Episode 14
1655 Words
The Arrow That Wasn't Meant for Her
The arrow was still trembling in the wall.
Arzoo stared at it.
The black silk tied around its shaft seemed almost darker beneath the candlelight, and the six words written upon it refused to leave her mind.
The next arrow will not miss.
Someone had tried to kill her.
Again.
But this time, something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Emperor Zayan stood beside the broken window, his sword still drawn.
His gaze moved from the arrow to Yasmin.
Then to Arzoo.
"Captain."
Hamza immediately stepped forward.
"Your Majesty."
"Lock every entrance to this wing."
"Search the gardens. Roofs. Towers. Every servant's passage."
Hamza bowed.
"And Lady Arzoo?"
Zayan's expression hardened.
"She doesn't leave this room."
Arzoo's head snapped toward him.
"I beg your pardon?"
Hamza wisely looked away.
Zayan turned.
"You heard me."
"I did."
"Then why are you arguing?"
"Because I'm not a prisoner."
A muscle moved in his jaw.
"Someone just fired three arrows through your window."
"And they missed."
"Because you were lucky."
Arzoo's eyes narrowed.
"No. Because whoever fired them wasn't trying to kill me."
That stopped him.
The emperor's expression changed.
"What did you say?"
Arzoo walked toward the wall.
She carefully examined the arrow without touching it.
"The first arrow struck here."
She pointed toward the wall beside Yasmin.
"The second hit the curtain."
"The third..."
Her gaze shifted toward the floor.
"...was aimed at the table."
Zayan stepped closer.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning they weren't shooting randomly."
Arzoo looked at him.
"They were forcing us to look in certain directions."
Hamza's brows drew together.
"For what?"
Arzoo's eyes dropped.
The answer came to her all at once.
"The room."
Zayan immediately understood.
"Search it."
Guards flooded the chamber.
Every chest was opened.
Every curtain was removed.
Furniture was pushed aside.
The carpets were lifted.
Arzoo watched silently.
Then Yasmin suddenly gasped.
"My Lady..."
Arzoo turned.
The young servant was pointing beneath the writing table.
Something tiny glimmered in the candlelight.
Hamza crouched and retrieved it.
A silver bead.
No larger than a fingernail.
It was engraved with a tiny crescent.
Zayan's expression went cold.
"Where did you find that?"
"Under the table, Your Majesty."
The emperor held out his hand.
Hamza placed the bead in it.
Zayan studied the engraving.
"Silver Crescent."
Arzoo's stomach tightened.
The same symbol from the underground chamber.
The same organization that had been hunting her.
But why leave something so obvious behind?
She looked toward the broken window.
"They wanted us to find it."
Zayan slowly turned toward her.
"Exactly."
Arzoo frowned.
"Then it's not evidence."
"No."
His eyes darkened.
"It's bait."
A commotion suddenly erupted outside.
"Move!"
"Open the door!"
"Your Majesty!"
The doors flew open.
A palace guard stumbled inside.
He was pale.
"Your Majesty..."
"What happened?"
"We found someone."
Hamza immediately stepped forward.
"Who?"
The guard swallowed.
"One of the palace archers."
"Dead."
Silence.
Zayan's face became unreadable.
"Where?"
"Near the eastern tower."
"Take me there."
Arzoo stepped forward.
"I'm coming."
"No."
Her eyes flashed.
"That was not a request."
Zayan turned sharply.
"Neither was mine."
"You expect me to sit here while everyone else investigates the people trying to kill me?"
"I expect you to remain alive."
The words came out sharper than he intended.
Arzoo went quiet.
For half a second, neither spoke.
Then she calmly replied,
"And I expect you to stop treating me as if I am made of glass."
Something flickered in Zayan's eyes.
Respect?
Frustration?
Perhaps both.
Finally, he turned toward Hamza.
"She stays beside me."
Hamza's eyebrows rose.
"Your Majesty—"
"Beside me."
Arzoo folded her arms.
"I can walk on my own."
Zayan looked at her.
"I didn't say you couldn't."
The Dead Archer
The eastern tower was in chaos.
Guards surrounded the courtyard.
Servants had been ordered inside.
No one was allowed near the body.
The dead archer lay beneath an old neem tree.
His uniform belonged to the Imperial Guard.
His bow was beside him.
His throat bore a single narrow wound.
Arzoo stopped several steps away.
She didn't need to examine the body closely.
The message was obvious.
The assassin had silenced someone.
But who?
Hamza crouched beside the dead man.
"He was assigned to the eastern watch."
Zayan's expression darkened.
"How long?"
"Three years."
"Any enemies?"
"None known."
Arzoo looked around.
"Where is his quiver?"
Hamza looked up.
"What?"
"The quiver."
He immediately searched the ground.
Nothing.
Arzoo pointed toward the roof.
"There."
A leather quiver hung from the edge of a stone balcony.
Hamza's face changed.
He climbed the stairs and retrieved it.
Inside were eleven arrows.
He counted them.
Then stopped.
"Your Majesty."
"What?"
"There should be twelve."
Arzoo felt a chill.
"One is missing."
Zayan looked toward her.
"The arrow fired at you."
She shook her head.
"No."
Everyone stared at her.
Arzoo pointed toward the eastern tower.
"That arrow wasn't fired at me."
She looked at the palace roof.
