Page 6 of Bound by Wishes (Enchanted Deceptions #1)

R anen's touch ignited a torrent of goosebumps that rippled up my arm as his grip tightened.

“Let me go.” A sharp hiss escaped through my clenched teeth as I grasped a carving knife.

“Do you intend on using that on me, sayyida?” Ranen’s eyes danced with a blend of excitement and anger.

Every muscle in my body tightened until I feared that they would snap under the pressure. “I will most certainly stab you if you do not let go of me.”

“You have spunk. Razoul will like that.” Ranen smiled down at me before ever so slowly releasing my arm. “Sit back straight in the chair. A princess never slouches.”

I wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his princess manners, but I bit my tongue and did as he asked. I had agreed to this, so I would endure his lessons for the time being, but if he grabbed me again without my consent, I would carve his lovely face in two. I refused to be manhandled.

Ranen took a step back, which was wise because I still had the hilt of the knife clenched in my sweaty palm. “No one eats until the king has been served and he grants permission to do so. Normally by a simple nod of his head.”

“You told me to eat,” I mumbled, setting the knife back on the table. “I guess chivalry is dead. What ever happened to ladies first?” I asked, delicately laying my hands in my lap. I wasn’t completely clueless when it came to fine dining. I had endured many fancy feasts. The museum liked to send me to talk to potential investors, hoping my feminine charm would help them shell out more money.

“No one is above the king,” he declared, his tone firm, as if it were an undeniable truth.

“So that explains your pompous behavior. Duly noted.” A hint of satisfaction tugged at my expression as I watched his cool, composed demeanor crack, giving way to a flicker of anger in his eyes. It was a small victory, but I relished the moment.

His jaw clenched for a moment before he regained control. “That attitude of yours is going to have to change,” he said smoothly, flipping everything back in his favor.

Something about those words made me see red. “Excuse me?” I’d give him a chance to choose better words before I let my temper shatter the fragile peace between us.

Ranen crossed his arms over his chest, a strange expression tugging at his features. “My kingdom is different than the world you are accustomed to,” he began slowly, like I might not be able to keep up with his words. “My family descends from an ancient bloodline of djinns. ”

I held up my hand, stopping him. “I’m confused. I thought the whole purpose of this princess makeover was to break the genie curse, but you’re telling me you’re djinns. What’s the difference?”

His smoldering eyes darkened, and the crease between his brow deepened, like my question insulted him.

“What?” I shrugged. “That’s not an illogical question. It’s not like we’re taught these things in school.”

At my words, some of the tension in him started to relax. “Djinns are very powerful immortal creatures who do not need masters.”

“Immortal?” My upper lip curled. “How old are you?”

Placing one hand on the table, he leaned in closer, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I surpass time itself, sayyida. Age is merely a trivial detail when you’re as timeless as I am.”

“Well, you look good for your age.” I laughed nervously, squirming in my seat. “Ugh, what am I saying?” I grumbled, placing my head in my hands. The dulling headache returned with a vengeance at the ridiculousness of this conversation.

Ranen blessedly allowed me a few moments to gather myself. I peered up at him. “Is everyone a djinn?”

“No,” he answered. “Only members of my family.”

With a sigh, I sat up straighter. “What does that have to do with my attitude?”

“Time is different once you enter the gates of my kingdom,” he clarified. “Time is slowed down to the pace in which we age, and therefore is very different from the modern world. ”

“So, we’re basically stepping back in time?” I asked. “Where women’s rights are nonexistent?”

His brow furrowed. “What are women’s rights?”

“My case in point.” I huffed, leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms over my chest. What did it matter? I was used to being treated like an object, just another pawn in a game played by men in power. I should refuse and return to my mundane life, but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that helping these people might somehow change the narrative, even if just a little. For once, someone needed more from me than pushing papers and getting coffee.

“I cannot promise that I’ll lose the attitude, but I will try for the people’s sake,” I said, sitting up straighter and folding my hands neatly in my lap again. “Luckily for you, I’m knowledgeable of old-world customs. What’s next?”

Ranen walked to the other end of the table, his smoldering eyes never leaving mine. With a smooth wave of his hand, the air hummed with magic as plates materialized before both him and me, piled with mounds of food.

With a deliberate and measured grace, Ranen brought the first morsel to his lips, savoring it with unnatural slowness. Meanwhile, my stomach rumbled loudly in protest, aching with hunger as he forced me to watch him eat. I held his gaze, refusing to react to his impolite display of dominance.

Ranen laid his fork down on the table, then reached for a napkin, his movements slow as a snail. With a subtle nod in my direction, he granted me permission to eat. I bared my teeth at him, hoping that he mistook the expression as a smile before picking up my fork and shoving a particularly juicy piece of chicken in my mouth .

