THE DANCING GIRL

Chapter 24

NOOR turned, gripping Amir's fingers tighter, and walked in. Her bare feet sank into the lush carpets as she walked across the main hall, so large and full of ornate, exquisite furniture. She didn't really register any of it, though.

A guard, who had accompanied them, led them to a large room, and opened the doors.

Amir inhaled sharply.

It was clearly someone's private bedroom, with soft chairs and a rug, obviously expensive. But there, in front of them, was a large bed, covered with thick, silky blankets, people clustered around it.

One was obviously a healer, who was wringing a wet cloth into a basin. The other was the Maharaja, sitting beside the bed, his eyes fixed on the motionless figure lying in it. And the third...the third was Rajkumar Vikram, who looked up as they came in.

"Noor? Amir?" He asked, half-standing.

The Maharaja looked up sharply. His eyes widened. "What are you two doing here?"

"We can explain," Noor said, taking a step further.

"How did you escape?" The Maharaja asked, rising. "Guards—"

"Baba!" Rajkumar Vikram said, turning wide eyes to his father. "What are you talking about? Escape from where?" He turned, waving a hand to dismiss the guards.

"Please, we'll explain," Noor said, giving the Maharaja a pleading look. "We are not here to hurt them." She glanced at Amir, and stopped.

His eyes were fixed on the bed, and as Noor watched, he began walking towards it. She followed him, her knees feeling weak, eventually standing beside Rajkumar Vikram.

Rajkumar Fayyaz was lying in the bed, covered with heavy blankets, his face flushed and pale, drops of sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes were shut.

"Is he..."

Rajkumar Vikram shook his head, glancing at Amir. "He's in no danger. He's actually—"

The Maharaja interrupted. "What are you doing here?"

"Baba," Rajkumar Vikram said, his eyebrows furrowing. "They are friends. I'm sure they were concerned about Fayyaz."

The Maharaja blinked. "Friends?" Then his eyes hardened. "You cannot know that for sure, Vikram. They could very well be the ones to—to do this," he said, waving at Rajkumar Fayyaz's motionless figure.

"What?" Rajkumar Vikram said slowly. Then he turned to Noor and Amir, his eyes taking them in again, and Noor knew he saw the messy hair, the lack of layers, the stained clothes. The naked feet. He turned back to his father, his eyes hardening. "What did you do?"

The Maharaja swallowed. "Vikram, we had reason to suspect they did this. I temporarily put them in the dungeons, just until—"

"You did what?"

It hadn't been Rajkumar Vikram who had spoken.

Noor's mouth dropped open. She looked at Rajkumar Fayyaz, scarcely able to believe what she saw.

His eyes were open—squinting, yes, and bloodshot—but open, and turned on his father.

Amir let out a sob, a shaky hand covering his mouth.

Rajkumar Fayyaz looked away from his father, his eyes softening as he looked at them. The corner of his mouth turned up, as if he had the audacity to grin. "Morning, Amir."

"It's evening," Rajkumar Vikram said, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He hadn't looked away from his father. "When did you put them in the dungeons?" He glanced at Noor, the question in his eyes.