Al’Namir and I sat adjacent to each other in the throne room, playing a game of Chon as Asad watched over my shoulder. Ever since my encounter with Jamila at the Alwathi’s villa, I didn’t want to go near Hala. It had almost been a month straight of narrowly avoiding her, and every time she thought she saw me she’d call out incessantly. I was lucky to have a hiding spot close by on several occasions as she followed after me. Namir had finally managed to pry the experience out of me during the game, having grown concerned as to why her daughter was forced to be escorted by Asad everywhere.


    “Don’t be ridiculous, Idris.” Namir scoffed. “You worked your way towards going to such events, proving yourself to be a dependable guardian of Hala’s. She was right—you’re just as much a noble as they are. Better, even—you’re the guard of royalty.”


    I bristled at his words, finding them far too kind for a boy of my status. Jamila was right—I was nothing more than a peasant boy who had been taken on as a charity case by the Royal Family. My face must have given away my thoughts, because Namir spoke once more with a tone I had only heard directed at disobedient Courts-men.


    “If you think so poorly of yourself: how do you view my wife, then?”


    My blood ran cold, and my eyes met Al’Namir’s. The green in them seemed fiery, daring me to speak ill of the Queen in his presence. I felt in no way comparable to Al’Haya, as it was Al’Namir who sought her out while she worked at a farm owned by a noble family in the Northeast. I was the one who sought Hala out, asking to come visit her in the palace. Had I not mentioned it, I most likely would have been forgotten by the Princess forever.


    “Al’Haya is royalty, Your Highness. In no way are we similar.”


    “I disagree, Skwayar.” Namir insisted. “She used to pout similarly to how you do now, and confided in my father that she was undeserving of her title as my betrothed.”


    “I am not a part of the Royal Family, Your Highness.” I replied as I set a King down on the board and took three of Namir’s tiles.


    “Aren’t you?” He asked, shifting in his seat and placing down an Archduke—five tiles gone, and an Imperial Knight was sat down beside the Archduke. 18 of my pieces gone, as soon as I’d placed them.


    I wanted to tell him ‘no.’ But Namir would never admit that I wasn’t kin to him. I appreciated all that he and his wife had done for me, as they treated me like a son, but I felt that God had misguidedly bestowed me fortune, instead of giving it to someone much more deserving than I. I’d never admit, though, that I felt such a way. I touched my cheek, thinking about where to place the next tile in my hand as I thought about it all. Just as I’d found a good place for my tile, my train of thought was broken. The sound of the throne room’s doors hitting the wall echoed through the room, and I furrowed my brows as I looked to the doorway. An enraged Thueban stood at the entry with the Second-In-Command of the Sixth Battalion’s arm slung around his shoulders. He dragged the man into the throne room, letting him fall to the ground and splaying his hands out to show off the man’s condition.


    “My God…” Namir muttered as he stood from the Chon board. “What happened? Who did this?” He asked, taking four long strides towards Hamza.


    “Tavuk’s lapdog.” Thueban chuffed, his face contorted with disdain.


    “Thueban.” Namir repeated, locking eyes with the Captain. “We have little time for petty names. Who was responsible for this?!”


    I was alarmed by Namir’s voice when he was like this. The bass of it boomed through the room and rattled the ground. I’d only ever seen him in such a state of alarm once, when Hala had been injured after falling off of a horse when riding with Asad. Thueban was lucky to not be kin in that moment, because when it was Asad on the receiving end of such a cadence; he was met with a fist to the gut. Pushing the memory out of my mind, I looked at Hamza and his pained expression. I’d never seen him so weak, and lacking vigor. A stab wound sat just above his liver, bleeding profusely.


    “Shahin, you brute!” Thueban barked. “Who do you think?!”


    Double lucky to not be kin. Namir would have pummeled Thueban to the ground, if so. Instead, the King clenched his fists by his sides and gritted his jaw as he took in the sight of blood staining his favorite carpet. His words jarred me, coming out as a growl rather than his usual speaking voice.


    “Do you realize what you’re saying?” He asked. “You’d better have a good story to back this up.”


