“That’s… good,” Nalini said, unsure as to what she was meant to say. Razilan had been a man of debauchery until their father’s revolt, seven years ago. At the Battle of Fort Orchard, he had taken an arrow to the shoulder. After having it removed, Razilan had thanked the Divine and His Messenger for the arrow not piercing him several inches lower. And he had vowed then to lead a devout life and had kept his word ever since. “Father would like to speak with you,” Nalini said. “Please go to him.”
“Of course.”
Subsequently, Razilan smiled at their aunt to bid her goodbye and stood up. His broad, warrior’s physique casted a shadow over Ríma, before he walked away.
Nalini did not move. Normally, she would have followed her brother and left Ríma alone. But Nalini had yet to speak with her aunt since her arrival at Flourish, the capital of the Kingdom of Al-Jaraba. Now was as good a time as any to talk to her. Plus, if she could find out what had made Razilan walk with her, Nalini could then gauge the purpose of Ríma’s surprise visit.
Nalini turned to look at her aunt and was spell-bound by her striking features. At forty-two, Lady Ríma was near two decades older than her. But the years had been kind to Ríma. Her olive skin was smooth, with few wrinkles to note; her unnaturally straight, dark hair still had its healthy, colourful shine; her cheekbones were chiselled as if from stone; her slim figure was elegant; and her eyes glowed like potions of molten amber. How did a woman age so gracefully?
She’s a witch, for sure.
“Princess Nalini,” Ríma said, in her melodic voice. “I rode to the capital to speak with His Majesty, Sultan Daquan, in person. But I will soon take my leave. Do you know if I will have the chance to speak with His Majesty? Prince Razilan refused to answer me.”
Heat rushed to Nalini’s face, and she smiled in an attempt to conceal her discomfort. There was no chance that Ríma was going to speak with her father. The Sultan had not permitted any visitors in months, not since the Skin Scales had spread to his face. He had claimed that he did not want anyone outside of his immediate family to know the extent of his illness, even his brother, Lord Talekh of Date-Palm Port and the Guardian of the East.
Nalini had sensed that her father’s decision had more to do with his vanity and pride than fear of rumours spreading. They spread regardless, after all. Either way, Nalini could not go against her father’s wishes and tell her aunt the truth. “I would not want to overrule my brother,” Nalini said, carefully. “How fairs my uncle?”
Ríma raised one of her immaculately plucked, arching brows. She knew that Nalini had asked about Lord Talekh to deflect conversation away from the Sultan. Nalini could only imagine how that would fuel the little her aunt thought of her. “Talekh is well,” Ríma said. “While I was not initially happy to marry the brother of Sultan Daquan, Talekh is devout. In addition, he treats my daughter, Ahnja, and my son, Samu, from Cadman like they were his own, and he dotes upon our twin girls as a father should. I could not have asked for anything more, certainly not after the revolt.”
Nalini nodded. Lord Cadman Gherda had been the Lord of Date-Palm Port before Daquan’s Revolt. He was a cousin of Sultan Jashan the Fanatic and Lady Ríma’s first husband. Lord Cadman had allied himself with Sultan Jashan during the revolt, until being taken captive after his defeat at Fort Orchard. He had spent the rest of the war in captivity before Sultan Daquan had beheaded him when it was all over, in exchange for allowing his last living son to live under Talekh’s lordship. “I… am happy to hear it,” Nalini said, again unsure as to what else to say. “My uncle is a good man. A sensible one, too. I am happy that your marriage is… a happy one.”
Contempt oozed from Ríma’s eyes as she dulled the amber in them, seemingly on command. “Talekh would have liked to have ridden with me to Flourish,” she said. “He wanted to see His Majesty again. I fear he may not now.”
Nalini froze. She knows. “W-why do you say that?”
Ríma stood up. Even though she was smaller than Nalini, her presence made it seem like she were looking down upon her niece. “Talekh had to remain at Date-Palm because war is coming,” she said. “Is His Majesty aware of the threat being posed to his eastern borders?”
Nalini blinked like a doe. Her face mirrored her lack of knowledge on the matter, making her look stupid against her aunt.
Nalini opened her mouth to question Ríma as to whether it was the Kingdom of Sharaf or the Kingdom of Zufa that was threatening Al-Jarabra’s eastern borders. But to ask would have made her look even more stupid. It was better to wait and ask those who would not think her a fool for asking. Now that Nalini was the royal treasurer, she would be on the council and would find out these matters naturally.
Yet, that would not help her on whether or not Sultan Daquan knew of the threats to the east; the question that Ríma was asking her about. Now.
“It matters not,” Ríma said, smiling widely. “Prince Razilan will see to the threat.”
Nalini raised a brow. “How?” she asked. “Only the Sultan can-”
“Nalini! Nalini!”
Nalini spun round. Emilio halted behind her. Nalini furrowed her brows, as her husband bent over and panted. Emilio Duasta, the third son of King Fransisco II of Volído, the heathen kingdom across the Trade Sea to the north-west, was short, portly and preferred eating to exercising. It was small wonder he was out of breath after running. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“You’ve got… to come inside,” he said, in between heavy breaths. “His Majesty has died.”
2
-What Did You Discuss, Brother?-
(Nalini)
Emilio’s words pierced Nalini like an arrow to the heart. Her father was dead? She had left him only a short while ago, and he had been in his best spirits in recent weeks. How was he dead?
I should never have left his side. The Sultan would never have slipped from this world if she had stayed. She should have stayed with him while Amina had fed him and got someone else to look for Razilan. Then, her father would still be alive.
“Nalini?” Emilio asked. “Did you hear what I said?”
Her husband’s voice sounded distant and it echoed inside her. Her head shook, like someone else were controlling it. “What?” Nalini said.
“It’s quite all right,” he said. “I was saying how sorry I am for your loss, that I cannot believe His Majesty is gone. Also… well, as you spent a lot of time with His Majesty, do you know if Sultan Daquan had any last requests?”
Nalini back into focus. “Yes!”
She had no idea if Razilan or anyone else knew of her father’s request to be burned. So, she spun and marched back in the direction that she had come.
“Wait!?” Emilio shouted, panting after her. “Where are you going?”
Use your head for a change. Now that her father was dead, Razilan was the Sultan and he would be making the decisions. And the chances were that Razilan was close to their father. “You need not follow me,” Nalini said, as she went inside the palace again. “You will be more helpful if you look after Payam for the moment.”