Page 7 of Bound by Wishes (Enchanted Deceptions #1)

I walked away, pausing when the sound of her footsteps didn’t follow. Turning, I found her standing still, her lips opening and closing in silence, like a fish gasping for air.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I spread my arms wide, fully aware of her eyes roaming over me. "Seduce me," I commanded.

“I beg your pardon?” Her red-stained lips finally formed words. “I am not going to seduce you.”

When I made all the servants vanish and it was just the two of us again, she glanced around, looking more uncomfortable.

I stepped toward her only to have her take a timid step back. If I couldn’t break through this schoolgirl shyness, this would never work. “There will be more than one noble woman vying for Razoul’s attention. You have to at least be minor competition to keep from being thrown from the palace.”

Caleena bit down on her lower lip, the delicate action immediately drawing my gaze to the soft curve of her mouth. Her wide, doe-like eyes were filled with innocence and fear, the kind that made her seem fragile, vulnerable—impossible to resist. My fingers itched to reach out, to trace her trembling lip or cup her flushed cheek.

"That," I breathed, my voice low with unwanted desire. "Whatever you're doing right now. Do that."

She stilled, her breath catching as confusion flickered across her face. "What am I doing?”

"That innocence," I murmured, my gaze lingering on her wide eyes. "We’ll use that. It’s powerful, but you’ll still need to know how to flirt, how to catch Razoul’s attention."

Her hesitation was clear, her lips parting as if to protest, but she held back. She had no idea the weapon she could become, how that delicate innocence could lure even the most guarded heart. Caleena’s cheeks stained crimson, nearly rivaling the color of her lips.

I turned away from her. "Confidence is key. Unlike in your world, where you can simply approach someone you’re interested in, that’s not how things work in my kingdom. Approaching the king without being summoned is forbidden." When she remained silent, I pressed on. "That means you’ll have to earn his attention, draw him in, make him want to call you forward. Only then can you step into his world."

Caleena exhaled. “How?”

“Lock eyes with him from across the room and hold his gaze until you have his full attention. A lingering glance can be a powerful way to show you’re interested in him.” I turned back toward her, purposely locking eyes with her. “Use subtle gestures to catch his attention, like a playful wave or a coy smirk.” I demonstrated with a sly smile lifting one corner of my mouth, and Caleena stood up taller. “Use your body language to signal your interest, like licking your lips or playing with your hair. But don't overdo it,” I warned, raking my finger through my hair, never allowing my eye contact to waver. Caleena stepped closer, already caught in my snare. “Then once you have his attention, be indifferent.” I broke eye contact then, slightly angling my body away from her. I suppressed a smile when she moved closer.

“Do you really think that will work?” she asked, stopping next to me.

“It made you come over, didn’t it?” A wicked grin crept across my face as her expression contorted with anger. “Now you try it.”

With a blink of my eyes, I created a makeshift throne room bustling with nobles, officials, dancers, and servants. The noise was nearly deafening, just like I remembered. As I settled onto my old familiar throne, a sense of anticipation coursed through me. Soon, very soon, this would all be mine again.

I cast a fleeting glance to where Caleena was standing, refusing to give her my full attention until she had earned it. Her eyes widened as she absorbed the commotion of the throne room.

“This is ridiculous, Ranen,” she whined.

I whispered in her mind above the bustle of the throne room. “You wanted to help save the Canaari people. This is how we do that. ”

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye as she stood up taller and began to circle the perimeter of the room. I purposely ignored her, focusing instead on the dancers.

A loud crash brought my head back around. Caleena stood with a feigned look of innocence on her face as the contents of a punch bowl, a vibrant concoction of fruit and spirits, seeped across the pristine marble floor.

“You said to get your attention.” She innocently shrugged.

When I remained silent, the mischievous gleam in her chestnut eyes held my attention longer than I cared to admit. As she ran her hand through her hair, just as I had shown her, it caught on the veil delicately draped over her head. She jerked her hand free, sending the veil gliding through the air, the fabric floating softly before settling gently onto the floor.

I pinched the bridge of my nose to ward off an impending headache known as Caleena. “Well, you definitely have my attention, but not in a good way.” I huffed, rising from the throne. “Tell me, ya amar. What other havoc will you cause to my throne room?”

“I’m sure I could think of something if you give me a minute.” Her smile was as conniving as it was sweet.

I waved my hand dismissively. “Try again. That display would get you thrown out of the palace, not an invitation to be one of the king’s marriage candidates.”

“I don’t want to try again.” She stepped forward, and I could feel aggravation and anger radiating from her like a roaring fire. “I can’t take it anymore. Do you know how maddening it is to have your entire world shattered in a single day, only to be thrust into things you never even imagined could exist?”

The cuffs around my wrists began to glow hot red, burning my skin. Intense pain shot through me, and I clenched my teeth, struggling to suppress the guttural growl that threatened to escape. My sayyida was angry with me, and the magic was punishing me for not making her happy and fulfilling her every wish.

I straightened, schooling my ire, and spoke in a softer tone. “My country and I need your help.” I was begging, or it sounded like it to me. Each word clawed its way out, tasting disgustingly bitter.

Her shoulders slumped. “I’m tired, Ranen, and my head feels like it’s in a vise. I can’t take anymore today. I want to return to my camp and rest.”

The burning at my wrists eased slightly as her anger turned to desperation. “You can’t go back to your camp. No one can know that you are alive.”

Her anger flared. “What?” she demanded.

