By the end of the training session, there were countless bruises and abrasions on Ife's body; they covered every inch of her skin and hurt so much that she couldn't even move without feeling another twinge of pain.

  "Remember this pain," Zafir said when she hissed from it again. "And next time, do everything you can to avoid it."

  The training ended at sunset, when the sun set below the horizon and literally flooded the palace rooms with its scarlet-gold light.

  Ife was about to leave when Zafir suddenly called out to her:

  "Wait."

  She turned to him and saw him holding out something shiny.

  "What—"

  "It's a gift from the Prince," the guard replied immediately.

  She looked closely: it was a gold ring in the shape of—

  When Ife realized what it was, she almost fell to the floor.

  In the light of the setting sun, a gold ring in the shape of a scorpion shone on her dusty hand.

  It was the very ring that Irai had never had time to give her.

  The very ring she dropped when someone hit her on the head, knocking her out.

  Now there was no doubt: Arenor was that person; the one who ordered her kidnapping; the one who hit her on the head, knocking her out; the one who planned and carried out the whole thing.

  Otherwise, why were both that man and the Prince unaffected by her divine power? There could only be one explanation: it was the same person.

  "What a bastard," said Ife, snatching the ring from the guard's hands.

  "Watch your language," warned Zafir, immediately understanding who she was talking about.

  But she didn't answer him; instead, she rushed to the place where, as she remembered, Pharaoh's private office was located, and where, according to the Prince himself, he had been spending a lot of time lately.

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  Another guard, Nasir, stood near the entrance to the office. When he saw her eyes fill with the familiar liquid gold, he blocked her path to the door with his body.

  "What—" he began, but was interrupted by Zafir.

  "Call Arenor here," he ordered, grabbing Ife by the shoulders and holding her in place, causing her to scream and struggle.

  "I'll kill him!"

  "But—" Nasir hesitated, but was interrupted again by his brother.

  "Immediately."

  In the end, Nasir had no choice but to obey. He didn't bother asking to enter, instead simply pushing the door open and stepping inside.

  "Let me go!" Ife screamed again.

  But instead of responding, Zafir only tightened his grip on her.

  When the Prince came out of the office, she struggled even harder in the guard's arms and screamed even louder:

  "You! It was you all along!"

  "What's going on?" Arenor asked wearily, glancing at Zafir, but he just shook his head as if to say, "I don't know." "What's wrong, Airena?" he redirected the question to her.

  "How could you?"

  "Please explain to me what—"

  "You ordered my kidnapping! You are responsible for my brother's death! You knocked me out! It was you! It was all you!”

  "I already told you, it wasn't—"

  "Then where did you get the ring? Where did you get—"

  "The ring?" Arenor clarified. "Ah, the ring. It was brought to the palace, along with you, by the only witness to what happened at the Night Bazaar. He—"

  "You're lying! It was you! Otherwise, why are you both immune to my divine power? Otherwise, why—"

  "Wait," interrupted the Prince, "are you saying that he is immune to your divine power? But how is that—"

  "And not a single question as to why he is immune to my divine power! You know perfectly well! Because all this time, it was you! It was—"

  "Quiet!" the Prince suddenly shouted, causing everyone to flinch and widen their eyes in shock; he almost never raised his voice, except when he was on the verge of losing control, and now even Ife, who didn't know him at all, understood that he was on the verge. "First, I didn't order your kidnapping. Second, I had nothing to do with your brother's death. Third, yes, I am guilty of giving you the ring only now, and under the guise of my own gift; but please note that I had no idea that this ring was yours, and that—"

  "How could you not know, if you were the only witness—"

  "It wasn't me," the Prince repeated once again.

  "Then who was it? Who was it that—"

  Arenor sighed wearily and, approaching Ife, shouted directly into her ear:

  "I don't know! I don't know who it was!"

  Her face contorted with pain, and Arenor felt a pang of guilt for treating her so harshly.

  "I'm sorry I yelled at you; you made me angry and I couldn't control myself."

  "But—"

  "But it's not your fault; I understand how difficult it is for you with all the emotional baggage you carry on your own," he said, rubbing his nose.

  "But—"

  "Let's continue this conversation inside," he said, walking back into the office.