The corridor was quieter than she remembered.
Aneesa moved quickly, her slippers nearly silent against the tile, the scroll still warm in her hand. She purposely avoided the librarian's attention so as to not be followed by an escort. The prince's words still echoed in her head. Sharp, amused, dismissive.
You speak boldly for a concubine.
Love, like alchemy, is mostly failure.
She hated how his voice had settled in her chest, like an ember refusing to die.
She paused at the edge of a reflecting pool and took a deep breath, letting the night calm her. The water shimmered under the moonlight, casting a ghostly light onto the stones. She meant to return directly to her chambers, but the palace had other plans for her. A breeze stirred the air, which was laced with jasmine and a softness she couldn't name.
She knelt, leaning slightly over the edge to watch the ripples in the pool.
Her face stared back at her, tired and illuminated in the silver glow of the moon.
Then the water's surface shifted.
Two amber eyes appeared in the reflection above hers.
"Did you get lost?" came his voice, low and even.
Aneesa looked up sharply, annoyed that her peace had been disturbed.
Tariq stood on the opposite side of the pool, still in his indigo robe, a book now tucked under one arm and a look of interest adorning his face.
"I didn't realize the royal library included a personal shadow," she said.
"You lingered longer than I expected. That book must've been riveting."
"Not as riveting as your surveillance."
His mouth lifted slightly. "You surprise me."
"Is that meant to be praise?"
"It's meant to be rare."
She stood slowly. The moonlight struck her veil, casting a soft glow around her face. Tariq stepped closer, only a pace, and stopped at the edge of the water, their reflections nearly touching.
"Aren't you afraid?" he asked quietly.
"Of what?"
"The dark."
"No," she said, holding his gaze. "Are you?"
"I am," he said. "Some things only come alive when the lights are out."
The air between them grew still.
She noticed then how his gaze flicked not rudely, but deliberately, from her face to her throat, then her chest, which rose and fell faster as he settled his eyes on the bare length of her arm exposed beneath the sleeve.
As if he were reading her, or trying to.
"You're bold even for a prince," she said softly.
"I didn't ask my mother to buy you, I guess I spoke of your beauty too often. If that is why you carry such hatred towards me," he replied.
His words silenced her.
She dipped her head once and turned away, the scroll held tightly to her side.
"Good night, Your Highness," she muttered as she turned her back to him to storm off, but was stopped by what seemed like a stone wall. When she looked up, Tariq stood before her. She turned to where he was and tried to make logic out of what seemed to be an impossible distance before he handed her the scroll, which must have fallen out of her hand in the collision.
"How did…"
"I hope you return to the library tomorrow."
She didn't respond as she tried to pull the scroll from his hand without success. Tariq's expression turned to annoyance as he stared directly into her eyes unflinchingly.
"You're a smart girl, so know this. My mother will never make a decision without there being something in it for her."
The hair in Aneesa's neck stood up, and her skin prickled. The Emir released the scroll and bowed as he moved out of her way. She quickly left without a wor,d but his gaze followed her like a shadow.
And part of her… didn't mind.