OOC: This is continued from this thread (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=16569.0).
--------
The tassels from her palanquin bounced along against the sway of the drapery that concealed the young Shah from the merciless rays of sunlight. It's flags towered sharply towards the skies, and a east-ward wind flapped them anxiously over head, the very noise and sounds of their shadows only increasing the anxiety growing inside Persea. And flanking all sides of her palanquin were the most strongest of men, who held their heads up high and carried the Shah and her closest slave, Malika, through the streets and towards her palace.
She was thankful that her entourage met with no delay, for trying to leave the Colosseum after such an event was chaotic, and she was thankful for the men who guarded her. She had never seen a riot before, but heard terrifying stories of times past when the people would turn into an uproar- and became a force to be reckoned with. It was so powerful, even one of the God-Kings of the past had fallen beneath their wrath- and this very fact terrified her like no other.
"Please, to the palace, swiftly." And she had kept near to her guards, and Malika, until she was now moving in the streets. She chanced but one glance back to the towering structure of the Colosseum with a frown. Her first time in the Colosseum had been sullied, and with it, her pride had sunk, as, she dared guess, her reputation. And she felt vulnerable for it, so the moment she was inside her palace, she commanded her men to bring to her the High Priest. She needed to consult him on this matter of two slaves defying her.
What should she do? A public execution? Exile? Flogging? Hanging? Behead them?
All of these thoughts rolled through her head as she paced about restlessly, while the train of her dress dragged across the floor in her wake like a silken river. She fussed over the sheer fabrics of her dress and the gold bangles adorning her arms held so much sweat, the decorative paints across her skin beneath her attire was beginning to run. And she hated imperfection as she screamed out for Malika to help her fix her crown, which was now askew, as was her wig.
And she was flushed, thought it was hard to tell through all of the layers of paint that decorated her skin. And she gave a huff, her nerves being so shot, she could have struck Malika when the girl accidentally yanked at her hair.
But then the massive doors opened in her Sanctuary and as the Shah whirled around, she was relieved at the man who stepped through the gilded doors.
"Taj!" She exclaimed, and rushed towards him, taking his hand and kissing at his cheeks in greeting, but also in haste. "Oh, you have missed it! Today was awful, simply awful!"
And her gold painted lips were trembling, and her jade colored eyes threatened to spill tears.
Taj was in his study, reed brush in hand as he took down notes from a document he was mulling over, when the doors burst open so abruptly his hand jerked--so his brush stroke went right off the page and onto the table. He closed his eyes for a second, reined in his annoyance, and pulled his face into its usual serene expression before he lifted his head and found himself looking at two soldiers.
Two antsy looking soldiers.
"Can I help you?" he asked, setting his brush aside and rising to his feet.
"Your Holiness, there's been some trouble," one of the men stated. "Her Majesty has requested you at once."
Trouble? Taj worked his face into an expression of concern even as it wanted to warp into one of interest. With a frown, he started for the door. "Take me to her."
One of the benefits of having his own wing in the palace was he had quick access to capitalize on emergencies. The soldiers opened the door to the Persea's sanctuary and Taj bustled on inside, long pleated robes swishing about his legs. No sooner had he entered the room when Persea herself came rushing to him, her greeting hasty--for she was quite obviously distressed.
Excellent.
"Your Majesty?" he said when he could get a word in, taking a step back so he could look her over as though wanting to be sure she was unharmed. "What happened? Are you hurt?" But then, seeing that she was otherwise okay, he let out a relieved breath. "Here, why don't you come sit with me and you can tell me everything. Fetch her some water!" he called to a waiting servant.
With a light touch to her shoulder, he directed her toward the plush cushions, and waited for her to take her seat before he could take his. "Now, take a deep breath. Whatever happened, you're going to be okay now. Alright? Now what happened today?"
He had an inkling. She had gone to the Colosseum today, after all. Perhaps she had been a bit too faint of heart to handle the bloodshed.
"Water?" she cringed at such a suggestion and shook her head of it as she took a seat upon a plushy chaise lounge nearby. "This requires wine, and lots of it!"
Frowning now more fully, she peered up into his hazel eyes, as she had done so many times before, in her youth,a nd now, in her budding womanhood.
"Today was horrid! Absolutely horrid! And now all of the Essyrni will see me as weak and unauthoritative!"
Her eyes threatened to spill tears, but somehow she had kept them back, as rage over took her, along with sadness and fear.
"Did you not hear the news? Oh, it was dreadful. Not only did I have to watch a woman fight, but command her death. And when I did so, her opponent refused! And then they both walked out! Just like that! Straight out of the Colosseum! Oh, you should have been there! But perhaps it was better you were not, for I then found the entire populace of the Colosseum upset! And now I am so angry and confused! Oh Taj, can you not help direct me in my time of misery? I ordered those offenders here, to deal with them properly beneath my own rules, my own roof, my own laws." Being as they apparently did not wish to obey her in the open air of the Colosseum! She took his hand now and squeezed them, eyes desperately glued to his.
"Tell me what I must do! How shall I deal with such offenders?"
Oh, if only her father was alive!
Taj took a seat beside her and turned to listen, brow first furrowed in concern, and then raising with surprise at what she described--and genuine surprise, at that. An Essyrni slave had rebelled, then? Maybe it was a tiny rebellion, but it was rebellion nonetheless. To refuse the Shah's direct order? To just...ignore it complete and walk away? For both slaves to walk away? That was no small matter. If a slave could disobey the Shah without consequence, what was stopping the people from disobeying her?
And they would disobey a leader they couldn't respect, couldn't fear.
The obvious solution was a very public, very bloody spectacle to handle that transgression.
Taj let out a low sigh and squeezed her hand back when she squeezed his. "I knew I should have gone with you," he said with a shake of his head. "I had a feeling this would be hard for you. The games can be...alarming the first time. The first few times, actually..."
Meeting her eyes, he watched her grimly. "I'm afraid the easy answer would be to execute them, of course," he answered at last. "And I have a feeling you already know that, that you've already considered that, otherwise you wouldn't have come to me for council. And you no doubt know that if you did that, your people would see you not as weak then, but as authoritative, strong..." He paused. "And fearsome."
Reaching out, he covered Persea's hand with his own, placing her hand between both of his. "No doubt, you know that's the proper choice, but not the right choice. Your Majesty, I urge you to make the right decision. I urge you to show them mercy. Killing them would be easy, but I know you, child. And I know you're not a murderer. You can be strong, you can command authority, and you can do it by being loved rather than hated. Anyone else would see them flogged and beheaded, their heads skewered to serve as a warning for others...but that's not you."
He looked into her eyes, expression grave. "This isn't an easy decision, Your Majesty. I don't envy you an ounce. But mercy can be as powerful a tool as wrath. Fear can make people unpredictable, angry...but if you spare them, the news will travel. Those slaves will tell their friends. And they will know you as a fair but just ruler, someone they can respect--because clearly, by their actions, fear was not working on them. If fear already wasn't working, more fear will only make them more volatile. When something isn't working, after all, you change it."
Taj smiled at her then. "And I fully believe you can be that change, Persea."
