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Zusatztext 41780418 Informationen zum Autor Renée Ahdieh is a graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. In her spare time, she likes to dance salsa and collect shoes. She is passionate about all kinds of curry, rescue dogs, and college basketball. The first few years of her life were spent in a high-rise in South Korea; consequently, Renée enjoys having her head in the clouds. She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her husband and their tiny overlord of a dog. The Rose and the Dagger is the sequel to her #1 New York Times bestselling debut novel, The Wrath and the Dawn . Klappentext The #1 New York Times bestselling sequel to the breathtaking bestseller The Wrath and the Dawn "A satisfying fast-paced conclusion, Ahdieh explores the difficulty of family, lasting loyalty, and love giving you a tale you won't soon forget."--InStyle In a land on the brink of war, Shahrzad has been torn from the love of her husband Khalid, the Caliph of Khorasan. She once believed him a monster, but his secrets revealed a man tormented by guilt and a powerful curse-one that might keep them apart forever. Reunited with her family, who have taken refuge with enemies of Khalid, and Tariq, her childhood sweetheart, she should be happy. But Tariq now commands forces set on destroying Khalid's empire. Shahrzad is almost a prisoner caught between loyalties to people she loves. But she refuses to be a pawn and devises a plan. While her father, Jahandar, continues to play with magical forces he doesn't yet understand, Shahrzad tries to uncover powers that may lie dormant within her. With the help of a tattered old carpet and a tempestuous but sage young man, Shahrzad will attempt to break the curse and reunite with her one true love. PROLOGUE The girl was eleven and three-quarters. Three very important quarters. They’d been of consequence when her father had left her in charge this morning, with an important task to accomplish. So, with a world-weary sigh, she pushed up her tattered sleeves and heaved rubble into the nearby wheelbarrow. “It’s so heavy,” her eight-year-old brother complained, as he struggled to move a piece of debris from their home. He coughed when a cloud of soot rose from the charred remains. “Let me help.” The girl dropped her shovel with a clang . “I didn’t say I needed help!” “We should work together, or we won’t finish cleaning everything before Baba returns home.” She braced her fists on her hips while glaring down at him. “Look around you!” He threw his hands in the air. “We’ll never finish cleaning everything.” Her eyes followed his hands. The clay walls of their home were ripped apart. Broken. Blackened. Their roof opened up to the heavens. To a dull and forlorn sky. To what once had been a glorious city. A midday sun lay hidden behind the shattered rooftops of Rey. It cut shadows of light and dark across angry stone and scorched marble. Here and there, smoldering piles of rubble served as a harsh reminder of what had taken place only a few short days ago. The young girl hardened her gaze and stepped closer to her brother. “If you don’t want to work, then wait outside. But I’m going to keep working. Someone has to.” Again, she reached for her shovel. The boy kicked at a nearby stone. It skittered across the packed earth before crashing to a halt at the foot of a hooded stranger standing by the remains of their door. Tensing her grip on the shovel, the girl eased her brother behind her. “May I help you . . . ?” She paused. The stranger’s black rida’ was embroidered in silver and gold thread. The scabbard of his sword was finely etched and delicately bejeweled, and his sandals were cut from the highest-quality calfskin. He was no mere brigand. The girl stood taller. “May I help you, sahib ?” When he did not an...
