The public seemed to perceive her in a different light than anticipated, for it was more than obvious the upper class of merchant prince and princesses did not approve of the public humiliation of a slave's master, and also the decapitation of one. To think- the masters were punished but the slaves left to live? It seemed preposterous! And was enough to make the attentions towards the Shah down right poisonous. And more than once she had received anonymous letters that made threats at her life, and demanded she change her mind set and direction, lest her blood line be the last to sit on the throne of Essyrn.
Terrified after yet another threat at her life, and this time, the gifted jar was laced with a poisonous snake, she had taken to her room for most of the evening and the guards, doubled at her door. But even then, she could not shake this sense of fear and desperation that she was stumbling blindly through a path unseen, and had no idea what to make of how she felt and what was going on in this world around her.
The insolence of the merchant class was enough to make her more than irate- clearly those with wealth were not deserving of such powers if this was how they were to behave towards their very own Shah! How DARE they make threats to her- the very Shah, the vessel of Hakeshna herself! But even through her anger, the doubts stirred from within, and she kept thinking back to that angered glare coming from deep within the helmet of that slave who was the first to defy her of now many.
She shivered at the thought, and soon found herself crying, and unable to contain herself, and feeling as if the walls were closing in. She threw her veranda doors open and rushed out onto her balcony as she sobbed, and found herself welcoming the air as it cooled the tears flowing down her face. But in her brief run onto the balcony, a second gifted jar she had no seen was knocked over, and as it cracked open as it shattered upon the ground. SHe ignored it, not caring what it was as she threw herself against the balcony and cried, burying her face into her arms while ignoring the gorgeous sight of the sun set before her. The entire world was melting into a bed of colors, ranging from the hot blazing orange of the sun as it sunk over the horizon and capped the Niafi river in it's vibrant colors, and then streamed upwards into a bed of bright reds, which inevitably glowed nto the soft lacings of violet so high up in the sky, that were only begin to crown the world in dusting of star light.
But even through her lamenting and her tears.. a chilling wind swept through the translucent white robes she wore, but that was not what sent a sudden shiver down her spine. For the sound of something made her turn. She whirled around and gasped at the hissing presence of a black asp and before she knew what was going on, the dark snake struck out, aiming to bite her leg.
The metallic whistle of steel moving against the air rung out loudly in the evening air. The black snake found itself sliced in two just three inches below the neckline and the body fell, wriggling outward toward Persea and blood seeped out from either end of the mangled creature's body. The blow had been quick ,decisive, and despite the proximity of the animal toward the Shah's ankle, it was precisely aimed and there hadn't been a hint of hesitation in the hand the long scimitar blade resided in.
The blood that stained the middle and longer end of it and the hand gripped the hilt tightly before raising the blade and taking a cloth in the other and swiping it along the edge of it before returning the weapon into the ornately decorated sheath. The hilt was strapped securely to the hip of a man garbed in white silken robes that flowed coolly in the breeze coming in from the river Niafi and the coming evening. His belt was stitched leather, wrapped over a deep blue sash that wrapped over the layered robes on his torso and the equally silken trousers. He wore a braided rope around his head, holding his dark hair back from his face, it's reddish tinge visible in the falling daylight. His face almost carved over stone and smoothed over to reveal a proud clean-shaven face with regal features and gray-green eyes reflecting back at her.
Guards rushed in after him, their weapons drawn suddenly pointed at the man and he turned to them, confident that even they wouldn't simply run him through. "Forgive my intrusion, good men," he said in a deep, voice, but with a noticeable gentleness that made them men blink at him in minor confusion. "I understand your alarm, but I drew my blade not at your Shah, but at the small creature that surely could have ended her life even before she took notice of it! Please stay your hand. I am but a Messenger of the Clan Abd-Amal. I am Attila Al'Razar!"