"Spare them?" What sort of cruel suggestion was this? The surprise was evident in her face, as Persea rarely wore her mask of emotion around him. "And what do I say to these two? Congratulations for defying me? You can go on with your lives and I am a fool to show you mercy?"
But he was right, and the prickling in her eyes showed it as she pouted.
"Oh, but Taj, what if that is not well recieved? What if there is no end to this insatiable power they seek? For what else would a slave want but power?- For that is what he can not have." She shook her head.
"They must think I'm a fool. But I can not let them think that, but oh- yes! The events were so startling I just... I do not understand it fully, and maybe I would have had my father not been so protective of me. And listened so obediently to my mother. Then, maybe then, I would not have been so surprised, and would have known how to deal with them! And of the show!"
Shaking her head, she mulled over the idea.
"Show mercy!" Oh, the idea made her laugh, but instead of laughing, she found herself suddenly in tears.
Taj remained calm even in the face of Persea's distress. When she had finished, he squeezed her hand.
"Your Majesty, please remember--these are slaves," Taj said, head slightly tilted. "And not just slaves, but gladiators. Uneducated men and women living as savages, tearing each other apart for sport. We cannot speak of these slaves as we do of people, Your Majesty. It's my belief that they had no concept of what they'd done, no idea of the kind of weight their actions carried."
He squeezed her hand again. "I would not believe their actions to be an act of deliberate defiance, but one of desperation. You said the man refused to kill the woman--have you considered they might know each other? As friends, family, even lovers? Slave or not, having to kill someone you're that close to would be...well, that would be unimaginable. Perhaps, even, at the order of the Shah herself."
He motioned for a servant to fetch a kerchief, and held it out to her when they did. "I doubt those slaves were thinking much of anything beyond saving their own skin. Slaves don't seek power. They seek survival, Your Majesty. Now please, dry your eyes; they're too pretty to be red. Today was not your fault, and nothing could have prepared you, and this day is not yet ruined. That's why you're here, and that's why you made the right decision to have them brought here. You can still save the situation--and save face."
Persea blinked. In a profound way, that made sense. But had she almost lost herself to grief by being so upset over slaves? But they looked like all other people...
sometimes it was hard to tell.
She lowered her green eyes in shame at the thought and took the offered kerchief and dabbed prettily at her eyes.
"You show me mercy, and now I must show them it..."
She could have laughed at such an idea if she didn't want to cry again.
"But what if it does not work? What if they wish to strike me?"
For the eyes of the man behind the helmet bore into her. What if the man wanted her dead?
"If they wish to strike you?" Taj gave her a startled look, eyebrows raised. "If they tried to strike you, they'd be dead before they took a step. Your guard will be present, Your Majesty. They wouldn't dare."
He gave a light shrug. "But I don't think they'll try to hurt you. I doubt that's even what they want--they likely just want to come out of this alive. No, I think they'll be terrified out of their minds, being lowly slaves dragged here for an audience before the Shah herself. They'll be expecting bloody punishment, after all."
Persea stared at him.
"So..... then we aim to surprise them?" she said with a blink. "To think, they come in fear.."
Like he had said.
"And come out with their lives.."
The idea was perplexing, yet confusing to her, even as it oddly made some odd bit of sense.
Taj couldn't help but grin at that. "Whether that was the intent or not, it's a little too late now; the summons was already given. Of course they'll be scared, and of course they'll be surprised. Any previous Shah would have them dragged to the arena and dismembered."
A servant arrived with the wine Persea requested, and Taj held a glass of it out for her. "But it's a good surprise. It's your chance to show that you're different."
But Persea wasn't sure she wanted to be different. It made her skin crawl.
"But I still feel they ought to be punished..."
It still seemed as if they were getting off to easily. Though maybe these fighters were just like dogs- for she knew beating her own hounds only made her feel terrible, and she had all but given up that practice when the guilt was too much. But sometimes her hounds could be quite the nuisance.
"Oh, you may punish them if you wish," Taj said. "Send them away to clean the latrines. Have them beaten. Make them shave their heads. But don't execute them, and don't torture them. See them kept in one piece. And consider..."
Taj sighed. "Consider the scriptures, Your Majesty. What the man did was bold, to be sure. But there are tales in the scriptures of men sparing their enemies in the field, and Hakeshna looked upon them favorably. Sparing their enemies didn't make them weak, for it takes a strong man to know when to use his sword, and when to stay his hand. I can council you, but I can't make this decision for you. You now have to decide whether you're strong because you use the sword, or strong because you abstain."
His words were so noble, so deep, she felt a.stirring deep within her breast. But truthfully, she wasn't sure she was strong enough for both.
"If it is Hakeshna's will..." Though part of her feared.this, she knew in her heart that he was right.
"Then come. Help me.prepare. I want to be as.ready for these slaves as I would for any diplomat I meet."
It was time to prepare herself for her own battle.
Rising to his feet, Taj offered Persea his hand--and offered her a reassuring smile to go with it. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
The caged wagon used to house the gladiator was worn and rusty and the wood had splintered here and there. It was too small to sit and so Agrian sat crouched in low ceilinged contraption and it rolled out through the crowded streets, with Habib at the helm. When they'd finally gotten under way, his rotund master had a severely pale look to him as if his dinner had failed to stay down and his stomach continued to protest, doing flip-flops around his belly again and again.
Which suited the bugger just fine. He needed to lose a little weight, Agrian thought grimly. His expression grew darker still when he noticed a splinter had gotten through his knees and he plucked one out with minor irritation. And just as he looked up the immaculate vision of the Shah's palace emerged from beneath the slabs of sandstone and thatched roofs.
He had to admit, the Shah certainly knew how to live in style. The palace was larger than any manor house his father had ever owned - where his damnable bastard of a half-brother now sat in his own right - and Agrian's eyes widened to take in the enormity of the abode. The mules that pulled the carriage were taken through the golden gates, large doors opened by ropes and gears hidden in the very walls of the palace courtyard themselves.
Agrian could feel his heart pounding in anticipation. He did not let it show, he couldn't for not only his sake, but for the sake of the one residing in the other barred carriage rolling along behind his. He at least had the courtesy of his helmet, one he refused to part with despite Habib's protests.
The little fat man could have his revenge later, for now they had a Shah to impress.
The slaves were pulled from the carriages when at last the stopped at the doors. Agrian cut his eyes to Yasmin, pausing for a brief second before Habib pushed him into the steps. Agrian fell hard, but was soon dragged to his feet and he hobbled along with bruises on his knees. But instead of being pulled through the doors, he was dragged out to the side, toward a servant's entrance before being shown inside.
Agrian's eyes were quick and he studied the hallway they were shown through, all the while Habib spoke behind him.
"You will not be allowed to taint Shah Persea's entrance hall. That is reserved for the most worthy. Not for rebellious slaves that don't know their place," Habib snapped.
Agrian smiled, though he didn't turn his head to look behind him. "Then what are you doing following me?"
Habib undoubtedly turned as red as a cherry, and was spewing out steam from his ears. Agrian was careful to keep his laughter internal as they were led into the audience chamber.
That wagon ride was the longest ride of Yasmin's life.