    The King looked over to me, and I knew immediately what to do. He was telling me to fetch medical aid for Hamza, and I left in two breath’s time. I rushed through the halls, hearing Thueban begin to explain what happened to the Second-in-Command even from a distance away, trying not to burst into a full sprint to the infirmary. I didn’t want to alarm the other residents of the palace, despite the trail of blood leading to the throne room. It would take me no more than two minutes to get to the closest infirmary, and fetch a doctor. Another two minutes to return with him in tow. He could tell something was wrong, seeing me worried for the first time. He walked swiftly despite his age, falling into step beside me as we made our way through the halls with an air of urgency. Upon entry the doctor quickly went to work, checking Hamza’s wound for signs of infection and cutting away his shirt. By the time the doctor was observing the swollen laceration, Thueban was wrapping up the recount of the events leading up to Hamza’s injury.


    “You should have seen his face when I told him he wasn’t allowed back into the Kingdom, Namir.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips.


    “You what?”


    Namir’s arms folded across his chest, and he shifted on his feet as he towered over the Captain. Thueban grew a bit nervous, but his eyes remained steady on His Highness.


    “I told him he wasn’t getting shit else from us! You really expect to let him back into the Kingdom after this?!”


    Triple the luck of Thueban not being kin. Namir stalked in a circle around the man, fighting off his rage as he tightened his jaw.


    “Do you realize what you may have just done, Thueban?” He almost hissed the Captain’s name, as his heavy boots hit the marble flooring. “Or are you that DAFT?!” He yelled, a shudder skittered down my spine. I even saw Asad lose his stoic expression for a moment, walking up to Namir and grabbing his shoulder. He placed his free hand on Thueban’s—a bridge between the men.


    “It was a prank, Thueban. A prank that ended horribly, don’t you recall doing something similar to one of Otlak’s own in your youth? He was probably drunk, and thought it funny to send his soldier towards your men. How was he to know such a comment would elicit violence?” Asad asked Thueban, looking from his brother to the Captain. Namir’s hackles were still raised, though, as his quick breaths slowed ever so slightly.


    I kept my distance, watching the men as Asad deescalated the conflict.


    “The boy clearly knew what he was doing! His antics have gone on long enough—first, the land disputes in the north; now this?!” Thueban argued, looking exasperatedly at Namir. Confusion must have lined my face, as Asad looked at me and shook his head. A topic I was still too young to know about, it seemed.


    His Highness put his hands out between he and the Captain, shrugging off Asad’s hand as he spoke next.


    “We have no proof, Thueban! Don’t you see?!” Namir said, his anger subsided slightly. He was still loud, but at least he wasn’t shouting. “The boy has no track record! We cannot go issuing blame like this so fast—and barring him entry to our land?! This could cause tensions—war!”


    “Your Highness, land disputes can cause tension. Killing my MEN can cause war!” Thueban argued. His voice always grew hoarse when he yelled, and I could tell his own anger was teetering on the edge. I steeled my resolve, loosening a breath and speaking up.


    “Al’Namir.” I beckoned gently. All three of the men paused to look at me, almost shocked to hear my voice enter the conversation.


    “Do you remember when I was tasked with guard duty a couple of months ago—and Hadiy was bringing you that paperwork?”


    Asad nodded, and Namir bristled against my words. His eyes urged me to tell my story succinctly, and not to drag on. Thueban, on the other hand, watched me speak with a glimmer in his eyes.


    I looked to the ground, then back to the men. “The young noble who had been pestering him for weeks picked on him again, and I did nothing to stop him. Hadiy went flying to the ground after the noble pushed him, and those documents went flying into the mud close by. Asad, you punished me for my inaction by forcing me to help you put your armor on for a month.”


    Namir nodded once, his hackles lowering substantially. I had done it—I had quelled the beast. Thanking my lucky stars, I heard Thueban speak again with feline-like eyes.


    “Such actions cannot go unpunished.”


    “Fine, then.” Namir said, sighing heavily and meeting Thueban’s gaze once more.


