The Moth and the Flame Read Free Page B

everything.”
    â€œI never laid claim to such a belief,” Jalal said, his feet taking him one step closer. Still the moth to the flame. “But I
do
happen to know everything about women . . . what they like, what theydislike”—he moved his hand through the air in an endless circle—“what they mean to say though they refuse to say it.”
    The girl snorted with derision. “Further idiocy. With the snap of my fingers, I could ask you a question about women to which you do not know the answer.”
    â€œAre you making a wager with me?” As Jalal bent toward her, a distinctly floral fragrance caught his attention. It hovered about the girl, its scent soothingly sweet, saturating the air in alluring waves.
    â€œPerhaps.” She quirked her chin in teasing fashion.
    â€œAnd the terms?”
    The girl brought the empty tray between them, as though it were a shield. “If I win, you must give me any flower of my choosing.”
    â€œAnd if I win?” Jalal dropped his voice with deliberate suggestion. “Will you give me whatever I wish?”
    â€œOh, don’t be an ass.” Her laugh was meant to sound caustic, but Jalal sensed a hint of disquiet behind it. “I’m not foolish enough to make such a reckless promise with a notorious rake.”
    He stood toe to toe with her. “But you could be a fool,” he murmured. “Just this once.”
    Her breath caught, her eyes glittering like a sea after a storm. “Only in the wildest of your dreams would that ever happen.” The tray lifted higher, pressing the silver against the swell of her chest. “If you win, I will tell you one thing you wish to know about me.”
    The decadent sight of the girl before Jalal distracted him. Took him off guard. Rendered him incompetent. “Ask away, my lovely tormenter. Ask and be proven wrong.”
    â€œYou claim to know everything about women,” she began. “But tell me, Captain al-Khoury, do you know my name?”
    Jalal was at a loss. Her perfume had cloaked his senses. Clouded his judgment.
    He hadn’t been expecting such a question.
    An easy one. A silly one.
    One Jalal could not romance his way through.
    Such an occasion happened but once in the lifetime of a profligate such as he. It took every ounce of his self-control not to frown or grumble or kick at nothing, like a bested schoolboy. Infuriated by how easily he’d fallen prey to this cheeky handmaiden’s wit, Jalal took a step back.
    He racked his mind for an answer. Any answer that would color him less the fool.
    It took him far longer than he wished. But soon Jalal managed to contrive a way to remedy this situation. In
his
favor. He smiled.
    â€œMeet me to collect your winnings in the first tier of the royal gardens at sunset.”
    With that, Jalal spun on a heel and walked away.

A SUNSET STROLL
    T HIS WOULD NOT END WELL.
    Of that, Despina was certain.
    But her current reservations were of little consequence. She would not show the young captain of the guard the effect he’d had on her. The effect he was sure to have on her. So instead Despina stood at the edge of the first tier in the royal gardens, her head high as she watched the sun descend along the horizon. The sky above was tinted in hues of pink and orange. Hues of fire and light and celebration.
    What kind of celebration, Despina wouldn’t pretend to know.
    Below her, the tiers of the royal gardens blossomed with color and life, their terraces stacked like large stones in a descending staircase. Each tier brought with it a new experience. The first tier—the one in which she waited—included an aviary, filled with songbirds of every sort. The tiny creatures flitted about behind her, trilling their mockery to riotous discord. The lark in particular appeared to have much to say regarding her current circumstance.
    Much to lecture.
    Indeed. Despina never should have made a wager