Ranen tracked my every movement, just waiting for me to make a mistake. His scrutiny somehow soured my famished stomach. He seemed to be waiting—hoping—for me to do something wrong. “You’ve done this before,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “I assumed people of your caliber ate like pigs.”

“And I assumed a man proclaiming to be a king would have impeccable manners and poise.” I delicately set my fork down, leveling him with a glare. “Clearly, we both stand corrected.” I covered my mouth with my fingers. “Oops. There’s that pesky attitude again.”

His expression darkened as he slowly rose from his chair, and the air between us sizzled with tension. He came to a stop beside me, his towering presence looming over me. “You’re going to have to learn to watch your mouth. Smart comments like that will end with you beheaded,” he warned, leaning closer.

Every nerve in my body begged to shy away from his closeness, but something about this man made my blood boil. Defiance surged through me, keeping me rooted in place. “I would love to watch my mouth if my genie would be so kind as to provide me with a mirror,” I said, smiling up at him with exaggerated sweetness, batting my eyelashes for effect.

His jaw ticked as his eyes narrowed. “I’m afraid your haughtiness would crack it.” His chest rumbled with laughter, and his tone dripped with a sweet venom. His extra nastiness only fueled the fire smoldering inside me.

“My haughtiness?” I surged to my feet with such force that the chair clattered to the ground. In an instant, I was so close to him that his breath ghosted my skin .

His rich, smoky scent wafted over me, making me dizzy. The egotistical grin that spread across his face had me longing to tear his perfectly curved lips from his face.

I took a deliberate step back, struggling to steady my breathing and regain the attitude I flaunted so well.

“Come, we have a lot of work to do if we’re going to turn you into a princess,” he said smugly, looking down the bridge of his nose at me with a self-satisfied air.

Taking a deep breath, I tilted my gaze heavenward, praying for patience. “I may kill him before this is over,” I whispered under my breath, barely suppressing a growl as I reluctantly followed him into the clearing.

Ranen glanced over his shoulder, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “Are you ready, little sayyida?” His voice was teasing, laced with challenge.

“Oh, sure,” I said sarcastically, folding my arms in defiance. “Why wouldn’t I be ready to be turned into a princess and enter an ancient world run by power-hungry djinns?” The words sounded even more ridiculous when spoken out loud.

Ranen ignored my sour disposition, slapping his hands together with such force, the sound rattled my teeth like an explosion of thunder. Inky smoke rose up all around us.

“I hate it when you do this!” I yelled, having lost sight of him. “Can’t you be a little more subtle?”

“No,” Ranen’s voice was a whisper in my ear. He was so close the scruff of his stubble brushed against the shell of my ear.

I spun around, prepared to slap him soundly across the face, but he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. When the smoke settled, I stood in stunned silence, my mouth dropped open. He had conjured up a complete princess-making squad. Dressmakers stood ready to measure me, jewelers held out their treasures for me to see, and makeup and hair artists seemed eager to get to work on me.

“Where did all these people come from?” I asked, my eyes widening in awe as I took in the crowd surrounding us. I turned to him, only to find Ranen lounging lazily on a swirling black cloud of smoke, as if he had all the time in the world.

“They’re not real,” he assured me with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Just a figment of my imagination.”

“Well then, we’re all in trouble,” I mocked, narrowing my eyes at him. “Because nothing good could possibly come from your mind.”

His smirk widened at my jab, but I couldn't shake the eerie feeling of the ghostly figures watching us, their eyes glimmering like distant stars.

“Come, princess, allow me to fix your hair,” a beautiful woman with olive skin coaxed as she ushered me into a chair.

I settled in the seat, and she began to skillfully weave my hair into cascading curls, while another artist painted my face. I quickly became overwhelmed with so many hands touching me and others shoving clothes, shoes, and jewels in my face.

“Is all this really necessary? I’m getting a little overwhelmed. I don’t like to be touched.” My voice came out as more of a whine than intended.

“As a princess, you will have multiple servants. You will not be allowed to clothe, bathe, or groom yourself. In order to make this believable, you better get used to this now. If the servants in the palace suspect anything, you’ll be caught.” Ranen never looked my way as he continued his explanation. “As a princess, this should be common to you. You would’ve received this treatment from birth.”

I settled deeper into the chair, angered that he made a good point. “Who exactly am I supposed to be? You can’t just invent a new princess.”

“The princess of Lidian,” he answered smoothly.

“What?” I spun around in my chair, my pulse quickening. “Ouch!” I yelped as the lady behind me tugged on my tresses, urging me to stay still. “The invisible princess of Lidian? No one’s ever seen her, or even knows her name. Many doubt she even exists.”

“Exactly.” Ranen’s grin widened, revealing his pearly whites, a mischievous glint in his eyes as if were enjoying this far too much. “There is a mystery around her and that entire nation. That alone will intrigue Razoul.”

