[Pride Awards 2023, hosted by official lgbtq , Romance Category Winner and 5th Place Grandwinner] The foster son of a former cupbearer marries the cursed king of Persia, becoming not only the first consort to survive after the wedding, but also a th...
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The palace had a mind of its own, Dunyazad thought. It made possessed puppets out of its inhabitants, making them dance to the tune of death.
Well, I won't follow the moves.
She had not expected at all for her brother to dodge death. She had imagined herself acting as either his rescuer, or worse, end up watching his pale bloodless face. But her brother defeated death not once but twice.
He outsmarted her and death.
"I never thought he had this much of brains."
Guess what? It's good. He will be alive and breathing.
She knew Shahrazad had come here not just because rules required the Shah to have a spouse, or to put an end to this trail of murders like a stupid self-proclaimed messiah, but also because he believed he was meant to be here, beside the Shah, which seemed equally stupid at this point. It pestered her to think they would ever fall in love. From what she had got to know, the Shah was almost ready to prepare the pyre of her brother but oh well, Shahrazad fooled the men.
"Maybe it's because the Shah faced death a bit too much in one lifetime. It's a miracle that he hasn't turned into a lunatic after watching so many wives die."
Dunyazad blowed out the candles and prepared her bed. She was too mistrustful of the servants and wouldn't allow them to touch her bed. If only she could also make them eat the food that they served her.
This palace isn't safe. It's jahannum.
She braided her hair and was thinking about the possibilities of love ever blooming in the palace when the door thudded. A messenger from outside screeched, "The Shah and the Shahamsar-am grace your door. Prepare yourself to welcome them!"
At midnight? Did something happen?
Dunyazad didn't know exactly how to fight with a weapon or strangle someone just in case, but she could make use of a flower vase.
The door opened to reveal her brother and brother-in-law, both wonderfully dressed, maybe a little too much for her taste, accompanied by a third man. This stranger had sharp features like the edge of a sword, with no smile on his god-gifted smug face.
Dunyazad sighed. "Is there an emergency?"
"Keeping in mind whatever has happened all these years, and the two failed attempts to murder on your brother, I feel you are in no less a danger."
Dunyazad looked at the third man. He straightened his spine, staring straight ahead at the painting of a fruit basket hanging above her bed.
"And I am not going to leave this palace, even if I think my brother has proved his bravery."
The man quickly shot her a glance from under his furrowed brows. Shahryar pushed him forward and he bowed.
"This is the second of the melophoroi, Firdaus, my trusted man. From now on he is going to be your bodyguard."
"I will do everything to keep you under my protection."
Dunyazad would have better brought a band of deliciously build men from her father's network of acquaintances than to make this one work. He was a part of this sinister palace and no way could she put her soul in his grip.
"The Shah is considerate," she politely said.
Shahrazad came and hugged Dunyazad. The embrace lasted for a small span but was rich in warmth and love. "Inform me if you see anything suspicious," he whispered in her ears, then left along with the Shah. Firdaus remained.
"Won't you leave?" Dunyazad asked him.
"I will be on guard."
"I am sorry but, being an unmarried noble woman I cannot allow a man to be in my room at night while I am sleeping."
"I will be on guard outside," he clarified.
"That's much better."
Dunyazad went and knocked on the door. When it opened, she showed him the way out. The otherwise collected features of his countenance quaked at her attitude. He didn't say anything though, for she was his master now.
Quietly he sat outside the door. Dunyazad too knelt on the other side it. Moments passed but she didn't budge. This was definitely not paranoia, she assured herself. She was just checking if this guy was-
"You need not be dubious. I am a man of my words. If I have told the Shah I will keep you fine, no one will lay a finger on you."
Dunyazad crawled back. She imagined the smug look on his face to having returned more victorious.
"You have heightened senses," she remarked with a scoff.
"I am not the second of the melophoroi for nothing."
"You aren't the first, still."
She fancied that he grunted.
"That's a rather delicate issue and we don't require everyone's opinion on that matter."
"Won't you sleep?" She continued to poke him more with her endless bombarding questions.
"I will find time for that," he said through gritted teeth. "It will be good if my master takes some rest instead of perturbing her own peace of mind."
"I am just worried about one thing– you promised me shielding but not my brother."
"Shahamsar-am seems strong enough to carry himself. He needs none."
Dunyazad gulped. A stranger could not feign to have so much of confidence on her brother without some secret reason.
"Do you know about the ninety-nine murders?" she asked.
"Everyone does."
"So you accept those are murders?"
No answer came. She heard a metallic clanking sound, perhaps the spear tip hitting the ground. "You won't answer me? I am your master."
"It is my duty to protect my master. But I am answerable only to the Shah."
The door opened with a bang. Dunyazad almost hurt her knee. She quickly got up and stood at a distance. It was of course Firdaus, sans his sublime aura.
"One final time I ask you, Master," bile dripped from Firdaus' tart voice, "go to sleep."
Dunyazad felt the floor beneath her slip as she matched gaze with him. He had neither a frown nor a displeased curve to his lips, but he made his stance known clearly.
His eyes spoke too fluently about the affairs of the palace. "Good night, Master."