It all happened so fast. One moment a serpent leaped out from the coils of darkness, and in a flash of silver, it fell into a pile of it's own blood. She stared in shock at the thing, before hearing the approach of guards. It was only here she turned to regard both the man who saved her, and the men that had approached, and her mind was in a whirl over what had happened, as she fought against her own emotions to steel them away and remain the perfected figure head that was bound to her duties as The Shah.
Her heart was still beating a mile a minute, the veranda, having turning quiet in the approaching dark as her eyes flickered back and forth between man and guard.
"I..." and then she closed her lips and rose her head up proudly, being ignorant, for the time being, o fher tears. "Yes, be still with your weapons. This man had rescued me." And then to this Attila Al'Razar, she narrowed her gaze. "And you, who so conveniently saved my life, how on earth did you get on my veranda?" And more important... who was Attila Al'Razar?
She held a breath, blinking back any more tears as she tried to focus her vision and kept her eyes locked upon this rescuer. And as she did so, she rather wished she hadn't just been crying, for now she felt suddenly very self conscious- for the man was a gorgeous and handsome man, with rugged, strong features that made her heart leap at first sight. And she- well she, a proclaimed beauty of the Niafi, the very jewel of the desert they'd say- why, here she was, red eyed and puffy cheeked from tears having to meet someone who, for all she knew, was of grave importance.
Little did she know what sort of importance he was....
The guards did lower their weapons, if with extreme hesitation as Attila's hand came away from his own weapon as well and he relaxed visibly. He bowed his head again to the Shah once she had set it upon herself to address him. "I am deeply apologetic to have the first words of our meeting spoken over drawn blades. But I admire your gaurdsmen for doing all they would to protect their Shah, and I willl excuse such an action at weapons being drawn against me for only such a reason. The Clan Abd-Amal, would not like to hear of one of thier messengers being attacked or abused in any way." Attila bowed again and looked at the Shah right in the eyes.
"Please, Your Eminence, excuse my strange arrival, but I was in fact let in by your men from the Servant's corridor. Though it seems a bit of a lesser method entry for a man of my station, I believe I was too distracted by the news I bear to be too offended. I explained my urgency and the guards led me right to your chambers, I'm afraid. Please do think too harshly of them. For they too were only doing their duty."
The intense gaze of his eyes was enough to make her gape, and once he was done speaking, the place fell silent, and in that silence she realized it was her turn to speak.
"I... well," she said, still finding it difficult to form the proper words. "Well, with what urgency do you speak?" Clearly it was of grave importance to use such... methods and she- too emotional to question it.
Attila bowed his head once more and his expression was no less grave. "Clan Abd-Amal owns several territories north of the city, Your Eminence," he began. "And thus far their own forces have been sufficient in policing their own borders against minor bands of brigands, raiders, and rival princes. But something even they didn't account for occurred when the many slaves they owned suddenly spurred a violent, and bloody uprising. They killed Abari Abd-Amal, the reigning Prince in his bed. His wife managed to escape with her grown sons. Abari II, his son, tried to rally their forces, but many of their own guards were slaughtered before they could make any kind of effective counterstrike. They escaped with a small contingent of armed guards that remained and request refuge in the city of Essyrn."
Persea stood in horror at such news, and not being accompanied by her High Priest, she had absolutely no idea what to do.
"The slaves were fighting?" It was madness! How could this be? "And killing merchant lords?"
After a moment of gaping in shock, she set her jaw and threw back on her mask, and despite the echo of tears on her face, she righted her shoulders and stared at this man so boldly and said, "Then we are to take quick action. Are there intelligences as to the where abouts of these run away slaves? Clearly they need to be made an example of for disobeying their masters. I would have thought the examples I set earlier would have quelled any doubts for this sort of reaction in slaves, but it seems I'll have to go right to the source!"