    “I will see to it that Shahin dismisses the soldier who started this—but he is still allowed into the Kingdom, Thueban.”


    Thueban’s eyes widened with disbelief.


    “That’s it?!” He asked. “That’s all he gets: a slap on the wrist?!”


    I’d lost count of how many times to multiply Thueban’s luck for not being kin to Al’Namir at that point. If Asad were in his position, saying what Thueban dared say, he’d be dead on the ground by now. If I were the one saying such things—a shiver struck my spine once more at the thought.


    “Yes, Thueban. That’s what will happen. You have no say in such a matter, you have too close of proximity to the issue to weigh in.” Namir seethed. His voice was quiet, now, but he still seemed like he could wring Thueban’s neck in a heartbeat. I could only imagine how hot his breath must have been as it hit Thueban’s face, but the Captain didn’t so much as flinch as His Highness all but spat in his face. I understood in that moment what it took to be the leader of the Sixth Battalion.


    With a frustrated huff, Thueban opened his mouth again to speak. He was cut off by Namir, whose voice had become gentler—though not by much. “I understand, Captain. Your wife’s family lives in the land to the North, touching the borders. But you’re blaming a 23 year-old for a conflict that’s lasted longer than he’s been alive!”


    Thueban finally seemed to back down a bit, accepting his defeat. I shot the Captain a glance, urging him to keep his mouth shut. It was in that brief moment of silence that the doctor finally spoke up. “Your Highness, he’ll live. His family must take great care in changing his dressings, though. Infection has already started.”


    Thueban looked at the doctor with shock. “He has no family. Is he to change the wounds himself?” He asked.


    “I can take him to the infirmary, but with the majority of our nurses in Zarvan right now, I cannot guarantee he’ll make it.” The doctor said with a grimace.


    I felt my chest grow tight, looking over at Hamza’s pale face. He didn’t seem as pain-ridden, now that the bandaging held the wound in place. Thueban nodded, and gently lifted Hamza up around his shoulders. The doctor guided him out of the throne room, and Thueban looked at Namir one last time with scorn. I didn’t know that would be the last time I saw Hamza before he died from infection.


    Namir and I finished our game of Chon as the sun began to set, hardly speaking as we played. We never got back to our discussion from earlier, and I wasn’t about to trudge it up. He won, and I didn’t take the loss too seriously, finding it hard to concentrate with Hamza’s face marred in my mind. As I left the throne room, I took one last look at the carpet where Thueban let him bleed. I couldn’t help but wince at the sight. The door to the throne room closed behind me with a gentle click, and I made my way down the halls. A few doors from my room was Hala’s, and the idea of seeing her both comforted and terrified me. I felt my stomach tie in knots as I heard her humming, but I knew that if I didn’t check on her soon that I’d end up falling victim to Namir’s rage next. I knocked thrice on the door, and heard the humming stop.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Hala’s voice was more strained than usual as she called from the other side of the door.


    “One moment!” She replied. A smile grew on my face, knowing she was up to no good. Opening the door, I slinked in and watched as Hala looked at me with mortification.


    “Princess?” I asked, making sure my voice matched the expression I wore.


    There she was, her eyes more akin to a lemur than a girl as black paint circled them and golden powder sat on her lids. I couldn’t help but laugh, closing the door behind me and leaning into it.


    “Heaven’s sake, Idris!” She snarled.


    I laughed while cringing.


    “I could have been changing!”


    I felt my smile grow wider as I fully entered the room, and she doused a small rag in a mystery solution, rubbing her face furiously to remove the makeup. A few strides brought me to the vanity she sat at, and I picked up a small pan of pink opalescent powder. I swiped into it, rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. “You’ve never said ‘one moment’ while you were changing in your entire life.”


    “And what have I told you about calling me that in private?!”


    “It’s habit, Hala.” I said softly as I applied the powder to my wrist and sniffed it. No poison. At least as far as I could smell. I licked it as I looked at her again, letting out another breath of laughter at her streaked face. I couldn’t help but relish in her annoyance.


