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“Such an outfit would not be worthy of a meeting with my lord.”

“It was good enough for my birthday.”

“Happy belated birthday, Mr. Diamante.”

“It’s…dammit.” I catch a glimmer in his eye. Smug little shit. “Your lord is about to have a meeting with the back of my hand…”

“That would be most inappropriate, sir.”

“So is your mustache, Cheech.”

“Ahmed,” Vanya interjects before I can pummel the tiny man, “will clothing be provided for us?”

“Clothes will be provided.” He nods, blinking slowly at me like I’m a dullard.

“Thank you. You are dismissed, unless you can answer any of my questions.”

“That would be…”

“Most inappropriate.Da. I get it.”

“I will return when the time comes. Until then, you are asked to remain here.”

“Asked, huh?”

“Consider it a strong suggestion.”

“I’ve got a few of those myself. Is there a comment card I can fill out?”

He bows again before leaving, his eyes meeting mine for a split second. A flicker of movement at his waist catches my eye. But he’s gone before it processed.

“He just…that motherf?—”

“Shakal.”

“He flipped me off!”

“I am sure you imagined it. He is an elite assistant to a…king.” Vanya waves her hand in a circle, gesturing to our surroundings.

“Ghandi is playing dirty.”

Vanya busies herself for a while stretching, warming up. Smart.

I join her for part of it, but I’m too restless. This whole situation has me on pins and needles. Pacing the balcony and snacking from our endless buffet of culinary wonders, I do a double take when I come back in to find Vanya dressed and bathed.

She looks stunning in the vibrant colors of the flowing gown.

It covers more than I would prefer on her, but I can’t look away. Apparently, they also provided makeup. Hair products.

“Go shower. It is almost time.”

I do, rushing through the motions.

Ten minutes later, I’m fidgeting by the door like a British kid waiting for daddy to come home. Only I look more like a high school performance ofJesus Christ Superstar.

I swear they gave her a real outfit and got mine fromWish.

When Ahmed comes for us, I keep my thoughts to myself in a rare show of self-restraint. Mostly because I need time to absorb. To plan.