Free This Woven Kingdom by Tahereh Mafi

risk his life in the town square for a thieving street urchin. It is not done.”
    â€œNo,” said the prince, subdued. He felt suddenly leaden. “I expect it is not.”
    â€œWe must now temper your recklessness with displays of solemnity,” said his grandfather. “Such performances will be for the benefit, in particular, of the noble families of the Seven Houses, upon whose political influence we heavily rely. You will host a ball. You will be seen at court. Youwill pay your respects to the Seven Houses, House of Piir, in particular. You will relieve them of any fears they might have as concerns your character. I will have them question neither the soundness of your mind nor your ability to rule. Is that clear?”
    â€œYes, Your Majesty,” said the prince, discomposed. Only now was he beginning to understand the weight of his error. “I will do as you bid me, and I will remain in Setar for as long as you think it necessary to repair this damage. Then, if you will allow it, I’d like to return to my troops.”
    Briefly, Zaal smiled. “I’m afraid it is no longer a good idea for you to be far from home.”
    Kamran did not pretend to misunderstand.
    â€œYou are healthy,” he said with more heat than he intended. “Fit and strong. Of sound mind. You could not be certain of such a thing—”
    â€œWhen you get to be my age,” Zaal said gently, “you can indeed be certain of such things. I’ve grown weary of this world, Kamran. My soul is eager to depart. But I cannot leave without first ensuring that our line is protected—that our empire will be protected.”
    Slowly, the prince looked up into his grandfather’s eyes.
    â€œYou must know.” Zaal smiled. “I did not ask you to come home merely to rest.”
    At first, Kamran did not understand. When he did, a beat later, he felt the force of the realization like a blow to the head. He could scarcely form the words when he said:
    â€œYou need me to marry.”
    â€œArdunia requires an heir.”
    â€œ I am your heir, Your Majesty. I am your servant—”
    â€œKamran, we are on the brink of war.”
    The prince held steady even as his heart pounded. He stared at his grandfather in something akin to disbelief. This was the conversation he’d been waiting to have, the news he’d been waiting to discuss. Yet even now, King Zaal seemed disinclined to say much.
    This, Kamran could not countenance.
    His grandfather was threatening to die—threatening to leave him here alone to wage a war, to defend their empire—and instead of equipping him for such a fate, was tasking him with marriage? No, he could not believe it.
    Through sheer force of will was Kamran able to keep his voice steady when he said, “If we are to go to war, Your Highness, surely you might assign me a more practical task? There’s no doubt a great deal more I could do to protect our empire at such a time than court some nobleman’s daughter.”
    The king only stared at Kamran, his expression serene. “In my absence, the greatest gift you could give your empire is assurance. Certainty. War will come, and with it, your duty”—he held up a hand to prevent Kamran from speaking—“which I know you do not fear.
    â€œBut if something should happen to you on the battlefield, we will be in chaos. Worthless relations will claim the throne, and then lay waste to it. There are five hundred thousand soldiers under our command. Tens of millions who rely on us to manage their well-being, to ensure their safety, to procure the necessary water for their crops, to guarantee food for their children.” Zaal leaned forward. “You must secure theline, my child. Not just for me, but for your father. For your legacy. This , Kamran, is what you must do for your empire.”
    The prince understood then that there was no choice to be made. King Zaal was not asking