And not just because it was uncomfortable; she was used to discomfort, though the cramped space and bars made her feel like...like some animal on display. It was humiliating, but she supposed that was the point--and there wasn't much pride in a slave's life. But worse than that was the anxiety, the anticipation.
Because she wasn't the only one who had been summoned. Agrian had, too. Fidgeting, Yasmin picked at the skin around her fingernails and watched the wagon ahead of hers, wishing she could catch Agrian's eye, because he always seemed to have an answer, and right now she needed one. And even as she thought that, she hated herself a little for it, hated that she'd slipped up over the years and allowed herself to grow attached to the man--to view him, truly, as a friend and mentor, someone she could trust outside the arena, which was more than she could say about most people. It was a little embarrassing, this craving reassurance, but...
She just needed to know what made him so certain that they weren't both going to be executed, because he had seemed so confident in his answer when she'd expressed that fear earlier.
The wagons came to a halt before the palace, and by then she felt ready to shred the walls from sheer nerves. The palace was huge, making her feel ridiculously small in its shadow.
And within those walls, the Shah resided. And she held their very lives in her hands.
"Stop gawkin' and get out already! We don't got all day!" her master snapped, jerking her out of her daze. Climbing out of the wagon, Yasmin was relieved to be able to just stretch, but it was short-lived as her master gave her a push to get moving, and she saw that Agrian and his own master were already underway.
Yasmin met Agrian's eyes when he looked at her, gave a lopsided, nervous grin beneath her veil and wiggled her fingers in an awkward wave, hoping she didn't look as anxious as she felt. But then Agrian's master was shoving the man along and her own master followed suit. Yasmin winced at Agrian's fall--and noted that there were steps there, and watched herself so she, too, wouldn't take a spill with her master hastily pushing her along like she didn't know how to walk.
"You're to be on your best behavior," Yasmin heard her master say as they headed through a servant's entrance. "Ya hear? Try and act like an actual woman for once, if ya even know how. No funny business, no goofin' off..."
Yasmin couldn't help it. She laughed, a dry, closed-mouth laugh that came out in the form of a snort.
"Something funny about that?"
"This entire situation is funny, sir," Yasmin said. "How stupid you think I am, that you want me to be ladylike now, that I'd 'goof off' before the bloody Shah, that I might be executed for not being executed..." She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle more laughter--accidentally eating veil in the process. Which, of course, made her laugh harder. Tears sprang to her eyes and she shook her head, because nothing about this was funny, and even what she was laughing about was stupid, but her nerves were so frayed it was about the only thing she could do.
Because the alternative was screaming.
"It's hilarious."
Her nervousness might have out shined even the terrifying fear that resided within both the slaves awaiting their fate. She had bee bathed, groomed and properly tended to, and Malika, she realized, had never once left her side. But she needed her here, needed her now more than ever as she sat in a chair, perched much like a bird, as her slave finished tending to her hair.
Fine, thin braids adorned with bejeweled beads hung about her head, and her body, now glistening wtih gold paint and oils, glowed beneath the sheer fabrics of a new robe, and barely kept her youthful, naked body modest. But as an Essyrn, she had no shame in her body, and in fact, reveled in the perfection of her youth.
And she released a hot sigh, nerves steeling beneath her as she felt her palms grow greasy with sweat.
"That is enough, Malika. Please, get my crown, my septar, and the blue lapis lazuli necklace. The one mixed with the gold beads." And she gave a few impatient snaps of her fingers before glancing up at her High Priest.
"To show mercy," she repeated, and gave a dry, nervous laugh. "Do you think my father would approve?" Or would have done so? She couldn't say...
And what of her mother? She wasn't sure how she felt about her. Her mother was always a figure so far away from her- held up on a pedestal even far greater than her father....
She shook the thoughts away and peered up into Taj's light brown eyes, then when she heard Malika return, she smiled and turned to her slave.
"It would be easy if the slaves I had to deal with were you, Malika." she told her, and rose from her gilded stool and took her slaves face in her hands and kissed both her cheeks softly. "For you, you are like my sister. And my blood I could forgive." And she smiled at her, but even this simple gesture of affection did not relieve all of her nerves.
Drawing in a breath, she turned away and took a seat again, and waited for Malika to finish adorning her attire wtih the golden jewels meant to accent and bedazzle the youthful Shah- to remind all of her place of power and wealth, and to also amplify the truth behind the rumors of her beauty...
For as she sat there, she looked like the Jewel of the Desert- albeit, a sad and nervous version of one.
Malika's smile was brilliant as Persea showered her with affection. She needn't tell her mistress she wouldn't have blatantly disobeyed like that in the first place -- she was certain she already knew.
"Mistress, whatever your decision, it is the right decision. You are the Shah." It was a matter of simple fact to Malika... Who were the common people to judge whether her mistress's decisions were correct -- they obviously were, of course!
Perhaps it would sound harsh to say, but... Mercy was not what she would have expected... She loved Mistress dearly, but if she embarrassed her so terribly in front of so many, she would have expected nothing less than a harsh punishment...
Even with her supportive slave, she still felt her belly churn nervously. She placed a hand over her belly, then glanced to Taj.
"Mercy- but punishment. I think they deserve that. But what sort of things does one do to punish another's slave?"
One of the benefits of being a High Priest and someone held in such high esteem was that Taj had access to areas other people did not.
Such as the Shah's private quarters, where he could watch her change. Of course, he kept his observations subtle so she wouldn't notice, but having known her since her youth, he couldn't help but admire how she'd grown and filled out, nor could he help but appreciate the curves of her nubile young body. Priest though he might be, he was still a man.
But he could only enjoy it for so long, because it was right back to business.
"Your slave is correct, you know," he said, approaching her. "And you mustn't think of what your parents would do. You are the Shah, Your Majesty. You are not your parents. You must think of what you will do."
He paused a moment to think on her question, and a thought soon came to him. No. She was absolutely correct. Someone did need to be punished today. Having mercy on the slaves would be unpopular, which was fantastic in his eyes--but it wasn't enough. Persea was a smart girl, and the doubts she kept expressing showed as much. She knew, deep down, that mercy was the wrong decision. She knew the slaves needed to be punished, and though she was a gentle girl, though the idea of it obviously tormented her, she might crack at the end and follow in her father's footsteps anyway, because she was strong enough to know what leadership meant.
He couldn't have that.
He needed to redirect her.
With a low sigh, he shook her head. "Perhaps mercy is the wrong word choice," Taj said at last. "I suggested you show the slaves mercy, but you're absolutely correct--justice needs to be done today. I know you're not going to like this, and it pains me to suggest this, but..."
He met her eyes. "The slaves may not know any better, but their masters do. And they should have been properly training and disciplining their slaves to ensure something like this didn't happen. If anyone is to blame for today's debacle, it is the slaves' masters for letting things grow so out of hand. They should have seen the signs and broken them of such disobedience."
"Their masters?" Persea was taken back, her eyes going wide.
"Are you suggesting I punish them? But.." She blinked, not certain on what to say. "How?"
And was this Hakeshna's will? At times like these she really wished she had paid attention to the holy books and readings...
"Punish them as you would have the slaves punished, of course," Taj said simply. "With death. Or the removal of their slaves, at least, since they clearly don't have what it takes to handle them. They must serve as an example for other slave holders, so this day will not be repeated."
