[Reminder: This story contains explicit sensual content, violence, mature themes, and references to trauma/abuse. Reader discretion is advised.]
Salīa was plenty hungry but had no interest in attending dinner. Yet knew the servants knocking every ten minutes were not going to stop until she had.
Surprisingly, Bazil had already been in the dimmed and candle-lit dining hall. Even more so, it seemed Bazil and Prince Naca were talking quite closely.
Then, to top it off, there was a woman in her third decade, covered head to toe in jewels, who plopped herself right beside Bazil. He even smiled at her as they spoke.
An irritating itch stirred up within Salīa's chest. Prince Naca noticed, having smiled widely at the sight of her.
"Please sit," he patted the seat beside him.
Bazil glanced over.
"Princess Salīa," this woman lifted and bowed.
"Oh, it's you," Salīa said, only aware of how rude she sounded after. "Nice to see you again."
The woman was a neighboring noblewoman esteemed for her art and is known to love jewels and traveling the isles throughout the year.
She was known for not keeping track of worldly affairs and refrained from hearing too much bad news.
"You're so grown. I'm assuming you're out here on adventure just as your mother loved. Speaking of, how is she?"
The air went stiff. Salīa touched on her neckpiece, soothing herself with its tranquil feel. Bazil whispered to the woman, and she quieted.
"I apologise. I saw Mikayla the other day, as she used to be a…let's say a mercenary for me…but I didn't hear of that. Forgive me. It's terrible to hear Salazā is going through such. Please, eat. Don't let me ruin your mood."
Salīa barely spoke as dinner went on, while Prince Naca just watched her.
It was Bazil and the noblewoman who spoke mostly, as they had met mostly through Bazil's cousin, Mikayla, enough times before.
Seeing how Bazil's harshened face eased so easily at the woman's jokes, Salīa cracked her jaw a few times.
"I'd love for you to be my personal guard," she whispered to him.
Salīa cleared her throat.
"I don't think that remark is even remotely appropriate, do you?"
The tipsy noblewoman looked up to Salīa and chuckled.
"How funny. Of course, I'm just teasing. But he's so handsome, I can't help but forget myself."
"Forget yourself all you like," Salīa said, lifting her fork and knife. "But do not forget me."
The warning was quite clear, and the noblewoman seemingly sobered up.
Salīa hadn't intended to be so churlish, but thought after thought was cluttering her mind.
She nodded to Prince Naca, who poured her a drink, and they toasted. It was Bazil now who cleared his throat.
"Of course, I won't forget you. How can anyone?" the noblewoman lifted her own drink. The remark was open to interpretation, but neither dared speak on it. "Can your guard drink with me?"
Bazil refused as she was about to pour.
Salīa then smiled and said, "No, but he can drink with me."
She attempted to pour for him, but he blocked it, his eyes finally meeting hers. It was an awkward moment, one that only Prince Naca knew how to brush over, having drunk on and encouraging the two women to do the same.
Silence stretched for a while, until dessert arrived. It was one of Salīa's favorites, and she dug into the creamy tart mercilessly, biting into every bit of the flaky crust, holding it and savoring each sprinkle of cinnamon, yet when she swallowed, it just felt cold.
A servant came in and handed a small binding of paper with a large title reading Rūmor on it. The noblewoman lit up and eagerly went through the pages, nodding to herself.
"Finally. I swear, your majesty, when are you going to start having copies of these delivered on this side of the realm?" she asked Prince Naca.
"I thought you didn't care for gossip."
"That's because most gossip is made from dust and should be treated as such. But everything on Rūmor is made with motes of gold."
Salīa had heard of this Rūmor before, which circulates mostly in the inner world, sharing news of the realm, both serious and silly.
The noblewoman, seemingly oblivious to what manners were, continued to read at the table. She kept laughing or shaking her head at each turn of the page.
When she saw the part talking of Salazā, she sighed and said, "Poor Salazā."
Yet moments later, she was laughing again. She finally got to the last page, which shared future events and raised a brow.
"Do you really think Amari will be opening up during their Paya Parade just to host the Ala-Bala Tournament? I mean, the King of Amari is the richest, so I'm sure it'll be enjoyable. But do you really think they'll open up their gates? What if they're still using magic?"
Salīa and Bazil perked their ears. It had been something that they've been hearing often enough, and even they wondered too.
