A week later, Marie-Fey finally made it to the capital city and was welcomed into the palace with the fanfare she deserved.

All she wanted was a bath and the chance to beat her husband with her sandals – or a rock – for being so intolerable in every sense of the word that she had had to drag herself across the desert yet again, loathing very trickle of sweat and grain of sand and maybe there was a reasonable explanation for the man keeping a hall of dead female bodies under his palace but, seeing as Marie-Fey couldn't think of a single decent reason, she was fast coming to the conclusion that a swift demise for the man was the most appropriate.

"At least try to not look like your plotting murder while we're here," Zaydan muttered under his breath.

"I can't help it, I am," Marie-Fey replied.

They had arrived three hours before and Marie-Fey had been shown to her apartments and had had a bath drawn. New clothes – ones appropriate for the Sultan's court – were laid out for her and as soon as she was ready, she called to have her husband informed of her presence.

In the meantime, she and Zaydan lounged in one of the glorious gardens, blooming tree showering fragrance down on them from above, flowering bushes surrounding them as chilled drinks and fresh fruit were served.

"You've had a week and you still have no other plan?" Zaydan asked.

"Look, I haven't even met the man. I should get through introductions first. Who knows, maybe I'll fall in love at first sight and choose to pretend all I know never existed."

"Don't even joke about that," Zaydan said, alarmed.

"About ignoring the horror back home?"

"About falling in love!"

Marie-Fey snorted at that, leaning back into the huge cushions laid out for her and taking a sip of a drink, looking up at the walls of the palace.

The garden was situated in one of the wings. It connected the main palace to the women's palace. Much like home, Marie-Fey was not technically allowed in the main palace. At home, she didn't hugely care one way or another if she didn't see the main palace because she was still the leading authority on what happened within the state if her husband was not available. She hardly took any interest in being surrounded by old, dusty officials after all. Here however, here it felt like an offence.

It was just as she was mulling over that that she spotted a eunuch hurrying towards her, his head low even as he bowed.

"My Lady," he greeted.

"Well?" Marie-Fey said coolly.

"Lord Rais has... um... he says that while he is pleasantly surprised by your arrival, he had instructed you to return home as it is not your place to be moving so freely."

Marie-Fey just looked at him for a long stretch of silence and the young man started to squirm.

"Oh really?" she finally said and the man flinched. "He said that, did he?"

"He said he would write when he has the time and send you a new gown."

Marie-Fey started to laugh, the sound like shattering glass as she gracefully swung to her feet.

"Oh dear," Zaydan muttered, getting up as well and following as Marie-Fey slammed the poor eunuch aside before he could stop her and swept into the palace, walking with such speed and purpose that even the guards second-guessed stopping her when they saw her approaching.

The one who did grip his weapon and hold a hand out to get her to pause was met by a glare so ferocious, he actively recoiled, staring at her.

"He thinks he can just dismiss me, is that it?" Marie-Fey said, shaking her head, the dozens of jewels woven into her hair chattering and chinking with rage.

"Well, if we take into account how he behaved on your wedding day," Zaydan said calmly as he sailed along beside her. "What exactly is your plan now?"

"I am going to see my husband," Marie-Fey said bluntly.

"Yes, if we ignore that he just dismissed you," Zaydan replied.

Marie-Fey laughed brightly. "Did he?" she asked and Zaydan raised an eyebrow at her before he suddenly stopped, staring as she kept going.

"Wait," he said, horrified, "Wait, where are you going?"

Marie-Fey didn't answer because he knew the answer.

"No, no, no. Fey, you can't!" he cried, racing after her as she hurled the doors that separated the two palaces open, making the guards on either side of the door stare at her. "Stop!" Zaydan shouted, scrambling to try and catch her arm but she wrenched it free and kept walking, eunuchs, maids and soldiers staring at her, too stunned to intercept her. "Fey, you cannot be here! Are you trying to get yourself killed? Stop!"

Marie-Fey stopped and he slammed into her, catching her arms to steady them both before she rounded on him. But rather than speaking, she reached for his hip, caught the hilt of his sword and tore it from it sheath, stepping back and swinging the blade up until it landed against his neck.