"May I assume from your reaction," he began tentatively. "That Abari II and his family may be allowed refuge here in the city?" His expression was careful not to be too hopeful, but he let his eyes relax a little. "I cannot say for certain of the positioning of the slaves in question, Your Grace, as I am only an emmissary. But from our latest reports had the slaves holding the siezed territory of the Abd-Amal family. The Clan was quite prominent in the trade, you see and owned more than three hundred slaves, separated as needed in their holdings. The slaves are armed little more than farm equipment...but that was when they first rose up. There's no telling what they may have now."
"His family?" Persea pressed her lips firmly together into a frown. "This is a palace, not a refugee camp. I... I'll have to speak to my High Priest. Accomodations could be made at the city temple, but that's about as much as I can afford to give. It is Hakeshna's will to protect, so it is to her sanctuary they should go."
"Perhaps you did not hear the beginning of my message, Your Grace," Attila said tentatively. "I said they would like refuge within the city, not the Palace. I believe even Prince Abari II would be too prideful to assert such a notion."
Persea, who had indeed, been too wrapped up in her own emotions, misheard him as her cheeks turned pink at the notion.
"Yes, forgive me, I did mishear you." And her voice notably lost the authority she had been projecting but a moment before. "Yes, of course that would be fine. Hakeshna's temple welcomes all, and if any merchant family's can spare the rooms, I'm sure they would reach out to those in need while they remain beneath Hakeshna's care."
Attila allowed himself a small smile, though he would never be so presumptuous as to make it an amused smile, when she remembered what he'd actually said. Sharp, he thought, when she isn't hamped down by others telling her what to think.
"Abd-Amal have allies within the city, but of course they sought permission first before entering what is most effectively your domain, Your Grace," he said with a nodding bow of his head. "I'm sure Prince Abd-Amal would be most gracious for your hospitality. Thank you, not only from my Lord, but from myself as well." And he allowed himself a reverent bow.
Drawing back on her earlier mishap, she felt foolish and wanted to correct herself.
"Earlier, when I... mentioned no homage here, it did not mean the family could not dine with me or take an audience so that I may personally hear their tale. After what has been going on...." Surely this man had known about the acts in the arena... "There have been.. whispers that... that the slave are unhappy." And this made her frown. To think! She had shone them leniency! The nerve!
Attila did not need to look behind him to see that the guards had taken their cue to allow the Shah privacy in her audience with the visitor, for he felt the door quietly close behind them. At the mention of the events in the Arena, Attila stiffened, if only a little.
"Such rumors...would certainly explained what happened to Abd-Amal," Attila said steadily and he tilted his head. "I will tell my liege your message and I am certain he will be available to tell you the tale himself within a few hours."
"Lord... Al'Razar, was it?" she could not for the life of her recall if he had a title... "You.. you've traveled far, come. Sit with me in my personal chambers so that I may offer you water or wine, whichever you desire. I am indebted to you. Not only have you informed me of news that is of grave importance, but you also saved my life."
His expression widened visibly since he had not at all expected the hospitality of the Shah to be extended to him. There was a brief moment of silence as he considered turning down her proposal, as he had many other places to be at the moment. But it would not do to refuse the Shah.
Not now at any rate.
Attila bowed his head again. "It would be my honor, Your Grace. But please, call me Attila," he said and gave her a genuine smile.
"Attila," and she gave a nod, only then noticing it was such a handsome man who had rescued her, and she found herself unable to control a blush. "Very well, follow me." And she moved past the curtains from this section of her room into the much larger portion, and here, it was even grander than most of the main halls in the common merchant prince's homes. Though she had many generations backing the foundations for such a prestigious and opulent palace, it was all hers, every sparkling corner of it.
Moving into a room layered in lush pillows, she snapped her fingers and had her slaves bring them both water and wine, and she moved to fill a basin in which for them to bath their hands and feet. She, naturally went first, blessing it over in Hakeshna's name, before setting the small bath down beside him to do the same. Then goblets were filled and the drink, offered as she took a set on a floor level throne and smiled over at the man she was to entertain.
And it was only when the goblet was raised to her lips did she realize....
This was the first time entertaining a man...
alone.
"Please, sit, and be comfortable."