Persea's mouth fell open. She could have swooned.
"Kill them?" Or remove their slaves? SHe was dizzy, and found herself nearly falling over and had her slave Malika not been close by, she would have been on the floor for sure. Now clutching onto her for support, she paled and used all of her remaining energies to try to stop herself from shaking.
"You.. you think this is wise?A nd.. And Hakeshna's will?"
Oh, to think- she'd be showing mercy to not only slaves, but she would also be killing two Essyrni's instead! It seemed crazy, but in a twisted sort of way that had her feeling ill, it made sense.
But a sense of dread chilled her stomach- because she realized..
She'd be the one commanding such an order.
"M.. Malika!" She snapped her fingers. "My fan! Quickly! I feel feint! It's hot! Please! A breeze!"
"Your Majesty! Ah, please, come sit," Taj said, and lightly took her arm so he could lead her to her seat while they waited for Malika to fetch Persea's fan. It would be terrible if she fell and hurt herself.
He took a seat next to her, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "Your Majesty, please...I know this is difficult. And I wish there was some way I could spare you this decision. But we are running out of time. They'll be here any moment, and when you give your sentence, you must give it with confidence and certainty. I know you can do it."
Glancing away from her a moment, he let out a low sigh. "I believe this is Hakeshna's will, yes. I believe this is the right choice. I believe that, at the very least, if you execute the one who owns the leader, if his death serves as an example to the people, no one will dare challenge you again."
Persea dropped into her seat the moment it was presented to her and wilted her body towards the fan. Oh, was she ever feeling ill, and she found herself shaking, despite trying to will her self not to.
"Well... if it is Hakeshna's will..." she repeated softly. It took her a moment to compose herself, and almost an eternity to find her voice as she peered up at Taj with those glittering green eyes of hers.
"Then it shall be done. The slaves will be shown mercy, and resold to new, more appropriate masters- and I shall see to it that their purchaser is agreeable by hosting the sale myself." And she nodded, trying to find strength in her statement, trying to wear her mask once again.
"And to the men, their masters..." And here, she tried to envision the men as poisonous. "To the female warrior's owner, he will be cast out of society and shamed, forced to bear this failure for the rest of his days. But the man who owns that... that male warrior.."
And here her posture stiffened as she though back to how angry Agrian was when he looked at her. Oh! How DARE he look at her so! How DARE he cause such a fuss! Oh, if only but he could hang but oh...
"His master shall be publicly executed. He will be beheaded."
It was an effort not to smile as she snapped the bait right up, but Taj kept his mask in place, kept his expression grave. He nodded at her, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"You're doing the right thing, Persea," he told her quietly, and might have said more, but at that moment a servant came bustling into the room.
"Your Majesty, they've arrived," he said. "The slaves and their masters are waiting for you in the audience chamber."
Looking at Persea, Taj tilted his head. "Are you ready?"
The opulence of the audience chamber was apparent all around, paintings and gilded chairs, ornate carvings and sand stone statues of warriors of old, and the preserved heads of wild cats and basilisks and beasts of foreign lands. Admittedly, it was a lot to take in. Agrian however, made a mental note of everything he possibly could, from the positioning of the petrified animals, the chairs, and the guardsmen that stood at attention.
There was a raised dias at the center of the room, where a golden chair sat and a pillow beside, likely where the Shah's favored servant would reside, and before the golden throne there was step just below the dias to indicate the proper distance one was to stand before the glory of the Shah. Habib tried to steel himself, throwing his head back, his chest out and standing much taller than he really was.
Habib Kuvari Rassan was as arrogant as he was obese. Agrian was surprised in the three years he'd come to own him, the man hadn't gained any more weight than he already was despite his wont of gorging on delicacies, both foreign and local. Agrian was a full half a head taller than him, but that did nothing to abate his Master's sense of superiority, after all, what was a dirty, stinking slave in comparison to a man such as he, wrapped in the finest gems, metals, and silks? Despite everything he thought of himself, Agrian knew his master was feeling awfully small in that audience chamber.
Agrian lingered behind him, his head dropped and covered in that helmet of his. He knew he wasn't raise his head until otherwise directed, and he had his head angled just enough to Habib standing before the first step, from the tops of his eyes. He had to conceal an internal smile. Thankfully, he was successful.
And when the Shah was announced, Agrian watched Habib nearly stumble over in an effort to get to his knees in reverence, and remain that way until the Shah was properly seated. Habib grunted with effort to stand and bowed his head as he gazed upon the woman in all her opulence. "Oh great Shah Persea, please forgive my tardiness. When you summoned me to the palace, I attempted to arrive at once. Thank you for the opportunity to bask in your presence."
Agrian snorted. Thankfully, not aloud.
Yasmin and her master arrived on the heels of Agrian and Habib and took up their positions to their left. While her master stood tall and haughty (though the sweat beading his skin showed he wasn't as confident as he acted), Yasmin waited with her head bowed, hoping to look properly demure and humble. It was an effort not to fidget and pick at her nails, so she kept her arms at her sides, hands flattened against her outer thighs, to combat the urge.
Everything happens for a reason, she told herself as she waited. That was the teaching of Hakeshna. Whatever happened, it was written in the stars and out of her hands. She just had to trust that--but that didn't stop her from praying silently. The stuffed heads on the wall were certainly not helping, however; made her think too much about the execution that might be looming before her, and when that one came, there would be no Agrian to still the blade.
Funny how that worked, how she was more afraid of death now than she was in the midst of battle. Probably because when you were fighting for your life, you didn't have time to think about the "what ifs". Didn't mean she wasn't afraid when she fought, but at least she didn't have time to mull over the possibilities, and at least there she had a fighting chance. The idea of dying in battle, on her feet and giving it all she had, was less frightening than the thought of being restrained and cut down.
There was some pride in the former option, too. Pride and hope.
And then, the moment of truth. The Shah entered, and her master dropped to his knees in veneration. Yasmin's eyes widened and for a moment she froze, not sure if she should do the same. Would it be disrespectful for a slave to pay respect like that--interpreted as mocking, perhaps?--or disrespectful not to? She'd never been taught these things!
After a brief moment of internal panic, she dropped to her knees as well, bowing low enough for her forehead to touch the floor. She rose when her master did, face burning beneath the veil. Well, couldn't hurt, she supposed, to play it safe. Especially if she was already doomed.
"It is an honor to be here, Shah Persea," Yasmin's master echoed Habib, and while he praised her, Yasmin dared to cut a look at the Shah herself.
She hadn't been able to see her that well from the arena below, but she was beautiful--and surprisingly young. Younger than she had expected. Surprised, Yasmin found herself staring, before she realized she was staring and jerked her eyes away.
Persea was sitting on her gilded chair, but even upon her perch, she remained heads taller than the rest as her chair was positioned at the top of a series of pyramidal steps. Her head remained raised, her very visage- immaculate, as she rose her chin up just high enough when her guests approached that she took on the most regal of appearances.
Perfection was key, and as those green eyes remained fixed upon each of them as they entered, she was inwardly stunned to see the one slave still wearing his helmet. And it sent her blood seering. She found her finger nails gripping into the painted wood of her chair before she finally snapped her gaze back to the pair of merchant lords before her.
