Page 86 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)
She and Hessa descended to the very belly of the city, where the sun’s reach faltered and the light dimmed to a golden gloom.
Here, at the base where the shadows ruled, the true heart of Madari beat.
Stalls of curiosities lined the streets, filled with peculiar goods that sparkled or hissed, smelt sweet or sharp, sold by traders bent and hunched with age.
Children darted through the crowds like wildfire, chasing one another through the maze, while cats lounged in the centre of the road like kings, sprawling in careless stretches as if they, too, belonged to the city’s ancient soul.
Alina took it all in with quiet awe, her senses alive with scent and colour and sound. It felt like stepping into another world entirely, a world that had thrived in secret, beneath stone and shadow.
She paused, her brows knitting in curiosity as a plume of vividly coloured smoke curled from a nearby doorway, perfumed and inviting.
Laughter spilt out in ribbons of sound, and women adorned in silks and jewels leaned against the entrance, their hands fluttering like butterflies as they beckoned her closer with coy smiles and kohl-lined eyes.
‘That,’ Hessa said with barely concealed amusement, ‘is a pleasure house, amira.’
Alina blinked. ‘A pleasure house?’
‘You’ve never heard of one?’ Hessa’s brow arched high, her grin growing wider. ‘Amira, you’re too pure. So untouched by the world.’
Alina frowned, glancing once more at the beautiful women. ‘We don’t have such things in my kingdom.’
Hessa let out a snort of laughter. ‘Oh, you most certainly do. All kingdoms have them, especially ones as… repressed as yours. Where else would drakonians indulge their secret whims?’
Alina opened her mouth to protest, only to close it again.
She bit her lower lip, a shadow of uncertainty crossing her features.
Had such places truly existed under her nose, kept from her by the heavy veil of royal protection?
Had she lived so sheltered a life that even something so basic had become foreign?
‘They were likely outlawed,’ Hessa said gently, sensing the shift in Alina’s mood. ‘Hidden in alleyways, whispered about but never named. It’s no wonder you didn’t know. Your ignorance was carefully crafted, amira. You were kept blind.’
‘No. It was I who chose the blindfold.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘I thought myself a prisoner to duty—balls, gowns, endless debates over which shade of silk was most regal. But I see now… I had power. I just never used it to look beyond the palace walls.’
Before she could sink deeper into regret, Hessa tugged her forward, drawing her back into the present with a playful glint in her eyes.
They wandered deeper into the bustling streets, the scent of spices and heat thick in the air.
Hessa insisted she try grilled lizard spiced within an inch of its life, and Alina’s tongue burnt as though kissed by flame.
Then came something else, “Chaaka”, Hessa called it, ordered from a crooked little stall wedged between two stone houses.
‘It is a Madari speciality,’ Hessa said, accepting two clay cups. ‘Thick, warm, and best drunk without breathing.’
‘What is it?’ Alina asked warily.
‘Do not ask.’ Hessa laughed, thrusting the drink into her hands.
It was a concoction of crimson and black, dense and faintly steaming. Alina pinched her nose as advised and took a tentative sip, only to gag moments later at the foul aroma.
‘That’s vile!’ she gasped, wiping her mouth.
‘But it feels divine, doesn’t it?’ Hessa teased, laughing so brightly it made Alina join in, if only through sheer delight at the sound.
Within minutes, a delicious warmth spread through Alina’s limbs, and the edges of the world seemed to soften and tilt ever so slightly. Her shoulders loosened, her thoughts quieted, and everything around her shimmered with an unfamiliar ease.
‘It is the Chaaka,’ Hessa explained with a knowing smile. ‘It makes you happy.’
Alina wasn’t entirely certain that happiness was the word she’d use for what coursed through her in that moment.
It was something more volatile, more consuming.
An ache born not of joy, but longing. Every sense narrowed to a single point of gravity: Hessa.
Her fingers found the desert princess’s, lacing together like vines seeking the sun.
Her skin burnt beneath the contact, alight with a yearning she had never known before.
Something must have shone in her eyes, some subtle shift, some unspoken truth finally bared because Hessa looked at her then with a startled softness, as though she’d glimpsed a signal long awaited or long abandoned.
The tour was over, though Alina could barely recall the journey back.