It was a strange sensation, to be served so quickly and efficiently at the hands of servants that knew their place and knew it well. Attila wondered if the slaves owned by Abd-Amal had once felt the same way. Apparently if they did, that was a long forgotten sentiment.
He cleaned his feet and his hands, abandoning his soft shoes which were taken by servant to be left out of the main room as his eyes took in the rest of the chambers. He was in awe, of that there was no doubt. Of course what one single woman would do with so much space left much to the imagination. He thanked the slave with a nod, though he said nothing and followed the Shah to her array of pillows.
He knew how the Princes arranged their sitting situations, and they were not all that different than that of the Shah's. He took his place, two paces across from her, but not quite in front of her and crossed his legs before him. "Thank you, Your Grace," he said once more, bowing his head. He took the offered wine, holding it delicately before he raised it to his nose, gave it a good smell of what it deserved before sampling it. "Ah, Sedivera Vintage 95. An excellent choice, Your Grace. You have fine taste."
A dimpled smile graced her face.
"And you know your wine," she said, most pleased.
"But of course," Attila nodded. "My father was a collector of rare and exotic drinks, wines in particular. The rarer and more exotic the better. I dabbled in the hobby myself a little. Sedivera was amongt his favored of Serenian wineries."
"Oh!" Persea made a noise of excitement, a hand going to her chest. "Had he, or you, ever traveled there? To Serendipity?"
She had only heard such things about the kingdom, but nothing more than paintings, stories and word of mouth.
Attila raised a brow at her, surprised at her genuine interest. It was his turn to blush and his smile was sheepish. "Yes, many times when I was a boy. Before things became more troublesome over the years," he said softly. "Serendipity is beautiful. It is so decidedly....green!"
"Yes! So I've heard! The library here has a beautiful tapestry of the mountains and the hills side, so green.. it makes even the jade and emeralds be put to shame!" And it was only then she realized, through her gush, what she was doing, and found herself leaning forward in her short throne and now,s he was moving back into it as she delicately took another sip of the wine, then another.
"Do you no longer go there?"
Attila fixed the belt of his sash and cleared his throat. "No I'm afraid I have not been able too in the most recent years. A regrettable circumstance to be sure," he said with a small frown. "If you ever have a chance, you should make it a point to travel there."
Persea's eyes danced at the idea, but as quickly as the light was there, it began to fade.
"I... am sure it is lovely," she said, clearing her throat and taking the goblet to her lips again. "But regrettably, it would be unwise to leave my country in a time such as this."
Where there have been threats with snakes..
and now not only are her own people upset with her, the slaves, it seems as well! Oh, Hakeshna! Give her strength! And she found herself idly clutching to a necklace she wore, and taking another sip too many of her wine. She knew she was a light weight, and keep the airs of being a delicate drinker none the less, but this man, this whole situation had caught her off guard, and her nerves, normally so well concealed, were becoming so painfully visible.
But she would not be the weak link. Her father had been such a powerful man, and had mentioned that one crack could cause an avalanche, and she did not want to be responsible for the true downfall of the position of the Shah.
"Does something trouble you, Your Grace?" Attila asked, leaning forward.
"I.... No! I mean, I just.." she blew out a sigh and stared down at her goblet before peering over sheepishly at Attila. "I suppose I am still a bit nervous from the snake." And after admitting such a thing, she quickly steeled herself, recalling she had to be a picture of perfection. "You, and the snake, that is, caught me completely off guard."
Attila furrowed his brows, his eyes softened in understanding. "I would be pretty nervous too if a snake came that close to striking me. Tell no one but, I had fallen into a snake pit once when I was a boy. I was terrified of them for years. But I learned I couldn't go on with the rest of my life being afraid of them. When you hesitate, the serpent knows you will never raise the courage to strike first, probably never. But when you stare it in the eyes, dauntless, and hold no reservations, the snake knows only one of you will survive. Likely you more than it."