I reluctantly turned back to face the mirror as the makeup artist persisted with her work. “Why is this mystery princess suddenly going to come out of hiding?” I asked, my question muffled by a sneeze as a powder puff was shoved in my face, filling the air with a light cloud of dust.

“Why else? She needs to be wed, just as Razoul does. Bloodlines die without an heir,” he answered.

“You have this all figured out, don’t you?” I asked, my chest tightening with the realization that I was merely a pawn in his carefully constructed plan.

Ranen’s expression darkened, and his voice deepened, dripping with unspoken anger. “I’ve had plenty of time to plot my revenge.” He said each word slowly, as if savoring the taste of his long-held anger.

Something within me snapped, the pressure of the day finally bubbling over inside of me. Playing the part of some mystery princess was one thing, but revenge? That sounded like a disaster waiting to happen—with me right in the middle of it. If he was out for revenge, I wanted no part of that.

I turned in my chair, gesturing for the hairstylist to cease pulling at my hair. “You never said anything about revenge. You asked me to help you regain your kingdom and save the Canaari people.”

“It’s the same thing,” Ranen said dismissively.

I watched him for a long while, studying him before I tried to dig deeper into who he was. “How long were you in the lamp?”

Silence stretched on, the only sounds the distant chattering of the servants.

“Five hundred years,” he growled.

I hated to admit it, but I felt a flicker of sympathy for him, no matter how infuriating he was. I would be upset too if someone had trapped me in a tiny lamp for five hundred years.

“Turn back around, princess. I am almost done.” The makeup artist grasped my chin gently, dipping a delicate paintbrush into a tiny glass bottle. With precision, she applied a hue to my lips, a shade somewhere in between flame red and deep burgundy. “Done!” she announced proudly.

“Now to the clothes.” Ranen gestured toward a tent without ever looking at me .

I rose from the chair slowly, my trepidation morphing into bitterness. I had gone from one world, where men dictated every move and women were expected to play their assigned roles, to another. My father, however, had always seen me as different. He treated me with respect, never once telling me I couldn’t do something because I was a woman. I smiled at the memory of him taking me to dig sites, both of us covered in dirt from head to toe as we unearthed pieces of the past together. I felt valued, not just as his daughter, but as an equal. That respect shaped my view of what I could become, and I refused to lose that now. Whether it be men or djinns, I would not be controlled.

My resolve tightened as I stepped into the tent, where flaming lamps lit the space in a warm glow. My bare feet glided over the intricate soft rug, and I glanced at the extravagant clothing. The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, filled with clothes that looked too fine to touch. Silken fabrics hung from silver hooks, their rich jewel tones blending with shimmering metallic threads. As the light danced across the fabrics, the room seemed to come alive with a twinkling sparkle. I had never seen anything like it, another reminder that I didn’t belong here.

I reached out to touch the fabric of a ruby-red skirt embroidered with a delicate feather pattern only to find that it was softer than I could have imagined.

“Good choice, princess.” A voice rose from the shadows, stopping my hand midair.

An elderly woman ventured from the darkness, pulling the skirt from the hook and holding it up closer for me to see. I marveled at the beadwork that made the skirt look like it was alive when the light hit it just right .

She helped me step into the skirt, which cinched tightly above my belly button. It was a perfect fit, as if it were made just for me. Then she helped me slip into the matching crop top, its sweetheart neckline and delicate capped sleeves adding a touch of elegance to the outfit. She helped me drape a matching sheer veil over my face, delicately covering my lips and nose with a whisper-light touch.

“You are ready,” she announced, holding open the tent flap so I could slip back through.

Ranen’s eyes met mine just as soon as I was out in the opening. “Maybe there is hope for you yet,” he said, descending from his throne of clouds and stopping before me.

“Is that a compliment?” I asked, batting my lashes in what I assumed was playful and flirtatious.

“Hardly,” he sneered, his lips curling into a twisted smile that sent a chill through me. “Now, we have to do something about that.”

“What?” I asked, my brows knitting together in confusion. I could feel the tension creeping in, thickening the silence between us.

He looked down his smug nose at me. “Whatever that is you keep doing with your eyes,” he said, voice thick with mockery. “If that’s your idea of flirting, we have a lot more work to do than I originally thought.”

He watched me intently, his scrutiny making my hackles rise.

“You intend on teaching me how to flirt?” I sputtered, barely able to process his words as they settled in. The disbelief in my voice didn’t hide the faint spark of embarrassment rising within me .

He turned back around, angling his perfectly toned body toward me with the grace of someone who knew the effect he had. “From what I’ve seen, you need a lot of help in that field,” he said with a smirk on his lips as sharp as a blade.

“I didn’t agree to flirting,” I argued. The mere thought filled me with dread, and I broke out in a cold sweat.

“Come now,” he coaxed. “I’m a good teacher.”