The cuffs ignited into a brighter shade of red, and I clenched my teeth as the scalding pain intensified. “We can’t exactly tell everyone what we’re doing. It would be best if everyone believed you dead…at least for now.”

“But my friends and family.” She paused, mulling over my words. “I can’t put them through that.”

“It’s too risky.” I snarled through the pain that nearly forced me to my knees.

Caleena eyed me up and down. “What’s wrong with you?”

My tongue jumbled as I tried to say nothing . I couldn’t lie to my master no matter how badly I wanted to, especially when she asked me a direct question. “You are angry with me.” I answered as vaguely as possible.

Caleena stepped closer, and her anger subsided slightly, bringing with it a small measure of relief. “You’re telling me that as your master, you’re punished when I am angry with you?”

"Yes," I hissed, the word escaping between my tightly clenched teeth.

“Interesting.” She began to circle me like a vulture. “You’re in for a world of hurt then because everything about you makes me angry.”

“I promise once you help me find the book and reverse what Razoul has done, I will take you back to your camp myself,” I assured her.

She considered me for a moment, feigning indifference like I had shown her in our little flirting lesson, but I could tell by the waning pain at my wrists that her anger was subsiding.

“Fine,” she conceded, her voice weary. “But I’m done for the day. I’m exhausted and need a place to lie down.”

Once my wrists no longer felt like they were on fire, I straightened. “Very well, sayyida.”

Smoke danced at my command, the throne room dissolving into tendrils of darkness. It was replaced by a tent fit for royalty. Caleena walked over to it, running her fingers down the canvas spun with threads of black and silver.

“You don’t have to show off on my account. I’d just be happy not sleeping on the ground.” As she turned, her gaze met mine, ignited by the flickering flames of the torches. Each glimmer cast shadows across her features, accentuating the contours of her face. I shook my head. I’d been in that lamp for too long. “I’m used to roughing it,” she added.

“I’m trying to get you used to the lavish lifestyle,” I answered, exasperated.

“That’s going to take a lot of work,” she huffed. “We weren’t exactly poor. My father earned well as an archaeologist, but moving from dig site to dig site meant we were far from accustomed to comfortable living. A tent was our standard housing, and a cot and running water were a rare blessing.” She offered a fleeting smile, but it quickly faded as she caught the intensity of my gaze.

“Your father is an archaeologist too?” I asked, vaguely intrigued.

“Was,” she clarified, her tone softening. “He passed away a few years ago.”

The sadness in her eyes made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to people speaking openly to me. Most were too afraid to speak to me at all, let alone tell me of their families and tragedies.

“What about your mother?” I asked, trying to figure out why I was pressing the conversation.

“I never knew my mother,” she said with a shrug and pulled open the tent flap, starting to step inside. But when she noticed me following, she stopped and gave me a look over her shoulder. “What do you think you're doing?” she asked, blocking the entrance.

“Just checking the tent to make sure no snakes are slithering around,” I said with a rakish grin. “I’d hate for my sayyida to get bitten by a viper.”

I quickly recovered from my momentary shock, masking the unfamiliar sting of rejection. As king, I was used to having women vie for my attention, not turning me away.

She placed her palm on my chest, stopping me from going any further. My gaze followed to where her hand rested on top of my muscles. They flinched under her touch, and my grin widened. She snatched her hand away like she’d touched a furnace.

“I can handle snakes. I’ve been dealing with them my entire life,” she replied. The sharpness in her voice and the intensity in her eyes suggested that she wasn’t talking about the ones that slithered but the ones that walked upright.

“Very well, ya amar. If you need anything, just call me.” I stepped closer, and she backed further into the tent, using the shadows within as a shield.

“I won’t need anything,” she snapped, snatching the flap of the tent closed and securing the ties, locking me out.

I turned to leave, searching for another place to sleep for the night. I refused to return to my lamp, even though the inky dark thing beckoned me.

“And don’t call me your moon,” she grumbled from the other side of the tent.

“As you wish, sayyida,” I replied, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth as I gave a playful bow.

I heard her mumbling to herself, followed by the rustling of blankets. Stepping away to give her some privacy, I found a particularly uncomfortable tree trunk to lean against. The stars above caught my attention, and I marveled at their brilliance. A deep, velvety black stretched in all directions, speckled with countless stars. I hadn’t realized how much I missed simple pleasures like this until I spent so many years trapped in that lamp .

I hadn’t heard a sound coming from the tent for a while. Was she finally asleep? I approached it slowly and peered through the slit in the entrance. She was sleeping peacefully, her breathing slow and steady, each rise and fall of her chest a gentle lull. Her dark, flowing hair spread out around her like a silken halo, catching the gentle glow of firelight that flickered from the lanterns.

I cautiously glanced around, aware that I couldn’t stray far from her side for long. But I would have to risk it since I needed to do some scouting to determine when the other marriage prospects would arrive. According to the scroll, they had already been summoned, which meant I was running on borrowed time. I hoped the magic would behave for a little while without it annoyingly calling me back to her.

I whisked myself to the city’s edge, surprised by the commotion at this hour. Tents, caravans, and fires stretched for miles. Curses! They were already here. Each royal family with a daughter to offer was camped outside the city gates, awaiting their summons. Their banners flew high, proudly showcasing their lineage. The kingdoms on display were nothing short of impressive, raising the stakes for the impossible task of turning a pauper into a princess. Aggravation knotted between my shoulder blades. Even a genie couldn’t pull off this kind of miracle.