Persea stared at Attila in wonder. What he said made so much sense, she felt almost enlightened for it. And perhaps she was. A few veils not yet removed from her childhood seemed lifted, and her expression softened to more of one in peace. Giving a nod, she smiled towards him.
"A very wise tale from a noble man," she said, raising her drink in his honor. "And a blessing from Hakeshna." And to her lips the goblet went again, and she was finding, she liked very much this confidence the drink was giving her, so she had another sip and moved to refill her glass."Care for some more wine?" She asked, while a slave filled her cup.
"I'm afraid my goblet is still very much full, so I am content, thank you though," he nodded and raised his cup to her and took one more, small drink.
"Yes, of course!" she said with a blush, dropping her gaze to her own drink as she, only now, when she was feeling the buzz from the alcohol, began to contemplate this decision. But she was Shah! She was Hakeshna's wings, her blood, her vessel. Yes, she could very well do no wrong.
"So are you married?"
Well... that wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but it just came out- just like that- and perhaps it was his eyes or the way he had done his hair...
Or you know, this damned, powerful, but delicious Serenian wine. But even after realizing how forward it might sound, she still kept her ground, even though behind the mask she wore of indifference she was screaming..
'Oh my goddess, oh my goddess, oh my goddess, did I really just ask THAT?!
My what a pressing question. And why?
Attila remained unperturbed however if the question caused him any ruffled feathers. "No. I'm not," he murmured and sipped his wine, savoring the taste.
Persea's curiosity perked up, though she should not let herself appear so... excited. Just because a handsome man was available, did not mean she had to leap at the first opportunity- not that she knew what she was doing anyway. So while the excitement of her age sparkled in her eyes, her face still remained composed.
"Ah, that is good," she said as evenly as she could. "For a wife after such circumstances would surely be anxious for your return." And delicately she sipped more wine, keeping her slightly drunken state more or less maintained.
Attila caugt that gleam in her eye and he allowed the end of his lips to twitch slightly in a smile. He raised his goblet to her and took a sip. "Indeed it would be unwise to wed in these times," he agreed. "But my work takes me wide and far across these lands. I'm sure my wife would understand any reasons for my absence."
"I'm sure it would be trying on any wife. To have her husband away so. That is.." she then added, in an after thought. "Unless she were to be allowed to travel with him."
The idea of travel was almost to foreign to her, like some magical journey just out of reach. So it was genuine interest she show cased here to be sure.
Attila's eyebrows went up and used small sips of his wine as intervals between questions. "Life on the road is trying to anyone, especially those less familiar with the lay of the land. Unless a wife is committed to refrain from nagging him with endless complaints, I'm not so sure most husbands would agree with letting them come along. But I'm not married, so my opinion is moot at best."
"Why would a wife nag?" she asked most seriously, not seeming to grasp the stereotypes given to women, or rather, wives.
"I assume it's because they care about their husbands. And likely think if they nag him enough, maybe he'll listen to them," he replied.
"I see," she said, going back to sipping at her wine. "So before all of this crazy business had transpired, had you had any other goals in your life, Attila?"
Attila gave her a thoughtful expression before giving a subtle nod. "I wanted to be a Kaadir herder," he said and suddenly burst out laughing.
Persea blinked, staring at the man and not understanding the nature of his joke, nor his laugh.
"A kaadir herder?" she repeated, when the man's laughter had settled. "Surely you would want a greater position in life than that."
Attila sobered and shook his head. "I am only joking, Your Grace," he said, smirking. "I believe the path of a courier, such as I am, is the highest path I could ever hope to achieve."
"Oh!" she flushed, realizing her mistake and gave a nod. "Forgive me, I see that now."
And at realizing she asked this man's forgiveness made her flush even more. "Perhaps I need some fresh air. I still do not feel at all myself. Would you mind accompanying the Shah on a walk through the gardens? The flowers are so lovely,but I've been afraid to visit them lately."
What with the thief (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=16610.msg185634#msg185634) from before...