"It was fired from here."
Hamza's eyes widened.
"But if the assassin was standing in the tower..."
"He wasn't."
Arzoo looked toward the dead archer.
"He was the one who fired the arrow."
Zayan's gaze sharpened.
"Explain."
Arzoo walked closer.
"The first arrow struck my wall."
"The second hit the curtain."
"The third struck the table."
She looked at the dead archer.
"All three were meant to make us believe someone was shooting from outside."
"But?"
"But there were three arrows."
Hamza understood.
"The third arrow..."
"Was never fired at Lady Arzoo."
Arzoo nodded.
"It was fired at the room from a different angle."
She looked toward the palace.
"Someone wanted the dead archer to appear guilty."
Zayan's eyes narrowed.
"Which means the assassin was already inside the palace."
Arzoo's heartbeat quickened.
Not outside.
Not in the streets.
Not hiding in some distant fortress.
Inside.
Among them.
A sudden shout came from the guards.
"Your Majesty!"
Everyone turned.
A young soldier was running toward them.
He dropped to one knee.
"We found another body."
Hamza stood.
"Where?"
"The servants' passage."
Arzoo's face went pale.
"Who?"
The soldier hesitated.
"A kitchen servant."
Yasmin suddenly stepped forward.
"Was it..."
She stopped.
The color drained from her face.
Zayan noticed.
"You know him?"
Yasmin nodded slowly.
"He was the man who gave me Lady Arzoo's supper last night."
Arzoo's eyes widened.
Her supper.
The meal she'd eaten before the assassination attempt.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Zayan looked at Hamza.
"Search the kitchen."
"Immediately."
Then Yasmin whispered,
"My Lady..."
Arzoo turned.
The girl was trembling.
"There is something else."
"What?"
Yasmin looked around nervously.
"Before I came to your room..."
"I saw someone."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Then what did you see?"
Yasmin squeezed her hands together.
"A woman."
Arzoo's breath caught.
"What woman?"
"She was wearing a veil."
"Did you see her face?"
"No."
"Then how do you know she wasn't simply a noblewoman?"
Yasmin swallowed.
"Because she was wearing the Imperial Family's bracelet."
Zayan went completely still.
Arzoo looked at him.
"The Imperial Family?"
Yasmin nodded.
"Golden."
"With a falcon engraved on it."
No one spoke.
Because only a handful of people could legally wear that symbol.
And one of them...
Was supposed to be dead.
A Name From the Past
That night, Arzoo sat inside the emperor's private library.
The room was enormous.
Thousands of manuscripts lined the walls.
Ancient maps covered one table.
Zayan stood opposite her, reading through an old royal register.
Hamza had left them alone only after doubling the guards outside.
Arzoo broke the silence.
"Who was Queen Aaliyah's closest female relative?"
Zayan looked up.
"Why?"
"Yasmin saw the bracelet."
"She could be mistaken."
"Perhaps."
Arzoo leaned forward.
"But you don't think she is."
Zayan closed the book.
"No."
"Why?"
He was silent for several seconds.
Then he said,
"Because the Imperial Family once had another princess."
Arzoo's pulse quickened.
"Who?"
Zayan's gaze lowered.
"Princess Mahira."
"Your aunt."
Arzoo stared at him.
"What happened to her?"
"She disappeared twenty years ago."
"During the fall of the Falcon Dynasty?"
"Three days before it."
Arzoo slowly stood.
"Is she alive?"
Zayan didn't answer.
She understood.
"You think she is."
"I think someone wants us to believe she is."
Arzoo walked toward the ancient family tree hanging on the wall.
Her eyes moved over the names.
Kings.
Queens.
Princes.
Princesses.
Then she stopped.
There.
Princess Mahira — presumed dead.
Arzoo's fingers curled.
"Why would your aunt want me dead?"
Zayan's voice became quiet.
"Perhaps she doesn't."
Arzoo turned.
"Then who?"
Before he could answer—
A soft knock sounded.
Hamza entered.
His face was grim.
"Your Majesty."
Zayan straightened.
"What did you find?"
Hamza looked toward Arzoo.
"The kitchen servant wasn't poisoned."
"Then how did he die?"
"He was strangled."
Arzoo's heart sank.
Hamza continued.
"And we found something in his room."
He placed a folded piece of paper on the table.
Zayan opened it.
His eyes moved across the words.
Then froze.
Arzoo noticed.
"What does it say?"
Zayan didn't respond.
"Your Majesty."
Slowly, he handed the paper to her.
Arzoo read it.
Only one sentence had been written.
The Falcon Queen did not die on the night of the palace fire.
Her breath stopped.
She looked at Zayan.
"What..."
Her voice broke.
"What does this mean?"
The emperor stared at her.
For the first time since Arzoo had known him...
Zayan looked genuinely shaken.
Then another line appeared beneath the first.
Arzoo hadn't noticed it because the ink was nearly invisible.
She tilted the page toward the candle.
Letters slowly emerged.
Her mother's handwriting.
She knew it immediately.
Her fingers began to tremble.
The message read:
My daughter, if you ever discover this letter, do not trust the emperor.
Arzoo looked up.
Zayan was standing directly across from her.
Neither spoke.
And for the first time...
Arzoo wondered whether the man protecting her...
Was actually the man she needed protection from.
— End of Chapter 14 —
- Writer