"King Jaqiro does have uncontestable wealth, and no doubt, Amari magnifies this truth," Prince Naca said. "I've never been there, but I'm also aware of how this land is known for being a land of magic and love.
Yet they've sworn to open their lands and apologize to the crown of Khī, and so we can only assume that they're honoring their words.
You can't be a true leader of a land if you're leading your people to doom. Otherwise, they'd be better off not opening their land at all. What do you think?"
Salīa felt Prince Naca's eyes gazing.
For the longest time, I've wanted to see Amari. And that desire sometimes surpassed any other. I've wondered all sorts of things. What the leaders were like. The people. The land itself. Their endless festivities, like the infamous Paya Parade.
Their foods, animals, and cultures. I've even secretly wondered how they use magic there. But now…I just wonder where my family is.
How the people of Salazā are coping.
And why Salazā was attacked.
"Amari is one of the longest-standing nations of Khī. They may be elusive, but they are not illusive.
History shows that even if they dress their words, their meaning is still forthright. Just as a guardian can appear enchanting wearing shiny armor and hoisting an ornate sword, their sharp strike will be felt all the same."
"The way you speak sends chills through me," the noblewoman shook her head. "It's not exactly soothing. So, are you saying you think they intend to host the Ala-Bala Tournament and apologize, but that doesn't mean they've stopped using magic?
If that turns out to be true, then they might as well not apologise at all. Palosa will strike out a land for such a crime."
How did magic become such a crime in the first place? Salīa wondered. She knew the answer, but it left her with more questions. Though she was too tired to share these thoughts.
"Nobility or not, one should be careful not to so openly demerit an upper land," the chief guard warned from afar.
It reminded Salīa of how this chief guard had also scolded those travelers.
That's right. Amari and Salazā are bonded lands. Speaking ill of Amari is an adjacent way of doing so to Salazā.
The noblewoman nodded but sighed.
"I guess I'll just have to wait and see Amari myself. I also haven't been. I wonder if there are any potential suitors for my sister or me. I only know that the king's brother, Prince Jaqoro, and Princess Kailani III have a child, but I assume it's quite young.
Though I have heard that King Jaqiro has children. But who knows how many. As long as there's a handsome prince in there somewhere. But then again, I heard King Jaqiro is looking to marry, but he has several women to play with."
Salīa sighed.
"What?" the noblewoman boldly asked, finishing her drink. "Do you have your eyes on King Jaqiro? Or maybe one of his children?"
Salīa could feel her face pull tight with restraint.
"Unless you're already sworn to King Naca over here, I'm sure he'd be happy."
It was now Prince Naca who cleared his throat.
"Oh, I know. Maybe it's not a royal at all. Don't you have a thing for generals?"
With that, she leaned over and kissed Bazil's cheek, having Salīa stand up about to yell, already having knocked her cutlery over.
"Can't I have this one, your highness? Wouldn't rather go back to enjoying dem—"
"Silence!" Prince Naca stood up as well, his face inflamed and viciously carved.
The noblewoman snapped out of her drunkenness then, then shot her hands to her mouth. She looked to Bazil, but he turned away, wiping his face.
It was one thing to say these things when no one was listening, but another to speak such things outright, especially in a place like this, around people of such rank.
"What would you have me do?" Prince Naca asked solemnly.
The answer should've been obvious.
If Salīa's mother were here, she'd have no hesitation in imprisoning someone for acting so vile and making such claims about her daughter. And none would ask Queen Saoa, they'd just do it, since another option wouldn't have been possible.
Salīa wanted to act the same.
Yet this noblewoman was a friend of Prince Naca's and an acquaintance of Bazil's and his cousin's.
"I don't care what you do with her, just get her out of my sight while I'm here."
Prince Naca nodded to his chief guard, who escorted the bickering noblewoman out. Bazil's face hung low.
"Since I interrupted your time with her, you're welcome to go enjoy her company as well."
Bazil did not move, yet lifted his eyes.
"Did I not say it well? You're excused. I promised Prince Naca some time, and I'd like to spend it with them."
"Did you forget what we spoke about earlier?" Prince Naca asked him. "If she tells you to leave, you should leave. Why make her say it twice?"
It was a long while before Bazil moved, and it almost seemed as if he were about to fight, but eventually…he left.
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