Lyla
A date.
Those words rang in my ears the entire way out of the palace. Javier led me around the back entrance Rashid and I had used all those nights ago to sneak around the palace and avoid prying eyes. He didn't say anything about it when we passed by it, not even to glance over at the innocuous door to acknowledge it was even there in the first place.
Had Hafsa come around on her own, or had Rashid called her out of spite—out of anger—at what had gone down between us?
I couldn't help but imagine it wasn't a coincidence. The timing was too perfect, and he'd made no indication to me this morning before I'd flipped out about her coming around.
So either he or his parents had called her over.
Either option made my blood boil. How petty was he?
I looked down at the grass, letting
