This Woven Kingdom by Tahereh Mafi Read Free Book Online Page A

out.”
    â€œThe servant girl.”
    â€œYes, the servant girl,” Kamran said irritably. “She fled the scene when she saw me. She looked at me as if she knew me.”
    â€œForgive me, sire—but I thought you could not see her face?”
    Kamran took a sharp breath. “Perhaps you will thank me, minister, for employing you with such a task? Unless, of course, you would rather I seek your replacement.”
    Hazan’s lips twitched; he bowed. “It is a pleasure, as always, to be at your service.”
    â€œYou will tell the king I must bathe before our meeting.”
    â€œBut, sire—”
    Kamran strode away, his retreating footfalls ringing out once more through the cavernous hall. His anger had again begun to percolate, bringing with it a humidity that seemed to fog his vision, dim the sounds around him.
    It was a shame, then, that Kamran did not dissect himself. He did not stare out of windows wondering what other emotions might be lurking beneath the veneer of his ever-present anger. It did not occur to him that he might be experiencinga muddied sort of grief, so it did not strike him as unusual that he was fantasizing, just then, about driving a sword through a man’s heart. In fact, he was so consumed by his imaginings that he did not hear his mother calling his name, her bejeweled robes dragging, sapphires scoring the marble floors as she went.
    No, Kamran seldom heard his mother’s voice until it was too late.

Six

    ALIZEH’S MORNING HAD BEEN, AMONG other things, disappointing. She’d sacrificed an hour of sleep, braved the winter dawn, narrowly escaped an attempt on her life, and eventually returned to Baz House with only regret to report, wishing her pockets weighed as heavy as her mind.
    She’d carried the unwieldy parcel through several snowdrifts before arriving at the servants’ entrance of the Lojjan ambassador’s estate, and, after forcing her frozen lips to stammer out an explanation for her appearance at the threshold, the bespectacled housekeeper had handed Alizeh a purse with her pay. Alizeh, shivering and fatigued, had made the mistake of counting the coin only after relinquishing her commission, and then, forgetting herself entirely, dared to say aloud that she thought there’d been some kind of mistake.
    â€œForgive me, ma’am—but this is only h-half of what we agreed upon.”
    â€œMm.” The housekeeper sniffed. “You’ll get the rest once my mistress decides she likes the dress.”
    Alizeh’s eyes went round.
    Perhaps if her skirts hadn’t been stiff with frost, or if her chest had not felt as if it might fissure from cold—perhaps if her lips had not been so very numb, or if her feet had notlost all sensation—perhaps then she might’ve remembered to bite her tongue. Instead, Alizeh managed only to contain the worst of her outrage. A miracle, really, that she spoke with some measure of equanimity when she said, “But Miss Huda might decide she doesn’t like the dress simply to avoid payment.”
    The housekeeper recoiled, as if she’d been struck. “Careful what you say, girl. I won’t hear anyone call my mistress dishonest.”
    â€œBut surely you can see that this is indeed dishon—” Alizeh said, slipping on a spot of ice. She caught herself against the doorframe, and the housekeeper shrank back farther, this time with an undisguised revulsion.
    â€œ Off ,” the woman snapped. “Get your filthy hands off my door—”
    Startled, Alizeh jumped back, miraculously avoiding another patch of ice just two inches to her left. “Miss Huda won’t even allow me in the h-house,” she stammered, her body now trembling violently with cold. “She wouldn’t allow me to do a single fitting—she could decide for any number of reasons that she doesn’t like my w-work—”
    The door slammed shut in her