And now these threats on her life, she was more paranoid than ever.
He straightened and he nodded to her. "I would be honored, Your Grace." He stood and offered her a hand to help her up to her feet.
Taking his arm most graciously, and finding herself even impressed in such a simple gesture of how well muscled his arms had been, she tried not to let it show as she gestured forward as the two walked, arm in arm.
"You'll have to forgive me, the gardens are on the other side of the palace,"s he said, walking with him out of the room and into the Grand Hall, which seemed to extend endlessly before them.
"I don't mind a little walking! My horse would certainly be most grateful for it," he chuckled.
"Oh, but you certainly wouldn't ride a horse in here!" And the moment she said that, she cringed a bit before adding, "That is to say.." she spoke, delicately tucking back some of her dark hair. "You already know that."
He gave her an easy smile and patted her hand. "My horse is a stubborn gelding who takes as much pleasure knocking me off as he does riding in the wind," he said. "If I let him in here he would likely eat all of your begonias."
Persea's eyes glittered at such an idea. What a marvelous sense of humor!
"I think I might very like to meet this horse," she said, in earnest. "Seeing a man bested by his own steed would be quite the amusing afternoon."
"Oh I would never let him best me, Your Grace. Of course, that isn't to say that he wouldn't say the exact opposite," he chuckled. "But I always threaten of getting another horse and he learns to at least become more amicable because of it. At least that's my hope."
"But what if he were to wise up and let you get that new horse? So that he can have a companion?" she asked, playfully.
"Nothing of the sort. I would gladly trade him away! The stubborn fool is a good ride though, fast as any I've ever rode before. His endurance is outstanding and rate of speed only climbs toward the distance," Attila smirked. "I only jest. I don't think I ever really could sell him. Even if I tried."
"Yes, he sounds like a good friend," she said, smiling up at him. "Like La'apha and Po. Good Horse. Good Rider. Heart of the Desert. I loved hearing that story growing up," she went on, casting away a dreamy stare. "La'apha was always how I envisioned my husband to be." And then realizing what sort of topic she had gone into, she promptly cleared her throat and smiled nervously through it. "That is to say, dreams of in my youth. Now I would seek a husband politically."
Was she supposed to mention that? She wasn't sure, but her High Priest had her anxious over selecting a husband. There were so many unspoken rules about it, she just didn't even know where to begin! Why couldn't finding a husband be simple? As simple as taking a stroll through the gardens?
Attila pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'm sure you will find the proper husband best suited to you. One as noble in heart as he is in blood," he said with a bow of his head.
Persea flushed at the notion, but... well...
She supposed it was better it was not perceived as flirting, if it could even be considered that. How was she to tell a man she loved him? How was she to tell who was the one? Thinking it over, she gave a sigh, not realizing she had done so as the two continued to walk the long walk down the hall.
"I think you have many good years before you should commit yourself to a marriage, I think, Your Grace," he said gently. "I think you have many more pressing matters on your mind as it is. That is to say, that is simply my impression. I do not mean to be presumptuous."
"But I am nineteen!" she retorted. "Most women would have long since married!" Especially those in such a position! It was just unfortunate her father had passed when he did. As with her mother. They would have known what to do.
"Indeed. But not every woman could hope to aspire to become Shah, Your Grace," he said with a gracious bow of his head. "Already you set yourself apart not simply because of your great status. But because of the kind of honor a man must achieve to ever aspire in winning your hand. I have the utmost faith that in due time, you will find the man that is right for you. Trust your instincts and they will not lead you astray. Nevermind the naysayers."
"But being the Shah does not relieve me from my sex. I am still a woman, and as such, I need to lead by example." Just too bad none of the men who could be suitable were, as she felt, worthy of her. And naturally, the cute ones already had wives- and many. Why couldn't she have been betrothed? It would have made selection much easier because there would be no choice and she was sure her father would have selected a fine man.
"In good time, Your Grace," Attila said with a small smile. "In good time."
