[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 ninety-ninth consort to the hundredth Shah of Persia had died, and no one was shocked. Death had become a routine.
It was only the sky that broke into mourning like it had lost another child. It rained heavily, akin to the tears of a thousand gods crying at the departure of the little naive souls sacrificed to the smothering fate of the Shah.
Shahrazad stared at Mah, the deity who gave him life. He hugged the white muslin shawl closer to his body as the gelid breeze refused to let his heart thaw.
"Misfortune has again shrouded the royal family."
And he was trapped here like a caged bird.
The kingdom was in tears of anger and agony. The Shah, who was supposed to be the shadow of Ahura Mazda, had brought only deaths to the kingdom. Shahrazad recalled the chantings of the protests that ran in the kingdom- jinxed is he, who sits on the throne and veils the world in dark; jinxed is he, who upon inheriting his father's land only brings ruin to it. He heard those words almost everyday now while sitting in his balcony and watching a crowd swarm the roads, demanding justice from the gods above. He was there, knowing what was happening around, but he existed in secrecy. He thrived as a hidden rose.
And he knew he had done nothing about it.
Shahrazad saw the crescent Mah hide behind the dirty grey clouds, refusing to face his tear-soaked visage. It plunged him in the same darkness that the kingdom was now dwelling in.
"May the soul be guided to the world of Ahura Mazda."
Shahrazad wiped his tears and strengthened himself. It was the voice of his father Bagaos. "Damun must be so sad that his son hasn't been able to win hearts. This storm is him mourning. Oh Mitra, will peace never come?" Bagaos murmured. His aged wrinkled hands with skin still glowing like gold held onto the baluster, eyes peering across the raging clouds floating in the sky.
Bagaos had seen the present Shah first when he was a week old, in the protective lap of his pure mother, shining like a little star which had been plucked from the sky. Shahrazad didn't remember the first day he had met the baby Shah, though the memories seeped into his dreams everyday.
Delighting him. Haunting him.
"Of course, the throne belongs to him not just because he is the oldest child, but also because he deserves it. But now, I doubt."
And like Bagaos, a seed of uncertainty had been planted in many minds. People doubted if the eldest son of Great Damun was really blessed and a messiah. The one whom the world serenaded with the title of greatness had given birth to a legacy of quietus.
"What do you think, Baba? Should the Shah abdicate the throne?"
A smile played out on Bagaos' lips upon hearing the voice which had his life brimming in the celebration of unexpected fatherhood.