"Lord Rassan, Lord Darzi, I believe you both know why you are here." And she paused here only briefly before continuing, "Such actions of defiance can not be allowed. Not in Essyrn. Not in the Moraki. Not any where under my ruling." Her gaze turned sharper as she peered across these men, those who looked more like pigs than princes as she fought to curl her lip at them, but it was evident in her eyes how much she was angered. Turning towards her High Priest, just briefly enough to regain her confidence on the matter, she then returned her attention to those before her once again.
"Be it man, slave or beast, none will go without proper punishment for defying the Shah, the avatar of Hakeshna, the ruler of all Essyrn. But in the eyes of Hakeshna, I fear it is not the slave I can punish here today- but those men too ignorant to train them." ANd as she saw the looks in the men, she placed up a hand to order silence before she continued on.
"These slaves, whom you have done poorly to train, will be given mercy. At Hakeshna's own will, they will be sold to competent men." ANd seeing how the pair were trying to talk again, her eyes narrowed into angered slits as she glared at them, and back into silence the merchants had gone.
"But you, the pair of you who would dare own such property.." And here her voice rose in anger, like a whip, striking across the room. "It is you I have decided needs punished." And as she spoke, she rose from her chair and glared down at them. "These slaves can not know what they do, but you are men," A nd she pointed down at each of them. "And you are the ones who make their mold- and for this- I have already decided on your fate."
She waited a moment, the weight in the air, she could see, was causing both men to sweat like dogs.
"Lord Darzi, you will be marked and disgraced, and exiled from my lands. All of them." And her eyes flared like wild, green fire. "Any titles and ownerships here are forfeit. But you will keep your life. And you will forever live with this shame."
But just as she noticed Lord Rassan moving uncomfortably before her, her eyes snapped his way and her gaze turned venomous. She turned to him, moving smoothly, like a viper.
"And you," she went on, eyes narrowing. "For having the most ignorant and arrogant of all slaves, you sir, you will lose your head. Now.." Without so much as a second thought, she gestured to her guards. "Take them all away. The slaves to the barracks, the men to their cells. At dawn, his Lord Rassan's head will roll- and after that, Lord Darzi will be escorted out of Essyrn for good."
The words echoed in Agrain's mind without him physically flinching, but internally he froze at the decree of Habib's face. The master himself suddenly turned blue in the face, as if he were slowly being strangled to death and he had almost no words to utter until the Shah ordered for all of them present within the chamber to be taken away.
"BUT...BUT!" Habib squawked in futile effort as two guards came to take him, and his two men away. Agrian walked along willfully all the while he saw Habib struggle against his captors. "YOUR GRACE! Is this not excessive! I HAVE DONE NOTHING! YOU! GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!" He howled and growled and one guard grabbed him by the collar of his fine silken robes and dragged him off.
Agrian didn't know what to think of it all. That the Shah would extend mercy to his slaves and not his master was preposterous. Surely there was something else at play here, and not merely the act of benevolent sovereign. Agrian knew better than to suspect that. But of course the Shah had an image to uphold and the show of mercy to lesser creatures such as they, equivalent only to snakes and vermin, would work wonders on her image in the eyes of her people. After all, what was a king without a kingdom to rule, and a priestess without the masses to bow at her heels?
He churned that over in his mind as he was dragged off to the barracks.
The words echoed in Yasmin's ears, but it took several moments for them to register. Surely she had misheard. Surely the Shah hadn't said she was going to punish their masters!
But from the outraged howls of her master, Lord Darzi, and the sounds coming out of Lord Rassan, that was exactly what the Shah had said.
"This is outrageous!" Lord Darzi shouted, fighting fruitlessly against the guards that restrained him. "How dare you! I am innocent!"
As Yasmin was lead along by the guards, her head spun. It didn't make any sense! Why would the Shah punish their masters and not them? And such harsh punishments, at that! Not that she was complaining by any means, but...
Why?
She tried to catch Agrian's eye as they were lead along, but it was difficult with the guards jostling them and wrestling with their two masters. He had said they would be okay, that they wouldn't be killed. How had he known that? What was going on? Because this day felt surreal, and it felt like she was the only one that didn't know what was happening.
Well. Her and their masters.
As she watched Lord Faruq Darzi get dragged away, however, she managed to rein in her shock enough to met and hold his eyes--and smiled at him, surprised to find it was a genuine smile that reached her eyes. Whatever came after this, she was not sad to see him go, and she hoped his life would be miserable for what he'd put her through.
Just before they went their different directions, she blew him a kiss and waved while he glared bloody death at her. "See you never, Darzi!" she called. "Hope you remembered to pack!"
Persea watched, like a hawk on it's perch, as both slavers and slaves were dragged away. She could hear their frantic pleas, but even she- naive as she was, could tell that- between the slaves and their master...
well, perhaps she wasn't making an entirely bad mistake. But she could not help the pang of guilty anyways, and the doubt-
But she stole a glance towards the group but once before the gilded doors were sealed shut, and the noise echoed through her chamber.
It was here, finally alone with her Priest, slave and just a handful of guards did she sigh.
By Hakesha's name- what had she done?
Taj kept his expression properly solemn through it all, and when the slavers and slaves were taken away, he kept the mask on even then. Persea had done an excellent job, and had danced to his tune beautifully. It was almost too easy--but, of course, it was far too early to feel too smug.
Turning to her, he touched her arm to get her attention, for she was quiet and seemed lost in thought. It couldn't have been easy for her to do that, even though the scared girl had been gone in that moment, replaced by a fierce, ruthless Shah.
She would have made her father proud, if only her decision had swung in the opposite direction.
"You did well, your Majesty," he said quietly. "And you did the right thing."
At the touch, she broke- like a weakened piece of glass. She collapsed into his arms, sobbing suddenly, a hand to her face.
"Oh, Taj! Take me now, to the temple... for I must prey. Goddess.. I need her support now more than ever. I... I fear if I do not do it now, my whole body shall suffer under this insufferable conscience of mine!"
Arms going around her, Taj held Persea as she sobbed and lightly stroked her back, her hair, his face a pained mask of concern as though her distress hurt him.
"Of course, Your Majesty," he told her and, in a moment of impulsiveness, he reached up to brush a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Oh, I wish I could take away your pain. But Hakeshna, at least, can cleanse your spirit. It's not the same, I know, but..."
He smiled sadly and met her eyes. "A conscience is a beautiful but terrible blessing, Persea. I would be more concerned if you felt no pain at all."
Persea's pouty lips were trembling as she peered up at him.
"Then let us make haste. I will have Malika prepare me for travel, and we'll all go to the temple together." Turning away, she gestured to Malika and called out. "My crown! Fetch my crown, Malika! We're going to the temple!"
And the three of them were well on their way- and the guarded caravan moved like a serpent through the streets. The temple, thankfully, was not too far away, but it required a bit of travel, and the day was already hot. She ordered Malika to keep the fans going over both her and Taj,a nd spared a glance towards the priest but once as she nestled in beside him and took his hand, and squeezed it.