In an instant, every guard that had stood dumbstruck launched into action, rushing forwards, reaching for their own weapons.

"Nobody move!" Marie-Fey commanded and they all stilled, tense and silent, watching and waiting for Zaydan to command they intervene.

Zaydan just looked at Marie-Fey as Marie-Fey looked back at him.

"You can either help me or hinder me," Marie-Fey said calmly. "If you help me, I will solely take responsibilities for my actions in the next twenty minutes. If you hinder me, do not approach me again. This is bigger than us now. He cannot simply dismiss me. I am not a woman to be dismissed."

Zaydan folded his arms, frowning at her. "Well obviously I'm going to help you – even if you weren't blackmailing me with our friendship. But you have to realise how dangerous this line is that you're walking. Women cannot enter the central court, especially if it is in session. How do you expect walk out intact?"

Marie-Fey smiled at him, swinging the sword down and spinning it until the hilt was pointed to Zaydan, who took it and slid it away.

"I'm a Leigh Lady," she said simply, "There is nowhere I cannot go."

"Fey," Zaydan started, exasperated but she was already walking away, guards moving out of her way, looking between her and him, waiting for some sort of instruction to handle her.

But since none came, they were just left to watch, following out of a sense of fascination to see what would become of the crazy foreign lady who was sweeping through the gleaming alabaster and gold halls like she had ruled them for years.

Zaydan pointed the way until they finally reached the doors to the central court.

"Open," Marie-Fey ordered and the guards stationed outside it looked at her like she was demented. Then glanced at Zaydan for an explanation.

"Didn't you hear the lady?" he asked lazily and, after a confused moment, Marie-Fey strode forwards and flung the doors open herself.

The court was mid-session and forty men turned to stare at her.

The hall was a towering arching room, with huge latticed windows, azure sashes and marble floor. At the opposite end to the doors was the four-step dais, the wide golden throne stood at the top.

The Sultan stared at Marie-Fey as she looked back at him without batting an eyelash. He was probably ten years her senior; a tall, handsome man with close-cropped beard and hazel eyes that remained fixed on her as he slowly leant forwards.

"What is this?" he asked, his strong, deep voice echoing through the hall.

The simple question snapped the trance Marie-Fey had slowly been spinning out of the air and the guards who had been following her finally raced forwards, dropping to their knees.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty! We couldn't stop her!"

"Oh?" The Sultan said, smiling, "She doesn't look so strong. What magic do you wield to stop the guards of my palace in their tracks?"

Marie-Fey smirked, sweeping forwards until she stood at the bottom of the dais and she finally curtsied low, bowing her head.

"No magic, Your Majesty, but I shall not be stopped," she replied simply.

"So I see. And who are you?"

Marie-Fey's grin widened. "Who do you think I am, Sire?" she asked, and the entire hall drew in a violent gasp.

"Fey," Zaydan hissed, rushing up to stand almost behind her, bowing low.

"Fey?" The Sultan repeated, his eyes flashing at the name before he rose to his feet. He smirked as he swept down the dais to stand before her. "Ah, I know who you are. Lord Rais!"

Zaydan winced, then moved aside and Marie-Fey turned as a man separated himself from the crowd, the endless void of his black eyes fixed on her. In a room of a thousand, she would have been able to pick out Zahir Rais at a glance. He and Zaydan was undeniable brothers, the resemblance was so alike. Zahir was a few years older, perhaps not quite so slender and with shorter hair. But he was equally as handsome, with the same obsidian eyes that never seemed to end.

But it was also the eyes that belied the greatest difference.

Zaydan always looked at her like she was the most precious person in his world. Zahir's eyes were empty. Cold and desolate. He didn't care that he was seeing her for the first time. He wasn't happy, he wasn't angry. He just didn't care.

He bowed low to The Sultan as he approached, eyes flicking to his brother than away again.

"You didn't inform us that your wife would be appearing, and in such dramatic fashion," The Sultan said.

"She catches us all quite unawares," Zahir muttered, eyes returning to Marie-Fey.

