CHAPTER ONE

The water pitcher hit the floor and shattered.

"You stupid girl!" my stepmother Salma screamed. "Look what you've done!"

I stared at the broken clay pieces scattered around my feet. The water pooled on the stone floor, nowhere near the fancy tablecloth she was pointing at.

"I'm sorry, mistress," I said quietly, keeping my eyes down.

"Sorry? You're always sorry." Salma grabbed another pitcher from the breakfast table. "You're as useless as your dead mother."

My chest tightened at the mention of my mother, but I didn't let it show. Three years she'd been gone. Three years of living under Salma's cruelty.

"She really is hopeless, Mother," my half-sister Nadine said, smiling as she ate her breakfast dates. She loved watching Salma torment me.

My half-brother Rashid just polished his new sword and said nothing. He never did.

I knelt down to pick up the broken pieces, letting my long hair fall forward to hide my face. More importantly, to hide the birthmark on my left temple. The red crescent-shaped mark that Salma called a curse.

That's when Salma kicked me.

Pain shot through my ribs. I caught myself with my hands, but my sleeve slid up my arm.

Salma saw the scars there. Small white lines on my forearm.

She grabbed my wrist and yanked it up. "What are these? What have you been doing?"

My heart pounded. Those scars were from my secret training. Every night after the household fell asleep, I practiced with a wooden sword in the abandoned courtyard. I'd been teaching myself to fight for two years.

"Nothing, mistress. I just..."

"You lying little..."

The door burst open.

One of our guards rushed in, out of breath. "Mistress Salma! The governor's men are coming. They're searching all the houses on this street."

Salma let go of my arm. "What? Why?"

"There was an attack last night. On Prince Louis and his men. The northern road. They're looking for anyone who saw something."

I went cold. I had heard something last night. Swords clashing. Men screaming. Horses running. I'd watched smoke rise in the distance from my tiny window until the sun came up.

"Khalifa," Salma snapped at me. "Go to the kitchen. Cover your hair and that ugly mark. If anyone asks about you, you've been sick in bed for three days. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Go. Now."

I gathered the broken pottery pieces and hurried out. But I didn't go to the kitchen. Instead, I went down a narrow hallway to the back of the house. There was a crack in the eastern wall that I'd found two years ago. Just big enough for me to squeeze through.

I could hear Salma shouting at Nadine to put on her best dress and Rashid to wear his officer's uniform. She wanted to look good for the governor's men.

I slipped through the crack in the wall and into the alley behind our house.

The morning market was busy and loud. Everyone was talking about the attack. I pulled my headscarf low over my face and listened as I walked past the stalls.

"The prince's entire guard was killed."

"They say it was an ambush."

"Prince Louis barely escaped alive."

"They brought the wounded to the garrison house."

I stopped at a spice merchant's stall and pretended to look at his saffron.

"Terrible thing," the merchant said, shaking his head. "Twenty good men dead. And the prince himself is wounded."

"Do they know who did it?" I asked softly.

"That's what the governor wants to find out. Some say it was rebels. Some say assassins from another kingdom." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "They took Prince Louis to the garrison house. Just down the street there."

I bought a small bag of cardamom with coins I'd been saving and walked away.

The garrison house. I knew where that was. A big stone building near the eastern gate where soldiers stayed.

I should go home. This was none of my business.

But when would I ever get a chance like this? To see something beyond these streets? To see the world my father used to tell me about before he died?

I walked around the garrison house twice, looking for a way in. Finally I found a back entrance with just one young guard. He looked distracted, worried about something.

I grabbed an empty basket from outside a baker's shop and walked up to him.

"Delivery," I said quietly. "Medicine for the wounded."

He barely looked at me. "Second courtyard. Straight through."

It was that easy.

Inside, everything was chaos. Soldiers ran past me carrying bloody bandages. Doctors shouted orders. The smell of blood filled the air. I stayed in the shadows and walked through like I belonged there. Then I saw him in the second courtyard. Prince Louis himself. He looked younger than I expected, maybe twenty-five years old. Tall, with dark hair and strong features. A white bandage wrapped around his left shoulder, already soaking through with blood.

"It wasn't random," the prince said angrily to the men around him. "They knew exactly which carriage I would be in. They knew our route."

"Your Highness, please rest," an older man in a military uniform said.

"I don't need rest! I need to know who betrayed us!" The prince hit the stone wall with his good hand. "Someone told them where I would be. Someone close to my father."

"My prince, you can't accuse people without proof," the military man said carefully.

"I watched my men die, Commander. I watched the attackers ignore the decoy carriages and come straight for mine. That's not luck. Someone told them which one was mine."

I pressed myself behind a stone pillar, trying to stay hidden. This was dangerous information. Talk of traitors and betrayal.

"So who benefits if you die?" a woman's voice asked.

I peeked around the pillar. A woman in dark riding clothes stood near the prince. She had a scar on her face and sharp, intelligent eyes.

"Lady Amara, be careful what you say," the Commander warned.

"Why? We're all thinking it." She crossed her arms. "Your brothers both want the throne. Prince Khalid has friends in the southern provinces. Prince Nasir has the army's support. If you die, Your Highness, one of them becomes heir."

"My brothers wouldn't kill me," Prince Louis said, but he didn't sound sure.

"Your brothers are ambitious. Ambitious men do terrible things."

The prince was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Find everyone who knew our travel plans. Question every guard, every servant, every advisor. I want names by tonight."

"That could be fifty people or more," the Commander protested.

"Then question fifty people."

I knew I should leave. I'd heard too much. But I couldn't make myself move.

"There's something else, Your Highness," Lady Amara said quietly. "The attackers stole something. Your royal seal."

Everyone went silent.

"They took my seal?" The prince's face went white. "With that seal, they could..."

"They could give orders in your name. Move troops. Take money from the treasury. Arrest people. Yes." Lady Amara looked grim. "We need to tell your father the king immediately."

"No," Prince Louis said firmly. "If there's a traitor close to my father, telling him means telling our enemy. We handle this quietly."

A hand grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth. I didn't think. I just reacted. I drove my elbow back hard into whoever held me. They let go and I twisted free. A guard stumbled back, surprised. I ran.

"Stop her!" someone yelled.

I sprinted across the courtyard, but there were too many of them. Strong hands caught me and dragged me back. They forced me down onto my knees in front of Prince Louis.

He looked down at me, his eyes narrow and suspicious. "Who are you? Who sent you here?"

I kept my head down, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst. "No one, Your Highness. I'm nobody."

"Nobody doesn't sneak into a military garrison." He nodded at one of the guards. "Take off her headscarf."

"No, please don't..."

The guard ripped the scarf from my head. Sunlight hit the left side of my face. Hit my birthmark. The entire courtyard went completely silent.

"Gods above," someone whispered.

Prince Louis stepped closer. He stared at my temple, at the red crescent moon mark that everyone said was a curse.

"What's your name?" His voice was different now. Quieter. More dangerous.

"Khalifa."

"Khalifa," he repeated slowly. "Do you know what that mark on your face means?"

I finally looked up and met his eyes. "My father told me it was a promise."

"A promise of what?"

Before I could answer, Lady Amara made a shocked sound. "Your Highness. That mark. I've seen it before. In the ancient books. In the old histories."

"Tell me," Prince Louis commanded.

Lady Amara hesitated. Then she said the words that changed my life forever: "It's the Mark of the Warrior Moon. The mark of the lost royal bloodline."