    “You’re the worst!” She groaned.


    I watched her rub her eyes again with the rag, wondering how on earth she’d managed to get such powders without a chaperone to guide her to any shops that day. It dawned on me, then, that she’d probably snuck out and gotten into something.


    “Where have you been, anyways?” Hala asked, ripping me from my train of thought.


    I took the rag from her, wiping my fingers and wrist with the solution, noticing the oily sheen is left on my skin. When I looked back at her, I noticed a similar sheen to her face. Her delicate yet defined features almost made my knees buckle despite the bitter expression in her eyes.


    “Around.” I said shortly. “Where have you been today?”


    “None of your business, louse!” She insulted.


    A genuine smile pulled at my lips, now, knowing I’d already gotten under her skin enough to elicit insults. “What’s all of this stuff, then, hm?” I asked with feline-curiosity, leaning into the vanity as I bent in towards her ever so slightly. Hala’s cheeks grew hotter, as a dusty pink pulled through them. “Is it none of my business?” I mocked.


    “No. It isn’t.” She snapped.


    I couldn’t help but feel my heart flutter from her attempt to argue. I stared at her, watching her silently until she groaned out once more.


    “You truly are the worst!”


    “If you wear any of that to a social gathering, Jamila will have more to say about you than she will about me.” I teased. She became furious, snatching the rag out from under my hand on the vanity and rubbed her face ferociously once more, trying to get what I could only assume to be coal off of her face. She cursed at me under her breath, and I just watched quietly until she stopped. Once the rag moved from her eyes, I fought my lips from smiling even wider. She was beautiful, painstakingly so, as the amber light from the sunset illuminated her eyes. The shadows of her face, the look of her hair—even with the leftover makeup staining her skin, I wanted to etch those features into my mind for eternity. I cleared my throat to rid myself of such a thought, leaning down a bit more before trying again to uncover her whereabouts.


    “So.” I began. “Where were you this afternoon?”


    “Shopping.”


    “With who?”


    I watched her look around as she always did when she lied; down, left, right, and left again.


    “Hamza.” It took everything in me not to burst into laughter, knowing Hamza was holed up in the infirmary of the East Wing. Another inch closer.


    “That’s not true, Hala.” I said keenly.


    “Yes it is! I wouldn’t lie about that!” She desperately tried covering her hide, but I was onto her. “No it isn’t. Hamza is in the infirmary right now after a scuffle.” Her face fell with astonishment.


    “Where were you?” I asked.


    “Who did Hamza get into a fight with?” Hala asked, nearly a whisper. I knew what she was doing—a trade. If I told her details of what had happened, she’d tell me where she was; but neither of us were allowed to rat the other out.


    “One of Shahin’s men.” I said simply.


    “Why?”


    I smiled expectantly at her, leaning another inch closer to her. “That’s none of your concern.”


    “Fine.” She huffed. “I was at a brothel.”


    My blood ran cold, and I felt the air hit the whites of my eyes as they widened subconsciously. I narrowed them instantly, scouring Hala’s body and taking in every inch of skin visible to the eye as I was plagued with the image of a man grabbing her body and…I cleared my throat again, speaking in a harsher tone than I’d meant to.


    “You were at a what?!”


    “A brothel, Idris, you should have seen it! There were so many women there, and they showed me—!”


    I wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. To instill the fear of God into her. I was furious, still scouring her body to make sure nothing, no one, had touched her. “Hala!” I yelled, interrupting her. “Do you realize the danger you could have put yourself in?!”


    Hala looked at me with an expression I’d only ever seen on Al’Haya—pained disappointment. She trusted me with such a secret, and I’d yelled at her like Namir would have. I didn’t care, though. I was riddled with intrusive thoughts, mortified by what she may have seen in that place. My body moved quicker than my mind at that point, taking the hair on her shoulder and moving it aside to check for any marks.


    “Those women could have poisoned you, the products you were given could have been laced with all kinds of drugs! You’re lucky no men recognized you and—!” I had to bite back the rest of the sentence, and her face became more apathetic than anything.