"You should really know what I'm like now, Husband, I have a flare for the dramatics," Marie-Fey said coolly. Zahir's eyes narrowed and Marie-Fey smiled. Then she politely curtsied to him, bowing her head in a beautiful greeting that would make any husband proud, if his wife hadn't severely risked his reputation in a matter of minutes.

"So I see," Zahir muttered, "And why are you here, Lady Rais? Did I not ask you to return home?"

"You did but I have not finished what I came here to do."

"And what's that?"

"Meet my husband, of course. And learn the secrets behind this." As she spoke, Marie-Fey reached into one of the little jewelled bags that hung from her hip and withdrew the ornate old key that had opened the door to the hidden hall.

For a split second, Zahir's cool calm shattered. His eyes widened and he looked at Marie-Fey with all his attention and genuine interest, as if he wasn't just seeing her for the first time, but also registering her as an individual with her own individual merit.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, the emptiness settling back into place as he held a hand out for the key.

"This is probably talk for private," Marie-Fey said, ignoring his hand and putting it back.

Zahir eyed her for a moment, then dropped his hand. "You should return home," he said bluntly.

"I was almost murdered in my attempts to get here, Husband. You will afford me ten minutes," Marie-Fey ordered, her eyes turning as cold and cruel as his.

That sent ripples through the hall again and Zahir's eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. Then he looked past her and bowed to The Sultan.

"I beg you will forgive us both, Your Majesty. As you can see, I have neglected to properly discipline my wife. I shall be sure to do just so if you will only offer her another chance."

The Sultan let out a harsh laugh and turned away, sweeping up the steps and flinging himself back down into his throne, resting one ankle of the opposite knee and resting his arms on the armrests, settling back with a cold smirk.

"I do see. I always thought you chose an odd partner in her," he said, tilting his head to the side.

"Sire?" Zahir said, looking genuinely surprised.

The Sultan gave him a slow, lazy grin. "What a world you have married into. She is better suited to your brother."

Zahir glanced at Zaydan, who quickly lowered his gaze to the ground.

Zahir opened his mouth and The Sultan looked to one of his assistants.

"How faired The Sultana this morning?"

"Her Majesty was well, if a little pained. Her mood was bright, however."

The Sultan nodded and turned back to the trio before him. "Lady Rais, I look forward to getting to know you. As the wife of one of my top officials and a relation, this meeting it long overdue. However, court is still in session and woman are not permitted here. While I don't usually fear insulting a woman, I hope you won't take offence."

Marie-Fey smirked. "I shan't take offence, today," she replied.

Zahir drew in a deep breath and Zaydan muttered something under his breath.

The Sultan just smiled. "Will you keep my Queen company then? I know she has wished to meet you in the past."

"It would be my honour," Marie-Fey replied with a graceful bow of the head, followed by a curtsy. She took two steps back then turned, passing her husband and his hand seized around her arm, squeezing tight.

"You and I might not know each other, but I know you are lucky to not be on your way to the executioner's block this second," he muttered under his breath.

"I wasn't exaggerating when I said I was almost killed trying to get here," Marie-Fey said without looking at him, "If you had paid even a little attention to your palace, you would know that death has missed me time and time again. It's not my fate to die yet, I'm not scared of your Sultan. Now release me."

Zahir was quiet for a second, then released her. "I shall dine with you tonight. Take time to recover from your journey."

Marie-Fey swept away without another word.

"Where are you going?"

The question wasn't directed to her, but she still looked around to see Zahir eyeing Zaydan, who had turned to follow Marie-Fey.

"I..." Zaydan started before his voice faded.

"You are excused, Lord Zaydan," The Sultan said before anyone else could speak, "You only arrived today. You are not needed in court until tomorrow, be sure to be up to date on all that is being discussed."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Zaydan said with a bow, before backing away and turning, falling into step beside Marie-Fey. "You're insane, that's the only way to describe it. You say you feel fear, and I have seen you scared of the women of your court, but you clearly don't feel fear the way everyone else does. You're insane."

Marie-Fey smiled as they passed the threshold of the hall, the doors closing behind them.

"I wanted to make an impression," she said.

"I'd say you made an impression," Zaydan said, "But why?"

"It's harder to make me disappear if everyone knows I'm alive."