The two continued on in silence the majority of the way, the Shah becoming quite tired, even in her anxious state. But the moment they stepped out into the gardens, the fresh scents of the flowers and vegetation filled her with renewed energies. She loved the gardens, and had kept herself from them for so long, she felt almost as if she might cry again to feel safe enough to want to step foot within. But as she lead the two upon a stone path through the flowers, her eyes cut warily into the gardens, as if any subtle movement or shadow might strike out at her like the serpent he had saved her from earlier, and out of instincts, she moved closer to him, hugging a bit more securely his arm.
Attila noticed the tightening on his arm but he did not stiffen or shrink away from her. Instead when they entered the garden he set his eyes on the marvel before him and grinned. "This is...beyond imagination."
His attention upon the gardens drew her back curiously to him. She peered up at him but once before glancing around to the world around them.
"Yes.... the Shah's garden would be nothing less," she mused, but her thoughts were still captured elsewhere, beyond the pretty pink flowers blossoming in the Essyrni sun.
"And I find myself in much agreement," Attila remarked softly before looking down at her. Peering into her eyes, he could see she was still greatly troubled and he squeezed her hand upon his arms. "Let your worries subside, if only for the moment. There'll be plenty of time to think on them tomorrow."
At his words, Persea halted as they walked, giving a shake of her head.
"It is not so simple. I am the chosen one of Hakeshna," she pressed.
"I'm sure even Hakeshna has days off. She is a goddess after all," he smirked. "She can do whatever she pleases."
"Oh, but I'm not Hakeshna! I'm..." And she realized she was shouting, and placed a hand to her lips and turned away. "Excuse me... I.... as I stated earlier. I am not well." And her nerves were undoubtedly shot as she looked back to the shadows then towards they exit that seemed so far away.
"I understand completely," Attila, bowed his head to her. "If you want to go back inside, we can."
"Maybe.." she began, some hesitation in her voice. But then her ears caught the whistles of birds coming from the menagerie. "Oh! But first!" she said, grabbing more tightly onto his arm. "Let's go t the menagerie! I have a pair of birds that are my favorites whom I have not visited as of lately. They are beautiful birds, sun conures they are called, bright yellow bodies and a red mask over their face, with mixed plumage on their wings. They are beautiful and friendly birds. Come," she said, affording him a smile as she lead him towards the end of the gardens and through an open door that opened up into a room full of exotic animals. Some in cages, some not. Her eyes were looking around for the pair of yellow birds when another pair of eyes from her pet cheetah opened to peer at the pair as they entered.
Whether he showed it or not, Attila really was in awe in all she had to show him. The flowers were a glory all their own and to have them thrive beyond the sands themselves was a wonder to behold. He found himself beyond words however when she showed him her collection of birds and his jaw literally dropped. And then the cheetah.
Attila jumped when he saw the cat and his hand instinctively reached for his sword.
Persea nearly jumped clean out of her skin to see Attila go for his sword. But when her eyes followed his gaze, her hand went to her chest, the other one squeezing his arm.
"Oh, a sword is not needed. This beast is my pet." And she moved forward to lay beside the cheetah who wore an ornate gold collar. The large cat seemed to show it off, eyes never once leaving Attila as Persea scratched behind his ears.
"Her name is Kehfta. And she is half as old as me. A wise and dedicated beast."
Attila released a breath he hadn't even rellized he'd been holding and blinked at her as if he couldn't really believe the words he was hearing. "But...but she is still wild no?" he asked. He still relaxed his grip on his sword.
"Maybe towards you," she informed him with a smirk. "But to me, she's as gentle as a kitten." And she turned her attention back to the cheetah and continued to stroke her, the big cat seeming pleased.
Attila straightened and soon he was smiling. "I am glad to see you feel so comfortable around her, as menacing as a creature of the Plains as she is," he said. The cheetah made a small sound that went between a meow and a growl and he chuckled shortly before stepping toward her and offering his hand to sniff.
