"Hold it steady there until I get the chain secured!" Dastan called to the hoisting team on the ground. He climbed through the very opening where the temporary rope held the new counterweight, took the chain attached to the metal bracketing, and carefully began the assent up the chute, leaping from wall to wall using chinks in the masonry for leverage.

In the gatehouse, more men were ready with the permanent rigging already threaded into the gate mechanism, simply waiting to be connected to the counterweight. Dastan made one last jump that should put him within reach of the opening, when the chain went taut. His arm felt nearly pulled out of socket from the force, and he had to reflexively kick out into near-splits to prevent himself from falling. Several concerned voices responded to his surprised shout.

"Are you all right, Sire?" one made himself clear in the echoing din.

"Yes, I'm fine, don't worry," grunted Dastan. "Hoist team, we need more height to reach the top!"

The temporary rope, which only ran to a pulley system in the gatehouse, thrummed at his back as the counterweight rose toward him. Momentum lost, he was forced to find big enough hand- and footholds to climb the rest of the way at the pace of the team.

His fingers touched the open ledge at last. A hand grabbed his forearm, while another took the chain from him. The supervising commander pulled him out of the chute.

"You know, there were probably less dangerous ways to do that," the man commented, shaking his head.

"They wouldn't have been as fast, though—that's good enough, hold it there!" Dastan shouted the last part down below.

Once the chain had been thoroughly tied in to the permanent rigging, the whole gate mechanism was tested for balance. Piece by piece, Alamut's material defenses were being restored. One of the other workers passed Dastan a ladle from the water bucket. He drank all of it, then part of a second helping before dumping the rest over his bare head and shoulders to cool off. It must be after midday.

"Is this really how Persian princes spend their time?" a sharp, clearly female voice suddenly rang out. Every man in the room spun to face the speaker. Princess Tamina stood in the doorway with her royal entourage, eyebrow raised. The workers all dropped into bows. Dastan tilted a nod to her, and grabbed the tunic he had cast aside before making the climb.

"When there is serious work to be done, yes. Come to inspect the progress?" He couldn't resist a grin at her determination to ignore the half-dressed state in which she found him.

"Only when it is serious work. After all, it is my city. Do you fancy death defying stunts every chance that you get, or are you simply hoping they will impress me?"

Dastan stepped closer, still grinning cheekily but retaining a measure of respect. "Is that a touch of concern I hear?"

"I would prefer not to hear of someone falling or being crushed in one of those shafts, regardless of who they are. What on earth were you thinking?"

"That may the gates withstand the next thousand years, now that they're working again. I think we can agree I bear a certain responsibility for the damage sustained—"

"You mean all of it."

"—The least I could do is see to some of the repairs personally."

Tamina didn't respond to this at first, instead motioning with her head for Dastan to follow. They descended the stairs to street level. People stopped and bowed to the princess all along the way to the palace. Once they reached a quieter stretch, she broke her silence. "I thought you would want to know that King Sharaman arrived a short while ago. He wished to speak with each of you before the formal banquet tonight."

So you decided to come to fetch me yourself?

Dastan had to remind himself that this was not the same woman he had traveled and butted heads and begun to fall in love with. Not completely, anyway, not at this moment. In the aftermath since Nizam was thwarted, both he and Tamina barely had the chance to be in the same room. In Dastan's case, rebuilding gave him a bit of an escape until he could figure out how to approach her.

Give it time, it's only been a couple days, he chided himself silently. You just have to build up the connection again. Someday you'll tell her the whole story.

"Hopefully Father will approve of the engagement, given everything that has happened," was what he said out loud.

"He's not the only one with a say in the decision, Prince. Your king may be the final authority for Persia, but I am the one who speaks for the best interest of Alamut, and for myself."

"A duty you carry out magnificently, my apologies." Dastan was thrown for a moment by the possibility that she might not agree to a union. His people remained here as guests, and penitent ones at that. Tamina was under no obligation to accept the proposal. Neither was Persia in any position to demand it.

The princess continued to regard Dastan's odd manners toward her with veiled curiosity for the rest of the journey to the palace. Dastan couldn't blame her. He was in a truly unique situation. Tus and Garsiv had quickly tracked down Nizam's so-called spy, who confirmed the plot to justify taking control of Alamut, and even knew of the secretly maintained Hassansins. The man's account largely precluded Dastan from having to explain anything. Tus and Garsiv concluded that Nizam must have seen Alamut's independent standing as a means to slink out from under his brother's shadow at last, possibly even to challenge him. Dastan didn't want to correct this assumption just yet.

But he knew that Tamina had to suspect more. Of all people, she would understand the gravity of his dilemma. He just couldn't figure out how to say it, or if he even should. And he wasn't about to tell his brothers the truth without telling the princess first. The Sands were not his secret to tell. He owed her that, whether she ever learned of their past—future? Alternate lives?—or not. The rest was a guilt he would have to live with.

At any rate, the rigors of the morning seemed to be catching up with him. Perhaps a rest was in order, somewhere between meeting with his father and preparations for the evening…oh no, he still had to make preparations…

"Ah—Your Highness, if I could ask one favor," he blurted out, upon reaching the hallway that split off between the guest apartments and the private royal chambers. Tamina paused, waiting for him to elaborate. For some reason, this made Dastan abruptly self-conscious. "Well, um, with the events that precipitated the king's visit, and the consideration of marriage as a potential resolution, we—I—would do well to offer a tribute to both appease and honor my father. He is a man of great integrity, with the highest deference for your city."

"At least someone in Persia respects what is sacred," she replied firmly, though her tone was not harsh. "Are you asking me to show him high regard in turn, or to help you mitigate his displeasure in actions you shouldn't have taken in the first place?" She hovered on the edge of a smile, perhaps enjoying Dastan's predicament just a bit.

"Well…yes. Both, I suppose. It would go a long way toward a favorable arrangement of marriage, too. But you're absolutely right, the attack shouldn't have happened at all. That's why I'm trying to do everything I can to put the situation right. I can't turn back time—"

He shouldn't, anyway, and knew the effect his words would have on her.

"—What I can do is hold myself accountable, by whatever means necessary." He bowed his head. Honest regret tightened in his chest.

Tamina studied him. He could feel that piercing gaze even though his own eyes were downcast, as she considered what he said. Not for the first time, he marveled at the weight and wisdom she exuded in moments like this. As if her duty as a guardian elevated her far beyond her years. She took a deep breath. "I can help you in this matter, Prince Dastan."

Dastan underestimated the intensity of his relief, crashing over him with the force of a desert wind. So much so, in fact, that he briefly swayed on the spot.

"Are you all right?" Tamina asked. There was no mistaking the attentiveness in her voice.

"Just a rush of the head, it's already passing. Busy morning, as you know."

"Go, take some refreshment. I will meet with you soon. There is still much to do before the day is over." With a nod, Tamina took her leave.