Kaveh eyed the other man with skepticism. “You have been listening too closely to Banu Nahri.”
The priest flushed. “I did not agree with her ideas originally, but I have been to her hospital and seen Daevas and djinn and shafit caring for one another.”
“And was this before or after shafit attacked the Navasatem procession?” Kaveh provoked him. “Before the dirt-bloods she was helping returned her kindness by trying to assassinate her and my son? Did you give this lecture to the hundred murdered Daevas during their last rites? To Nisreen?”
“Kaveh.” Manizheh laid a hand on his wrist. She returned her gaze to the priest, looking more exasperated than angry now. “Kartir, I am given to understand my daughter can be very convincing, but I wouldn’t let her sway your opinion on the shafit. She has been under the influence of Geziris and humans for far too long and does not know of what she speaks.”
“I don’t believe that,” Kartir replied, sounding offended. “I know Banu Nahri. She has her own mind.”
“Her own mind led her to commit treason,” Manizheh argued. “I don’t think we should let her opinions influence the direction of our faith.”
The priest paled. “Treason? But you said Alizayd kidnapped her.”
“I lied. The truth is that Nahri gave Alizayd the seal and fled at his side. I’d like to get her back and believe it best if her treachery is concealed for now.” Manizheh’s voice grew delicate. “It’s so hard for young women to recover their reputations. I don’t want our tribe to turn on her forever just because she lost her head for some silver-tongued prince.”
Kartir rocked back on his heels. “You’re surely not suggesting …” He trailed off, his cheeks going red. “I don’t believe it.”
Dara felt like a rug had been pulled out from underneath him. What was Manizheh suggesting?
And then he saw Nahri again, her eyes blazing as she stood before him and the Qahtani brothers and brought the ceiling down on Dara’s head. As she tackled him to the ground when Vizaresh had been trying to enslave the djinn prince. The affection between the pair that Dara himself had used six years ago to put a blade to Alizayd’s throat and force Nahri’s hand.
Dara could not put a word to the emotion that twisted through him. It wasn’t quite jealousy, nor was it guilt. He realized it wasn’t friendship Manizheh was suggesting had moved her daughter’s actions, but he also knew he’d long ago lost the right to plumb the depths of Nahri’s heart.
However that didn’t mean he had to stand by while Manizheh spread such damaging gossip. “May the fires burn brightly for you all,” he greeted them loudly, striding out from the columns as though he’d just arrived. “Something I’ve missed?”
“Not at all,” Manizheh replied calmly, as though she hadn’t been slandering her daughter as a treasonous adulterer. She smiled at Kartir. “I thank you for your counsel. Please be assured I will consider it. Indeed, perhaps I could oversee sunrise ceremonies tomorrow and meet with the rest of the priests and Daeva dignitaries? I understand this turn of events is shocking and frightening, but I do believe we can overcome things if we band together.”
She might as well have physically tossed Kartir out. The priest looked a little lost, his earlier drive gone.
“Of course,” he stammered. “We look forward to welcoming you.” His eyes briefly flickered to Dara, but he said nothing, making his way out.
The silence that fell over the three of them was heavy, the weight of the magnificent chamber eerie without a full crowd. Manizheh watched the priest retreat beyond the doors.
“I want him gone.” Her cold voice sliced through the warm air.
“It will be difficult,” Kaveh warned. “Kartir has held the position for a long time and is highly respected.”
“More reason to get rid of him. I don’t need him teaching heresy to his flock, and I’m sure there are plenty of senior priests who prefer the old ways. Find one and replace him.” Her gaze shifted to Dara. “I hope you bring better news.”
Dara took a moment to set aside everything he’d overheard—it would not do to reveal he’d been eavesdropping. “Regretfully, no. We have too few volunteers and even fewer with military skills. We’re managing to protect the Daeva Quarter, but I fear effective offensive action is out of the question. We don’t have the numbers.”
“Any idea how to get them?”
“We could offer an increased stipend,” he suggested. “I do not like the idea of needing to bribe men to protect their own people, but it’s an option.”
“It’s not,” Kaveh said. “I wish it was, but the Treasury cannot accommodate such a thing right now. The more we dig into Ghassan’s finances, the more trouble we find. The Ayaanle had been working to pay their back taxes but stopped when Queen Hatset was banished. The Treasury was overspending in the hopes of making it back during the Navasatem celebrations, but without that income, funds are very low. We’re already having enough problems paying the Daeva noble families whose lands and harvests we commandeered.”
“Those families should be happy for the opportunity to play their part,” Manizheh retorted. “I doubt they fared well under Ghassan.”
“They fared better than you might imagine,” Kaveh said. “They’re the oldest and wealthiest houses in the city, and they got that way by learning when to get in bed with the Qahtanis.”
“I take it the skilled archers I am not permitted to use in the city’s defense are also from these families?” Dara asked, scowling.
“Yes. I’ve already had two of them thrown in the dungeon for inquiring a bit too aggressively about Muntadhir’s fate.”
“That won’t do,” Manizheh said. “We have enough djinn conspiring outside our walls. I will not brook disloyalty from our people as well. Get them in line.”
Before Kaveh