She just had to keep reminding herself- this was Hakeshna's will.. even if she herself did not completely understand what that was. And though she opened her lips to speak, words fell short as she peered up as the temple came into view- and whatever words were stuck in her throat were forgotten as their caravan came to a halt, and she was guided within.
Taj was silent during the trip there, but was quite pleased with the way Persea nestled in next to him and took his hand. Of course, it was only because he was her source of support and strength right now, a trusted religious figure, but that didn't mean he couldn't still enjoy it. He covered her hand with his other and looked ahead, expression stoic but mind working over what had just happened that day.
He was very interested in what the local gossip would be tomorrow after the execution, and very interested in what would happen when the news trickled down to the slaves. Slaves may be stupid, but even animals would capitalize on an opportunity when presented to them. If some were already being defiant, as those two had been, then what of the others? And what would happen when news spread that their defiance had worked? That it had gotten their masters punished?
He had a feeling the next week would be very interesting.
At the temple, Taj escorted Persea inside with Malika, and he lead them deep within the temple to a room with a window that sat facing the sun's current direction. He laid a prayer rug out for Persea and lit some incense for her, a scent that was supposed to be good for clarity of the mind, and then paused, his eyes seeking hers.
"Do you need me here, or would you like to be alone with Hakeshna?"
Persea moved to kneel on the prayer rug, but at the idea of being left alone, her hands suddenly shot out and took his.
"N-no. I wish for you to stay. I... I still have use for your guidance, and I feel I still need your support." For Hakeshna knew her own faith was not the best, but it was a good time to start believing in whatever power was out there to see her through this ordeal!
"Of course, Shah Persea," Taj said, and knelt down near her, facing her, his hands still in hers. He turned his hands around so he could hold hers and looked her in the eye. Goddess, she truly had grown into a beautiful woman, hadn't she? And those eyes, so unique, not usually occurring in Essyrni...she truly was the jewel of this desert.
It was a shame, really. A shame the Shah couldn't have been cruel or ugly. But...
"Everything happens for a reason," he told her. "Just remember that always. Today happened because Hakeshna wrote it into the stars. Hakeshna is trying to tell you something, Persea; all you have to do is listen, because I have a feeling there will be more to come."
"Listen!?" Her voice sounded desperate as she still clung to his hand. "Oh, but Taj- how can one simply listen after a moment like that?"
"You have to learn," Taj answered, thumbs moving over the tops of her soft hands. "Remember, Persea, Hakeshna works through you. You are Her avatar. It is natural to feel doubt, because we're human, and we're mortal, and that is our natural state--even the Shah. But She is closer to you than anyone else in this world. You just have to close your eyes..."
He passed one hand gently before her eyes. "...breathe in deep, quiet your mind, and listen to what She's trying to tell you."
Persea tried to obey, tried to listen and to everything he told her, but once her eyes were closed as she tried to clear her mind, tears began to stream down her cheeks hotly, as she was audibly trying to fight back sobs.
"Oh, child," Taj sighed, and made a bold move. He reached for her, arm sliding around her shoulders as he drew her closer to him as she cried. "Come here. It's okay. I know this isn't easy for you, but you're safe here. You don't have to fight it here. You can cry if you need to. There's no shame in it..."
"But I am Shah!" she cried out, and found herself succumbing to more sobs. "What Shah cries like this? To show such weak spirit and constitution? To show such doubt and uncertainty? Surely our goddess would not be so afraid!" She went, continuing to cling to him a she cried.
"Of course Hakeshna would not be so afraid," Taj said as he stroked her hair. "What would a goddess have to fear? What would frighten a goddess who created the stars and moon and earth, who knows every living creature better than we know ourselves, who knows how time began and how it will end?"
He pulled back a little so he could peer into her face, his hand cupping her chin and tilting her head up toward his. "You may be Her avatar, but you are still mortal, Persea. And She needs you to be mortal, or She would have come down here Herself. Only man can rule man, and it's by working through a human that She can connect with Her children best. She may be our creator, but people need your very human empathy and compassion."
Gently, he caught a tear with his thumb and brushed it away. "Hakeshna knows it's hard. It's a heavy burden for a woman to bear."
Persea looked up into his face, still crying as she grit her teeth.
"But perhaps that is my problem, for I was born a woman, Taj. If I were but a man, this would all be easier. But it seems our Goddess wishes to test me and I-" And here, she stopped herself before she confessed something stupid. Show casing doubt to her very own High Priest might not be a wise choice. For despite being this avatar, she wasn't even sure this Goddess she represented were real! But what she knew was real were the foods laid upon her table, the soft, sweet silks she wore, and the cold hard gaze that slave cast upon her in defiance that sent a chill to her bone.
She lowered her gaze now, shamefully so, and placed both of her hands upon his and gripped them, seeking comfort in a squeeze.
"Is there something that I can do? Or that can be done to ease my mind, Taj? I fear I will no longer be able to sleep again with such feelings plaguing me."
Taj fell silent a moment in thought, and then gave Persea's hands a reassuring squeeze.
"Only time, patience, and trusting that Hakeshna will lead you on your path will truly heal you," he said, "but I know of a few things you can to in the short term, things that can give you peace and sleep in the meantime. That can chase away the shadows."
He smiled at Persea reassuringly and motioned at a slave, signaling her to bring them a kerchief. When she did, Taj took it, offered it out to Persea, and whispered something else in the slave's ear. She bowed and took her leave, and Taj turned back to Persea.
"First, you must eat. You need your strength. You need to stay healthy during these trying times. This may be Hakeshna's temple, but your body is Her true temple. You must treat it as such. It's easy to neglect it and forget that when your mind is preoccupied. You may not feel hungry right now, but the next remedy I'm going to suggest will help with that, too."
As though on cue, the slave returned, carrying with her an ornate hookah. She set it down before them, and Taj motioned Persea toward it. "Have you smoked before?"
Persea's green eyes went wide at such a question. She shook her head and glanced down at the thing.
"No, but I've seen father do this many times." And then she looked up from it at him, a shy, curiosity in her eyes.
"Will this help me?" she asked, innocently.
"It will," Taj said with a smile. "Your father, and many others before him, have long discovered the hookah's many benefits. It will relax you--but also give you greater clarity. Of course, it may also just put you to sleep, but you mustn't downplay the importance of rest."
Placing the pipe to his lips, he took a small drag. A mixture of cannabis and shisha, it was flavored with mint and tasted quite pleasant. He blew the smoke out in a small stream and held the pipe out to her. "Here. Go ahead and try it. It tastes like mint."
Taking the end of the pipe, she peered at it briefly before biting onto the tip and inhaling-
but she took in too much and the chilled smoke made her cough as she pushed the pipe away and covered her lips while she sputtered.
"Ah! Are you okay?" Taj asked, eyebrows raising as Persea choked. Which wasn't unexpected; if she'd never done it before, she wouldn't know what to expect, or how much she should take.
"Take a little less next time," he said, "and don't breathe in quite so deep. It's a little different at first, but you'll get used to it. Do you want to try again?"
Persea blinked back some of her tears from her coughing fit, and once she cleared her throat and caught her breath, and was breathing a bit easier, she gave a nod and looked down at the pipe sheepishly.
"Yes... father always said practice makes perfect."