And that's when Persea put her hand upon his.
"I... wouldn't do that." And she turned to face him, peering into his eyes before glancing away, back down at Kefhta. "She... isn't exactly nice towards... men. She's just... never been fond of them."
He dutifully retracted his hand and straightened. Then he bowed and nodded to the cheetah. "Beautiful and intelligent. No doubt the deadliest of combinations."
"But of course," she replied with a bigger smirk and rose to her feet beside him. "What would you expect from your Shah?"
"I was talking about the cheetah," Attila said smoothly, like cooling glass. But it was followed by another eloquent bow and he smiled at her.
"I know," she replied, with just the faintest hint of blush to her cheek along with her smirk. "So was I."
His smile only widened and a gleam struck his eye. "Good. I wasn't worried about how you would take that at all," he laughed and observed the cheetah once more, expression sobering. "So just how long have you had her? Was she raised here from birth?"
"I've had her nine years," Persea mentioned proudly. "Kehfta's parents were killed by my father on a hunt, and she remained. They were going to kill her too, but the young cub was able to be coaxed by one of the female slaves. My father, enchanted by this, wanted to bring her home as a gift to me. And so that is how I was able to keep her. She had been quite young, but I think she always remembered my father was the one responsible for her parents death.S he was never kind to him... or many of the guards or any other men. You'd be hard pressed to befriend her now. And though she is old for a large cat, do not think that makes her any less dangerous than she can be. She protects me at night, and this grand palace. You will find no disorder near me so long as she is around, be it from man or beast." ANd this she said boastfully.
"A proud beast. You can just by looking into her eyes," he said with a thoughtful expression. "And yet...you yourself seemed distraut by all that's happened. How can this be so if you have Kehfta here to protect you?"
Persea's eyes moved, as if reading his intents behind those words before she looked away, down to her animal.
"There are some places Kehfta can not follow. Ad some things she can not protect me from."
Attila nodded and bowed his head to her again. "I see. Forgive my presumption, Great Shah," he said solemnly. "But it does a heart good to find at least some solace in the day to day worry of your great work, and even from your pressing worries. If only for the moment. I think perhaps that I've overstayed my welcome, Your Grace, and it should do for me to depart. Thank you kindly for your hospitality."
Persea found herself simply staring at the man, as did Kehfta, but once she collected her tongue, she rose from the grounds and dusted off her skirts.
"Very well. Allow me to escort you out of my palace, Attila. It is the least I can do."
"The honor would be mine," he said, bowng and clasping his hands behind his back and letting her lead the way.
Once Attila was escorted to the gates, Persea paused a moment to admire him as she delicately tucked back some of her dark hair.
"I suppose this is goodbye, Attila," she said with a regal bow of her head. "May Hakeshna bless you on this day."
She really was beautiful, despite what others might have said. Attila would not begrudge them of their opinions. But he supposed their words were merely borne of the fact that they would never look at her face to face. Attila bowed graciously once more and his expression was curious.
"I hope I do not speak out of turn, but...to me this isn't goodbye. I hope we may meet again. Someday," he said with a small smile.
Her heart fluttered at such a statement, and perhaps a bit more eagerly than she intended, she gave a few quick nods of her head.
"Yes. If Hakeshna wills it, it will be so." And she bowed her head gracefully to him again. "Safe travels."
"Thank you Your Grace," Attila said, bowed his head and turned around gently, before quickly departing the room.
Persea watched at the man left the palace. She didn't know it, but she was at least a little bit smitten with him. Not that she was at all familiar with that sort of thing herself. Most of her life she had been brought up to be Shah, not how to find herself a husband. Her mother, though she had a few pointers for it- was someone she desperately needed right now. But who else could she turn to on the matter? Taj? Perhaps her High Priest might have some answers, and after seeing Attila was off and away safely from her palace, she rushed off to seek council from him.
And wasn't it ironic, the man she was starting to become interested in was the very same slave that defied her not even two weeks ago?