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a woman with that name. She was the most powerful creature to ever exist, according to the rumors. Somehow, I’m not sure if that’s true.”

“She might be the most powerful woman to ever exist. But we battled once, and I would have bested her.”

“Would have, but didn’t. What stopped you?”

He hesitated in his reply, because he didn’t want to let this woman know where his weaknesses lay. And yet… Tahira had proved herself loyal to the country. If Sigrid were to become even more essential to this place, then he needed someone else to admire her just as he did.

Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. “The other half of my soul.”

“A sultana?”

“In name only. She’s never needed a crown or a throne to make her a queen.” He believed the words with all his being. Long before she had become the Sultana of Bymere, Sigrid was a woman people remembered. She had changed their lives for the better, and the life of his kingdom into something he could be proud of.

He needed to tell her that. It was important she know he thought so highly of her. That his people would think highly of her when they saw him around her.

She deserved better than a boy king. And so, he’d become a god.

Tahira cleared her throat. “A woman I will look forward to meeting. But for now, Sultan of Bymere, I need you to come with me.”

“Where are we going now? Are you going to try and drown me again?”

“Never again, Sultan. That I promise.” She pressed a fist against her heart and bowed. “Your mother has summoned you.”

His gaze flicked toward the bench where he’d left Nahla. She wasn’t there at all. Nothing was left in the garden oasis that would even suggest she’d ever sat there. Not a single mark or a scrap of fabric to remind him.

“Where did she go?”

“Your mother is very sick,” Tahira murmured. “She’s been fading for a very long time. It was her wish to meet you before she went, but now she’s stayed longer than her body wanted to. She wishes one more goodbye before she joins the ancestors.”

Should he feel more affected by the knowledge? Nadir was sad, of course. The loss of life was a horrible and frightening thing to most of them. The Beastkin believed they would go to live with their ancestors, but the Bymerians didn’t. They didn’t even have priests in his kingdom. Let alone an afterlife that would give them something more than just oblivion.

Swallowing hard, he nodded and followed Tahira from the oasis. They traveled through the village, while he schooled his face into the appropriate expression.

Should he be distraught? It didn’t feel befitting of a sultan.

He’d never seen a person die before. Not up close, nor had he ever really seen a dead body. Perhaps the ones that were on display, but even his brother he been hidden from him in those final moments.

As a child, he’d thought that was odd. Nadir had sat by Hakim’s bedside while his brother struggled as poison ate his body from the inside out. He had seen the worst of what could happen to a person’s body. Death could be a release from such pain.

This was different. Nahla was still a strong woman. Her hands had felt fragile, certainly, but the grip was true. She had been strong enough to hold a conversation with him and wander into the oasis garden.

Why was now the time she wanted to die? Was she making some kind of point to him?

He couldn’t force himself to feel for her as a son should feel. She hadn’t raised him. In truth, he didn’t even know her. He knew her name and that she had spent most of her life with the people here, training them how to fight. But was that enough to feel some kind of attachment?

He didn’t think so. A year ago he might have felt something different. The respect in his chest wasn’t the same blind faith he might have felt as a boy who was desperately trying to find someone to love him. Now, all new attuned was the respect of a woman who should have loved him. The honor of knowing he’d done the right thing by her, and that she would go into the darkness with some kind of approval.

The first person to approve of him since his brother had died.

Tahira stopped in front of the small hut he knew so well and gestured at the covered doorway. “She’s in there. Waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” he replied, reaching out a hand and grasping her shoulder. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“She is my leader.”

“She’s more than that to you, isn’t she?” He looked deeply into her gaze and saw the truth flickering in those depths. “It’s okay,” he said. “She’s not going to be in pain much longer.”

“That’s what everyone says. Like that’s going to help when she’s not going to be here anymore.”

Gods, he wished he could share that sentiment with her. But he couldn’t bring himself to reply that he would feel the loss of her as well. He’d miss her spirit; the strength she had shown him.

But this woman wasn’t his mother. That was the sultana who had brushed his hair and shown him how to braid the long locks. Not the woman who had left him on the doorstep for his father to pick up later on.

Nadir blew out a breath, brushed aside the red fabric door, and stepped into the quiet hut beyond.

No one else waited with the Matriarch of the Alqatara, a realization that made him angry on her behalf. She shouldn’t have to make this journey by herself. What if she had passed while he took his time getting here? No one should have to walk across the bridge of life and death on their own.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the side of the bed where a rattling breath echoed. He sank onto his knees beside

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