They ascended a winding, narrow street that snaked upward like a whisper through the mountain’s heart, Hessa guiding her with sure steps.
The city faded behind them—its colours, its noise, its lingering scent of spices—until they slipped through a weather-worn curtain and entered the Dunayans’ hidden refuge.
It was a modest place, shadowed and cool, carved into the stone with little regard for decoration.
A few scattered cushions lay on the floor, worn by use, and wooden tables stood lopsided with age, their surfaces etched with the stories of late-night card games and quiet laughter.
Doors branched off the central space, rooms whose occupants Alina did not know.
The one she’d awoken in, bathed in golden light through a carved slit of a window, was the only pocket that knew the sun.
Alina turned, about to ask why they had returned, but her words faltered the instant her eyes landed on Hessa.
The desert princess stood motionless, her expression unreadable, her chest rising and falling just a little too quickly. The space between them charged with breath and silence, with the tension of unsaid things. They stood like that, two threads pulled taut and trembling.
Alina understood.
This was a question, not a command. A moment held open like a door, waiting for her to step through. And Hessa, ever patient, would not move unless Alina did.
So Alina began to undress slowly, deliberately, each movement a quiet rebellion. She was weary of fear. Weary of silencing herself to please a world that had never made space for her truth. No longer would she let the judgement of others tether her spirit.
Hessa had seen her bare before on sun-drenched mornings, after long days of training, in pools and tents. But this time... this time was different.
Now Alina let herself be seen.
She did not shy away from the woman standing before her, did not cast her gaze downward in modesty or shame.
She held Hessa’s eyes, even as her cheeks flushed with heat, even as each robe slid from her shoulders and pooled at her feet.
Her breath came quick and shallow, her chest rising like the tide.
She stood unveiled and hornless, unmarred by disguise.
That which had once brought her shame was no longer hidden.
She wore it now with quiet defiance. If the world wished to stare, so be it.
She had eyes only for the one before her.
Words fell away, no longer needed.
Hessa’s smile bloomed soft and slow, a silent blessing. Then, without rush, she began to undress as well, each layer shed with care, mirroring Alina’s courage with her own.
The moment they stood together, stripped bare of cloth and inhibition, Alina parted her lips to speak, to ask, to beg, to be shown how to begin.
She did not know what to do, how to move, or what to offer.
But Hessa saw the uncertainty shimmering in her eyes and stepped forward, gathering Alina gently into her arms.
With a silent gesture, she guided her to the bed.
Alina sat obediently, her limbs trembling.
Not from fear alone, but from the heady mix of anticipation and wonder.
The room seemed to fall into reverent stillness as Hessa climbed into her lap, draping herself across her like a prayer.
Legs wrapped around waist, skin melting into skin.
Alina’s breath hitched as the reality of their closeness swept over her.
Her chest pressed to Hessa’s, breasts soft against breasts, the heat between their thighs sparking and simmering with every breath.
Overwhelmed, she looked up into those strange, luminous white eyes she had come to know better than her own reflection.
‘You look afraid,’ Hessa whispered, brushing her knuckles along Alina’s cheek.
‘I am,’ Alina admitted, her voice no louder than a breeze. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, betraying her nerves. ‘I’ve never… I don’t know what to do.’
Hessa tilted her head, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. ‘I doubt that very much, amira,’ she whispered.
And then she leaned in, close enough that their breath mingled, and took Alina’s bottom lip between her teeth, teasing it with a delicate tug.
Alina gasped, her entire body lurching in response to the sudden bloom of heat that surged through her belly, curling lower.
Her eyes widened with astonishment, not at Hessa’s touch, but at her own yearning, awakened and undeniable.
‘Are you certain?’ Hessa asked gently, brushing a loose strand of Alina’s hair behind her ear with the tenderness of a lover afraid to wake a dream. ‘Your body might still need to rest.’
‘I’m only ever certain of you,’ Alina whispered, her voice as soft as silk unfurling in moonlight. Before Hessa could answer, Alina closed the space between them and pressed her lips to hers.
The world fell away at once. Its burdens, its expectations, all dissolving into the quiet ache of longing answered. In that kiss, Alina forgot every choking fear, every doubt that had ever held her captive.
She had been told countless times of her beauty, spoken of like a painting admired from afar. Yet she had never believed it. Not truly. Not until now.