Page 57 of Dirty Wild Sultan

I let them. It was their duty to check and report back to the council, and especially my husband, who had banished me from Azmia.

“Everything’s clear, you can have your lunch, Sultana,” the woman with blonde hair smiled at me with a bow, her holsters fitted with two guns as she unbuttoned her suit. I had noticed her mostly around the palace, but for the last two days, she had been around my room a lot.

“You don’t have to call me that. I am not a sultana anymore,” I answered, feeling a little intimidated by her intelligent, green eyes. She seemed too pretty with the guns, and I didn’t want to tick her off by saying anything wrong. Even though her warm smile felt friendly.

“Bullshit, you are a sultana. That too of Azmia,” she said. “Trust me, Zain isn’t stupid, and he will take you out of here before you know it. Think of it as a mini vacation.”

“How do you know Zain?”And how dare you call him by his first name.

“It’s a long story—oh, is thatkunafah. I lovekunafah! Do you mind if I take a small bite? Please? I will bring you anyone’s head you want!” She cooed, her eyes pleading.

I blinked at her. “Head?”

She nodded. “Yes, your enemy or someone you hate.”

My eyes widened, and I gave her a once over.Who is she?I cleared my throat and shook my head. “No, that’s alright. I don’t want anyone’s head. You can take a bite.”

“Thank you!” She practically bounced towards the sweet and took the small bite which my brother had torn for me. Before she put it in her mouth, she sniffed it and took a step back.

Her green eyes widened when she looked at me, “Please tell me you didn’t eat anything from that plate.”

I shook my head, confused by her actions. “I didn’t.”

She nodded at me, “Good.” Taking the plate, she opened the door to my room and handed it to another guard, whispering something in his ear.

“What happened? That was my lunch.” My stomach growled with sadness.

“I am sorry, Sultana. Your lunch will be with you in a few minutes with a royal tester in tow.”

“I don’t need a royal tester,” I laughed, thinking about someone tasting my food before me.

“Yes, you do. Thatkunafahwas poisoned.” Her tone was firm.

“Who would do that to me?” I almost squeaked, clutching my stomach.

“You are a ruler of Azmia whose father committed a heinous crime. Of course, some people would want you either dead or as a hostage,” she said casually, as if she was talking to me about her favorite colors.

“Don’t worry, I will make sure no harm comes your way, Your Grace. Please eat the food only after the tester has eaten a bite of everything.”

I nodded, still confused, when the door of my room was closed. I sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what had happened.

* * *

Imran had beenfurious when he got the news of my food poisoning. He had apologized to me when the cook who had emptied the poison in my food had been caught in less than a day. He considered himself guilty for trying to make me eat my favorite sweet. But it wasn’t his fault. The same cook had poisoned his and Sadiq’s lunch.

The blonde guard had told me that the cook would be sent to Azmia and questioned there by the Sultan himself and then executed.

I didn’t like whatever was happening around me. As soon as I was ready to accept my feelings towards Zain, he forced me to leave Azmia instead of trying to hear me out. My family and I were being kept like caged birds in the walls of the palace, always surrounded by the guards with a threat to our lives.

Why did he have to make me leave? I hate him.

26

Zain

“What other crimes have you committed?” I asked, the dim light of the prison casting a yellow shadow on Hamid Elbaz’s bruised face. The stench of sweat, blood and something rancid coated the air, making it hard to breathe. These dungeons, under the palace of Azmia, were used by our ancestors during the wars to keep the prisoners, and we had kept them just in case we had to use them again.

Khalid didn’t want him to sit or sleep, but I had been merciful to allow him a chair and sleep and food.

---