This Woven Kingdom

I think I might fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again.

Though if you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.

What a strange girl you are...to behold a rose and perceive only its thorns, never the bloom.

You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you,” he said to her. “I feel now, in your presence, entirely strange. I think I might fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again.

For she had learned long ago that when a home was not found it was forged. Indeed it could be fashioned even from nothing

Was it worrisome that he felt nothing but pleasure to be held at her mercy?

What is your name?” “Of all the non sequiturs. Why do you need to know my name?” “So that I may hate you more informally.” “Ah. Well, in that case, you may call me Cyrus.” “Cyrus,” she said. “You insufferable monster. Where on earth are we going?

Are you some kind of Diviner?” “No.” “A monster, then?” He almost smiled. “Don’t say you’ve been speaking with my mother?

Say you came back for me," he whispered. There was a thread of desire in his voice that threatened the good sense in her head, her very composure. "Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind." "How--how can you even say such things," she said, her hands beginning to tremble, "on an evening you are meant to choose another as your bride?" "I choose you," he said simply. "I want you.

Fire was her soul, but water was her life; it was all she needed to survive

Did you really feel it necessary to add that last part?” “Which part?” “And I will not care,” she said, echoing his emotionless tone. “Do you enjoy being needlessly petty?” “Yes,” he said. “I do.

What worlds he might be inspired to give up, he wondered, in the pursuit of knowing more of her mind.

Tell me your name," he whispered. Slowly, very slowly, Alizeh touched her fingers to his waist, anchored herself to his body. She heard his soft intake of breath. "Why?" she asked. He hesitated, briefly, before he said, "I begin to fear you've done me irreparable damage. I should like to know who to blame.

It is a dangerous thing to keep an intelligent woman from performing a single practical task,

This living, breathing world was hers to admire for this single moment in time, and she wanted to breathe it in; to luxuriate in the beating heart of civilization.

Though if you mean to take me captive, you ned only ask. I would come willingly.

Here, between angry and irritable, lies my charming personality. It does not change. You may be grateful that I am consistent, at least, in being boorish.

Well. You remember how I said I owed our mutual friend a very large debt?” “Yes.” “And that helping you was the only repayment he would accept?” She swallowed. “Yes.” “And do you remember how I told you that he wanted you to rule? To be a Jinn queen?” Alizeh nodded. “Well. You have no kingdom,” he said. “No land to lord over. No empire to lead.” “No,” she said softly. “I don’t.” “Well, then. You are coming to Tulan,” Cyrus said, taking a quick breath. “To marry me.

Never before had he been so consumed by the thoughts of anyone.

Alizeh was no longer smiling. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might bruise. "What shall I say, then?" "Your name. I want to hear it from your lips." She took a breath. Released it slowly. "My name," she said, "is Alizeh. I am Alizeh of Saam, the daughter of Siavosh and Kiana. Though you may know me better as the lost queen of Arya." He stiffened at that, went silent. Finally he moved, one hand capturing her face, his thumb grazing her cheek in a fleeting moment, there and gone again. His voice was a whisper when he said, "Do you wish to know my name, too, Your Majesty?" "Kamran," she said softly, "I already know who you are." She was unprepared when he kissed her, for the darkness had denied her a warning before their lips met, before he claimed her mouth with a need that stole from her an anguished sound, a faint cry that shocked her.

If she hadn’t known it was fire beside her, Alizeh thought she might be convinced she was listening instead to the pitter-patter of a gentle rain; a staccato beat against the roof of her attic room. How bizarre, she found herself thinking, that elements so essentially different could ever sound the same.

You think compassion costs nothing,” his grandfather said sharply. “You think sparing an innocent life is easy; that to do otherwise is an indication only of inhumanity. You do not yet realize that you possess the luxury of compassion because I have carried in your stead the weight of every cruelty, of every mercilessness necessary to ensuring the survival of millions.

He realized, with some despair, that everything would now remind him of her. The very sun and moon, the shifting of lightness and dark.

This is my dragon,” said the Tulanian king. “You are not allowed to steal my dragon.

She often wished she were a body with hinges, that she might throw open a door in her chest and fill its cavity.

You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you," he said to her. "I feel now, in your presence, entirely strange. I think I might fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again.

...for she had learned long ago that when a home was not found, it was forged; indeed, it could be fashioned from nothing

I haven't the slightest idea what we're doing," he said softly. "Though if you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.