bride no matter how much I longed to stand up to him.

As if to remind me of that fact, Karim arrived at the doorway to my bedchamber. For days now, I’d let him touch me, let him kiss me, though I was grateful it had gone no further than that. I thought I was gradually winning him over, and I needed to keep that up. I needed to remain above suspicion if I was going to be free to act when the time came. So I smiled at him, as if I were pleased to see him, and said, “Thank you for the lovely gifts, your highness.”

Karim stared at me for a long moment, his eyes roving over every inch of my body in a way that made me feel like I was wearing nothing at all. He strode across my bedchamber and put his arms around me, leaning his face low, so that our noses were practically touching. I was grateful for all the training I’d had in Bikampur as a courtesan, because it kept me from flinching or showing my disgust.

“You look exquisite,” he said.

“Thank you, your highness,” I replied, keeping my gaze downcast, looking up at him only through kohl-darkened lashes, just as Ammi had trained me to do. The men in Bikampur had always found it irresistible, and Karim was no different.

He rubbed my arms through the thin silk of my new blouse and seemed on the point of kissing me when he remembered that his mother was present. He turned his attention