Thought he second puff still resulted in another cough, but by the fourth one, she was doing much better, and the effects of the smoke were helping her to relax as she took another leisurely drag and exhaled the cool smoke up towards the ceiling.
"This is definitely an interesting practice," she mused, finding she did like the effects of the hookah, but she was still trying to get used to the taste.
"Interesting? You could say that," Taj said with a smile, watching her. She seemed to be having an easier time of it now, which was good, because if this became a habit, well...
He'd have to see how she'd do with opiates.
She was already young, impressionable, and thus far easy to control, but why take chances?
But he let none of those thoughts show on his face.
"How are you liking it?" he asked instead.
"Well, the results are what I desire, but the taste... I suppose I'll have to get used to." And then she peered at Taj curiously. "Unless you know of a way to change the flavors? To something a bit more... sweet?"
"Oh, that's simple enough," Taj said, shifting a little so he could sit cross-legged. "A mere parlor trick, in fact. What flavor does my lady desire?"
"Oh, something like nectar, or even something like a fruit would be wonderful."
"As you wish, my lady," Taj said, and lightly touched one of the colorful beads on one of the many bracelets circling his wrist. The bead turned from blue to white, and whether Persea noticed the subtle action or not, was up to how observant she was. He motioned toward the hookah.
"Try it now. You should find it tastes of peaches. But if you'd prefer something different, I'd be happy to oblige."
Persea's eyes lit up. She was too elated at the idea she could take in peach flavored smoke to notice what he had done as she moved forward to try it, drawing in a deep drag through a smile, before slowly exhaling that.
"That's exquisite." And she tried it a second time, with a subtle moan. "But now it's making me thirsty for something with peaches," she told him with a sheepish smile. "What other flavors might I try?"
"Any flavor you like," Taj said. "Just name it, and it shall be done. And in the meantime, I'm sure I could have a slave fetch you some peaches."
With a light chuckle, he pat her hand. "Don't be alarmed if you feel unusually hungry during and after smoking. It's one of its many effects, and it's perfectly normal."
"Ah," she said, and went on to enjoy another drag. "Yes.." she said, then exhaled. "I think some peaches would be lovely." And she went on to ponder over what flavors she could request. To think- she could ask for anything at all!
Motioning one of the attending slaves over, Taj said, "The Shah desires peaches. See if any are available."
While the woman bustled away, he turned back to Persea. "Hopefully she'll be able to procure some," he said with a grin, and reached over to take a small drag from the pipe himself, before handing it back to Persea. He made an "O" with his lips and puffed out a couple of lazy, peach-flavored rings as he watched Persea, noting that she seemed to be enjoying herself now.
Good!
"So what do you think of this now?"
Persea's eyes lit up.
"I think I could get used to this activity. Perhaps you could teach me to blow those smoke rings like you do?"
"Oh? You like that, do you?" Taj said, smiling. Well! This was working out rather nicely! It seemed the smoke was doing its job, for Persea seemed far more relaxed now, far more lighthearted.
He scooted a little closer to Persea. "It's not too complicated, but it takes a little practice and patience. I'll teach you the easy way first, and once you get that, you can do more complicated things, even make them spin. But for starters..."
He handed Persea the pipe. "Inhale some of the smoke, but not all the way--you're going too want to keep it in your throat. You'll have to try a few times, probably, because it might make you choke at first. Move your tongue towards the back of your throat, then make an 'O' shape with your lips and blow some smoke out. Tap your cheek as you blow," he said, tapping his own cheek in demonstration. "It'll make the smoke come out in rings. It's the beginner way of doing it, until you get used to it enough to try the other ways, but it's a good start."
He grinned. "And it's a fun thing to break out to impress people."
Persea's eyes shined at the idea. She was one who desired to impress, after all- she was the face of not only her entire empire, but that of her Goddess, as well. Giving an enthusiastic nod, she took the pipe to her lips and did as was told. She was like an eager puppy, and just as he had warned, the first few times she tried she choked. Coughing out the smoke burning her lungs, it took her three tries to get it, but when she did, a small, wavering smoke ring came out. And as it did so, she gave a squeal of delight- which only ended in a victory fit of coughing and she, coarsely asking for a drink. And despite her throat burning (from her coughs, not the cooled smoke) she knew she'd be trying this again the moment her throat was cleared.
Once she had a goblet of wine to drink, she downed it quickly and released a sigh soon afterwards and licked at the droplets of wine that remained on her lips. She turned to Taj just then, her smile broadening as she went to try the smoke rings again. Her first few attempts were shaky, but after more whine and blowing, she was laughing and blowing smoke rings like a pro.
And through a laugh, she found herself asking, "So what is this other method, Taj?" And she leaned in closely to him, for they had been seated quite close. "You said there was another way... aside from me tapping my cheek." She did, after all, desire to impress. SHe wanted to learn how to blow the smoke without help from her hands at all.
"You're a natural!" Taj said, pleased to see her laughing--but unsurprised. That much hookah and wine would do it! She was sure to sleep well tonight--if she didn't end up napping earlier.
"Now, the way true professionals do it, without their hands, will take some practice. So don't be discouraged if it doesn't work right away. But what you want to do is make an 'O' with your lips, covering your teeth, and hold the smoke in your throat. Then...hmm...it's a little difficult to explain, but you want to sort of lightly cough--without actually coughing. It uses the same muscles and it's the same sort of motion, if that makes sense. Do that while releasing a small bit of air."
Taking the pipe from her again, he took a drag and demonstrated, releasing thick rings, and just to be a show off, he gave the last ring a backspin. With a grin, he handed it back to Persea. "It'll take some experimenting, but there's plenty left in the hookah. When you get really good, you can do other tricks, like make them spin, or put one inside the other."
Persea made a face, brow wrinkling as she digested this all. It sounded complicated enough- though she guessed it would become simpler once she figured out the rhythm or trick to it. Still thinking it over, she figured on giving it a try, but when she went to 'cough' or whatever it was she was meant to do- she instead, choked on the smoke and doubled over into a coughing fit long enough to thoroughly moisten her eyes with tears.
Taj bit back his laughter, not wanting to upset her, though he knew this was prooobably what was going to happen on her first attempt. Reaching out, he pat her gently on the back and lightly rubbed, as though that would help soothe her choking fit.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and offered her a cup of the drink the servants had brought earlier. "Here, take deep breaths, clear the smoke out of your lungs, and take a drink. Like I said, it'll take practice! You may want to get more accustomed to the easy way, first, get used to how the smoke feels in your throat. It can really dry you out!"
Once Persea caught her breath, her eyes went wide.
"Now you warn me about the dryness of smoke!"
And she fought another cough again before cringing and taking in more wine.
"Perhaps it would be wise to halt this practicing. At least for now. Are you hungry, Taj? I am famished. We should dine on pig roast. I know it's your favorite, as well as mine."
"Why, that sounds lovely, my lady," Taj said, and he rose gracefully to his feet before offering her his hand with a smile. She looked in much better spirits now, thank Hakeshna, and between the food, hookah, and wine, she would no doubt sleep well tonight.
She would need the rest, for what was to come later.