    “You’re making a mountain out of a mole hill again, Idris.”


    I cringed.


    “No, Hala, you’re not taking your safety seriously enough!” I scoffed as my hands fell back to my hips. I drew back from her, watching her angrily. “Heavens,” I sighed. My eyes fell to the ground and I massaged my temples with one hand. “I knew you’d gone uneducated on certain matters…but this is ridiculous.”


    I didn’t have to look at her to know how she was looking at me. I could feel the dissatisfaction oozing from her. “What ‘certain matters’ might I be uneducated on, Idris?”


    I almost yelled at her again, but I dug deep to keep the words in my throat. Idris, a name that nearly sent me into a mouth-frothing rage. It was meant to be given to me as a blessing by my parents before they died, hoping I’d survive off of my wit and cunning alone—but I hated it as much as I hated having this conversation. She was expecting me to tell her about sex, plain and simple—with no idea, no clue of the request she was making. I almost did it, had it not been for the look in her eyes. I rubbed the bridge of my nose.


    “Men are animals, Hala. They wait for the right time…then they harm innocent girls like you. You’re lucky you had the protection of those maidens in the brothel, or you may have ended up tarnished.”


    Her brows furrowed with confusion, cementing how innocent she was to me. My heart almost ached.


    “Tarnished? What are you talking about? No man would have approached me there.” She scoffed.


    I wanted to tell her how wrong she was, how horribly wrong she could be. It took everything in me to contain the furious laughter welling in my chest, and I shook my head. I was amazed; her homemaking skills and academic knowledge had grown vast, she could debate on morality for hours, and explain the most complex of math problems to me…but she’d been left in the dark on something so primal, taught on instinct alone. Asad and Namir had taught me more than enough about the topic when I’d overheard a few soldiers talking about their wives performance in bed. I was 14 back then, and they’d allowed Hala to turn 15 without so much as a hint to what it meant to be ‘with’ someone. I finally met her eyes once more, and had to lock my knees to keep from swooning.


    “You’ve been taught nothing of womanhood, I suppose…” I muttered, letting out a bit of that furious laughter. Hala leaned further on the seat of her vanity, looking up at me with wide eyes. I swear I saw insult laced in her expression.


    “What do you mean?”


    I sighed heavily, looking back down to the ground and combing through my curls. I had to pick apart a tangle, before shoving my hand back under my bicep. “I’m taking you back there tomorrow, and they’re explaining everything.”


    Her eyes lit up with excitement, and I shook my head again. I was so close to doing it myself—explaining what she was so ignorant about. Expecting a man nearly two years her senior to tell her about such a thing was dizzying, mostly because I was the man in question. The only thing that could make me angrier was the idea of what I might have to ward off of her tomorrow inside the brothel. I sat in the armchair between the bed and vanity, keeping my arms crossed as she examined her face in the mirror. I know I looked like an angry animal, looking back on it. I was privileged, then. For that to be the most anger I’d ever experience.


    ———————————————————————————————————


    It was a short trip to the brothel, with both of us just small enough to slip through the Northern wall into town. We both wore commoners’ clothes, and walked through the streets as merchants and farmers tried to sell their wares to us. I held my hand up to them with a hardened expression. I didn’t care about their metals or grains—I cared about the alleyway that was the victim of heavy foot traffic. Guilty men walked out of the back street, pulling their pants up higher as they reentered the busy main road. Hala tugged my arm and guided me down the path, her eyes alight with wonder. I was curious as to if she knew she was walking into one of the most dangerous parts of town, but didn’t bother asking.


    Upon entry, a woman with piercing green eyes met my gaze. We almost looked alike, with defined faces and wiry figures. She seemed to keep her figure so small on purpose, whereas mine was a byproduct of my poor athleticism. She leaned forward onto the desk she stood behind, smiling at Hala.


    “Brought a friend, hm?” She asked, her voice laced with both antagonism and a hint of allure. Hala’s face twisted with annoyance, as if the woman were an old friend japing her.


    “He made me come back.”


    I crossed my arms, looking from Hala to the woman with a shit-eating grin.


