Free Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust Page A

shah than Sorush.
    â€œThere’s no need to call me that,” Sorush said, referring to his royal title. “I know you meant no harm. I only wished you had asked me first—”
    â€œShe asked me, ” Tahmineh said sharply. “And I forbade it. I’m surprised you would do something so dangerous, Soraya. I always thought you were more careful than that.”
    Soraya bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes stinging. For anyone else, that might have been a mild reprimand, but for Soraya, being careful was a matter of life and death.
    â€œWhat did the div tell you?” her mother asked.
    Go ask your mother if I lied to you.
    Soraya studied her mother’s expression, looking for some hint of fear or guilt, but her perfect mask never fell. Still, Soraya couldn’t bring herself to tell them what Parvaneh had told her. For one thing, to accuse her mother of lying to her would be unforgivably disrespectful. But also, even if Parvaneh were lying, it was exactly the kind of manipulation her mother had warned her about, and she would be even more insistent that Soraya never speak to the div again.
    â€œI asked her if she knew of a way to lift my curse. She told me nothing useful,” Soraya answered, which she hoped was true enough not to count as a lie. “But I think it’s possible that might change with time.”
    â€œYou mean you wish to return?” Sorush said, a note of interest in his voice.
    â€œYes,” Soraya said, “with your permission, of course.”
    â€œAbsolutely not,” Tahmineh said at once, turning to her son for confirmation. “It’s too dangerous.”
    Both Soraya and her mother watched Sorush, waiting for himto make his decision. Soraya could imagine her mother’s frustration at knowing that her son could go against her wishes if he chose—and she, too, felt a prickle of annoyance at waiting for her twin brother’s blessing to do anything.
    But during her brother’s thoughtful silence, Soraya noticed something other than frustration on her mother’s face. It happened so briefly: The stony look on Tahmineh’s face flickered, revealing something closer to fear or despair. It was like looking at a fine tapestry, its uniformity presenting a single image, and then, between one blink and the next, seeing every thread that held it together, ready to unravel at the slightest touch. For an instant, Soraya saw the fragility of the threads holding her mother together, and that was how she knew that Parvaneh was telling the truth.
    Soraya’s mother was keeping something from her. And whatever the truth was, she was terrified for Soraya to discover it.
    â€œI agree with our mother’s judgment,” Sorush finally said. “I must ask that you not enter the dungeon or speak to the div again.”
    Soraya didn’t trust herself to speak. Her mother said, “It’s the right choice, Soraya,” but Soraya kept her eyes down, unable to look at either of them.
    â€œI’d like to speak to you alone, if I may, in a less formal setting,” Sorush said. Soraya hated the way he phrased commands as if they were requests—as if she had any choice in the matter. It was as false a pretense as the crown floating a hair’s breadth above his head.
    â€œOf course,” Soraya murmured.
    â€œPlease wait for me there,” he said, stretching his arm toward a door to the side of the chamber.
    Soraya walked with heavy steps to the door, which opened onto what seemed to be a council room. A long table took up most of the unadorned chamber, and Soraya paced its length as she waited for her brother to join her.
    At last he arrived, looking smaller now without his crown and his state robes, an apologetic smile on his face. Soraya turned away from him and continued to pace. She should have wished him a happy new year, or congratulated him on his engagement, but she was sure that anything she said to him now