THE DANCING GIRL

Chapter 14

TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, I'm sure you get the idea

NOOR fidgeted in front of Sher Rakim's door, several different emotions coursing through her.

What if he was suspected she was up to something? What if she messed up? This was the night where it might all happen.

She'd told the Rajkumars and Amir to wait in the secret passage. If she found an opportunity to slip Sher Rakim the powder, and it worked, she'd knock on the wall. Then they'd come in and search his rooms.

So many things could go wrong. Maybe she wouldn't be able to give him the powder. Maybe it wouldn't work properly. Maybe he'd wake up while they were all there. Maybe someone would come in while they were searching the chambers.

Noor took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Even if something went wrong, she had to do this. Whatever it took. She'd do anything to bring down Sher Rakim, the kind of monster who'd kill his own nephews, children, just so he could have the throne.

Because of course that was what he wanted. Noor had heard the stories. Rajkumar Rakim Sha'aram, barely a year younger than his older brother Qasim, always trying to appear stronger, smarter, better than his older brother. He'd never succeeded. Qasim became the Maharaja, and Rakim became a Sher.

He'd gotten what he'd wanted when Iyan Sha'aram had passed, and the Maharaja, grieving his dead love, had sent his sons away and retreated from court politics. But now the Rajkumars were back, and Rakim and Butnam evidently feared losing the control they had over the kingdom.

He deserved to be in the dungeons, that man. If she could even call him a man. To hurt family was one of the worst sins. But then, one could expect anything from Sher Rakim, really. And of course, he'd passed on his greed to his son.

Noor looked up when a guard approached.

"Sher Rakim will see you now."

Noor nodded and took in a breath, gathering her red skirts and waiting for the doors to open before walking in.

Sher Rakim's chambers were as dark and smoky as always, the heat washing over her as soon as she entered. The doors shut, and Noor looked around.

Sher Rakim was approaching her from the right, his usual goblet of wine tilted at a risky angle. Noor found her eyes glued on it, watching to see if the dark liquid would spill onto his lush carpets, instead of the Sher himself.

"Noor Kassab," Sher Rakim said, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

"Sher Rakim," Noor said, dipping her head. Instead of feeling primarily fear, as she'd thought she'd would, what burned through her blood was pure anger—at this man, who'd been terrorizing the Rajkumars since they were children.

She kept her face shy, yet eager as she looked up, looking at him straight in the eyes. He was o different from the Rajkumars—his kurta halfway unbuttoned, his hair a mess, and his eyes dark and eager.

"I'm delighted to see you here tonight," Sher Rakim said. He took a sip of wine without breaking eye contact.

"Not as delighted as I am," Noor said, giving him a sly smile.

"What do you think you'll be doing tonight, lamb?" Sher Rakim said, raising his eyebrows.

"Whatever the Sher wishes," Noor murmured, lowering her eyes coyly.

Sher Rakim took her hand, and it was all Noor could do not to flinch. He ran his fingers through hers, the heat of his much larger hand unwelcome. Noor played along, though, spreading her fingers, glancing at him suggestively.