As usual, dining was a pleasure. The meals prepared for the Shah were to be fit for a God- for after all, she was Hakeshna's vessel. After the smoke and wine, Persea found herself eating a lot more than usual, and felt a bit bloated, if not, tired as she draped a hand over her lips to hide a yawn.
"So much in one day, I would not be against a nice nap- or to retire early," she went on, stretching out her long, thin limbs.
All of that was unsurprising to Taj, who had imbibed his share of cannabis and knew the cravings it could cause.
Still, it was amusing to watch such a tiny, diminutive woman pack away twice the amount he ate! Where did she even put that?
Fighting back his amusement, Taj reached out to pat her hand. "I think that would probably be best," he said. "You've had a long day, and you'll need your wits about you tomorrow. Would my lady like me to escort you back?"
Persea was feeling quite comfortable, and very sleepy. She nodded to Taj when he suggested the escort, and didn't waste any time in latching on to his arm. She leaned into his side, still smiling.
"Thank you, Taj. The smoke and wine were exactly what I needed. Your wisdom never ceases to amaze me." And with a content sigh as they walked the halls, she then added, "I'm glad you are here to guide me. To become the Shah... after all that had happened.... it's just good to have someone like a family still near and at my side."
Family? Ick...
Taj's thoughts were far from familial.
But he bit back the expression of distaste he felt tugging at his face, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose or curl his lip, and instead let his mouth curl into a gracious smile.
They soon came to a stop before her quarters, and Taj dipped his head in a bow and caught her smaller hand up in his so he could press a kiss to the back of it.
"Always a pleasure, my dear," he said. "You know you can always come to me about anything, correct? Anything at all, political or otherwise. I'll always listen without judgment."
The kiss to her hand, as simple as it may be, drew a warm flush to her cheeks. She honestly meant what she said. Taj had always been a figure in her life. And she trusted him above all else. Perhaps it was why she did not notice what was behind his smile, or could ever doubt his intentions.
"Perhaps... but you know your ears might bleed with all I inquire," she informed him, eyes dancing with delight he'd even offer. "But for now," she draped a hand over her lips to stifle a yawn. "For now, I must rest."
Bowing her head to him with as much practice grace she had learned, her green eyes raised now to meet his eye's as she smiled warmly.
"Take care, Taj. And may Hakeshna always bless you."
Taj's bow to her was deeper, and with a gentle smile her way, he turned to leave. "Sleep well, Persea. May Hakeshna bless you always," he said, and shut the door behind him.
She had a long day ahead of her.
And so did he.
Her sleep had been splendid. Definitely more exceptional after she had a taste of the hookah, Most pleased with this discovery, she was in good spirits as she awoke and called for her bath and her High Priest.
"I wish to see him. Now. I need to thank him for what he has done," she went on with a regal, starry eyed grin as her ladies began to remove her robe.
One bowed and made her way to fetch Taj, and in the meantime, Persea stepped into her bath and sighed. Even the bath felt like heaven. She would have to learn more of these techniques from Taj. It helped remove just about all that ailed her. But part of that was just because she didn't even bother to think about it and just...
Well, took this time to indulge.
Taj was running through his morning rituals when a servant came to call. Apparently, the Shah had requested his presence at once, and far be it for him to deny her! Curious as to what she wanted, and curious as to how she was faring this morning, Taj put out the incense he'd been burning, straightened his robes, and let the servant lead him from the adjoining temple to the palace proper.
The servant took him to Persea's chambers, which was not so unusual. Perhaps it was a little improper, a little informal, but he was her spiritual guide and spirituality was an intimate thing in and of itself. However, what he hadn't been expecting was for Persea to be in the process of bathing. It was the humidity that tipped him off two seconds before the servant lead him right into her bathing room, and...
Well. And there she was. Naked brown skin glistening with water, looking like a tempting beauty straight out of a classical painting.
Taj was a professional--but it still took a lot of willpower not to devour her with his eyes.
"Your Majesty," he said with a deep bow.
The moment she saw him her eyes brightened as she was quick to stand up in the bath, waters gushing down her body as she rushed to embrace him. And she held him fast to her, nestling in in a pose that made the two appear as lovers. And when she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him with starry eyes.
"I could not wait to thank you for last night!" she gushed and took his hand, squeezing it gently, but excitedly. "Your knowledge pleases me so, I'd like to keep you even nearer to me. This duty as queen of Essyrn is quite trying, but last night... It seemed my dreams were no longer fitful. And i had to thank you." And she leaned up on her toes and gently placed a warm, wet kiss to his cheeks.
"And also to say, I hope we can make taking up the smoke, as a daily occurrence."
...Well.
It was a good thing Taj had spent much of his life learning discipline and meditation, had learned the power of mind over matter, because if he was a younger, undisciplined man, his enjoyment of her body would have been very obvious. She embraced him, wetting his robes, but he didn't mind at all. How could he, with a beautiful, naked woman pressed flush against him? he almost returned the embrace out of reflex, but laying his hands on her while she was like this? That would have been overstepping his boundaries.
As much as he would love to feel the sleek softness of her skin under his fingers.
As much as he would love to do more than just touch, but also taste, and see her cheeks flushed from something more than just the water's heat.
Those thoughts were not helping control the stirring in his groin. When she finally pulled back, he smiled serenely and dipped his head in acknowledgment. "It pleases me to hear that, Your Majesty, and I would be more than happy to continue helping you. I have many more combinations that you might like to try, different flavors--and even different strains of the plant which can provide different, but equally pleasant, effects."
Feeling a little bold, deciding to push those boundaries just a little, he reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. "There are many things I am willing to teach you."
"Good!" She nodded and turned to her scribe. "Let it be known on this day how gracious the Queen of Essyrn is for the undying efforts of her beloved visor and holy friend."
Just what she was to be thankful for she left to the imagination. Her smile however, hid not an ounce of her joy.
"Are you very busy today?" she inquired, eyes still large and child like in their enthusiasm.
Holy friend, indeed.
Taj kept his eyes fixed on her face, though they had dipped to her breasts when she wasn't looking. She had grown from an awkward child into quite the beautiful young woman, with those soft, untouched curves he would love to feel. But he smiled at her enthusiasm, hiding away those thoughts, her eyes revealing the young girl behind the royal mask.
"For you, Your Majesty? I live only to serve you," he said with a bow and a playful smile to show he was just being overly formal to tease her. He straightened back up and tilted his head in thought.
"No, I have no plans today that can't be rescheduled."
"Then you are mine!" she gushed. "Come, I wish to learn more of your wisdom on things like the smoke. Even perhaps.." she added, a little sheepishly. "Some more of that, too."
Then he was hers? Hakeshna, did she even think before she spoke?
But Taj only smiled. As long as she was willing to learn, there was so, so much he was willing to teach her, so many firsts he would like to share with her...
"There are many other blends you can try," he said. "I'll send for another. In the meantime, what was it you wished to learn?"
"You ask for specifics, but I wish for you to give me options. Knowledge can not be acquired from a simple whim. I could ask why the sky is blue, but I know the sky is there and it is a question many have sought before. No," she paused to shake her head and placed a hand on his. "I want you to bring me the questions, let me pick; and you then give me your answers." She smiled at that, very much satisfied with how she replied.