    “It seems a massive part of Princess Hala’s lesson was glazed over, yesterday.”


    Her face fell from one of seduction to one of pure panic, as the title fell from my lips. I reveled in her anxiety, as she tried to form words. “P-princess?”


    I couldn’t help the smile from growing wider as I nodded. “Yep.” Hala smiled at the woman embarrassedly, but I took no such courtesy. My smile was one of deviance, and the woman behind the desk could tell as much. With a swift movement, she went behind the curtain to her right. “You bitch!” I heard her hiss, “You didn’t recognize the Princess of Mahsul?!”


    “I’m not the one who used to be an Imperial Guard, Habun!” Another, more melodic voice retorted. She didn’t seem as panicked. The emerald-eyed woman returned with another woman of similar stature, and she bowed deeply. The woman’s forehead touched the standing desk in front of us, and she spoke in a calm, apologetic tone. “Your Highness, we are so sorry to have allowed you into this establishment yesterday. Please…do not bring any punishment against us!”


    Shifting on my feet and keeping my arms crossed, I spoke on Hala’s behalf. “Nothing will happen to your…establishment, since Al’Hala is safe.” I stated. Hala looked at me appreciatively as I spoke again. “But in return, I need you all to explain exactly what goes on in your business.”


    “Do it, Tayir.” The emerald-eyed woman seethed, cutting those eyes into the woman beside her. Tayir’s eyes widened with realization.


    “She doesn’t know…?”


    I shook my head, tightening my arms around myself as a man I recognized walked out from behind the curtain on the far right side of the room. An Imperial Courts-man, whose eyes were wide as saucers when they fell upon me. I offered him a threatening glare, and he made haste to the table of alcohol nearby. Tayir walked out from behind the desk, and took Hala by the shoulders, escorting her to the room behind the desk to my left. It felt like I’d been standing out there until Spring came, watching as countless soldiers and tradesmen of high status walked in and out of the whorehouse.


    ————


    After the hushed voices in the room behind the standing desk dissipated, Tayir returned with Hala. She wore a thousand-yard stare as Tayir handed her back to me. I took herm arm in mine, covering her face more with the headscarf she wore. That seemed to snap her out of her daze.


    “Idris!” She hissed.


    I nodded in thanks to the woman, eyeing her odd figure. She was too tall and muscular, and I drew my own conclusions about the business owners of the brothel.


    “Poor thing hardly knew why she cramped each month…I think we explained it all to the best of our abilities.” Tayir muttered with a hand on her cheek.


    Guiding Hala out of the establishment was no easy task, narrowly avoiding the prying eyes of different men who knew me. Who knew us. If I had to bet, I’d probably make my dhebals worth that the guardsmen in the palace I saw in that brothel would look at me differently starting from when they saw me. I didn’t have much time to worry about my reputation, though, because my main goal was making sure no one recognized Hala. After slipping back into the alleyway, she looked up at me with bewilderment.


    “You knew about this before I did…?” She asked.


    I could only nod in response as I walked her back towards the busy street nearby, and we traversed the sidewalk. “Namir and Asad told me about it.”


    “Father told you before he told me?” She almost shrieked.


    “I think he was waiting for your mother to explain the topic…and quiet down!” I chided, looking around as people stared. I offered a passive smile to whoever lingered, hoping they’d mind their own business instead of try to ask us what was going on.


    Haya would never explain such a topic—I knew as much, and I had no idea as to why Namir wouldn’t assume such. Perhaps his reasoning was something I couldn’t comprehend, being so young. Hala was most certainly mature enough to grasp the concept—maybe that was why he hadn’t talked to her about it. She was curious enough as is.


    As we slipped back into the Northern Wall through its crevice, and got back to the Grand Building, Hala looked at me with an expression I could only compare to Namir’s when he was staring Thueban down last night.


    “If I ever tell you ‘one moment’ when you knock again, you’d better listen.” She snapped.


    I nodded slowly as my feet grew twice as cold as they had already become in the light commoners’ disguise I wore.