Son of Mah

xii. the youngest of melophoroi

"How many women did you court before me?"

"I am a poor lad, Shah."

A satisfied smirk played on Shahryar's lips. "I should have known. Women like men who are in control of their emotions and not swayed so easily."

Shahrazad scoffed. "I never allowed myself to melt at the sight of any human. I wasn't having fun before I met you. Though, I guess you as a Shah had some affairs before the bad stuff began happening?"

Shahryar raised his brows. "You have the audacity to ask?"

"There should be complete transparency and trust between a couple."

Shahryar wheezed. "You impress me with your words. No, I didn't have any, uh, affair."

Shahrazad batted his eyelashes. "You must have loved at least someone?"

Shahryar fidgeted with the pleats of his cloak, looking down at his lap with tired eyes. His lips curved down at the corners, a narrow stream of sadness passing through it. "I-I did. But I don't know where he is now. I have lost him."

"What if I help you find him, one day?"

"Won't it hurt you to see me go after some other man leaving you to suffer?"

"You are a big fool, Shah. You clearly have lost on a lot of things."

Shahrazad thought it better not to drag the topic. He hoisted himself up. "I will go to the kitchen and see what they are up to. Why so late!"

Shahryar reclined in his chair. Should he give this bond a chance? Shahrazad was trying hard to build something between the two, to weave a connection, but he was too wrapped up in the tragedies of the past to even look at his spouse properly. He was caged by fear and trauma. Not that Shahrazad's unique ways of softening him up helped significantly.

But one couldn't clap with one hand. Shahryar had to begin trying to. He had to give this a chance without thinking what the future had for them. For once he had to live in the moment.

****

The kitchen was in a mess. And the arrival of Shahrazad intensified the matters more. A flock of servants fell to their knees, begging the Shahamsar-am to not punish them.

"We are extremely sorry and feel guilty of what we have done. Forgive us for this mistake. We won't repeat it from now onwards."

The smell of pulao wafted to his nose. There were various lotus leaves scattered over a table. Probably they were going to serve the couple wine in that. He found huge utensils big enough to fit his fleshy back and his whole body.

"It's alright. Both of us are quite hungry. It will be good if you stop crying and get to work."

"Well, pardon me Shahamsar-am, but it isn't a good etiquette for the royal consort to come here–"

Shahrazad followed the wave of that vain voice, discovering that it belonged to a youth.

"–well, even if you are hungry. You could have send someone to check on the progress. But I am absolutely sorry, I shall punish these maids for their reckless behaviour."

"Oh!" Shahrazad understood now. The youth was wearing a leather belt around his waist and had a spear in his hand. He carried a bunch of arrows and a bow in his back.

"So you are the head cook," Shahrazad said with his usual self-absorbed smile.

The maids gasped, terrified glances bouncing on and off the silhouettes of the two men.

The man squinted. He grasped the spear firmer. "You mean to say I look like a cook?"

"Looks barely matter in the long run. It is your actions which speak. As of now, they tell me you are a cook."

"I am Adonis, the youngest of the melophoroi. The fifth one," he said tartly.

Shahrazad bit the insides of his mouth. "So, you are here to dictate me, a noble, the manners of the palace?"

"I was just concerned about the consort."

"What is a melophoroi doing in the kitchen then?"

"I am here to oversee the food is safe to eat. I make sure no one mixes even a little leaf in the food without my permission."

"I can clearly conclude how well you are in your task, considering we found the wine poisoned. You know about that day, don't you?"

Adonis flared like a fire would in presence of clarified butter. The veins on his neck stood out. But he was careful to not stare at the royal consort, though his next actions were not polished enough– he hurried out of the kitchen, waiting just outside its doors.

Shahrazad understood that Adonis wouldn't return back until he was here.

"He is hot-tempered. Young blood," a maid said. "The Shahamsar-am should not be upset."

Shahrazad twirled a lock of his hair. "Oh, just give me some good food and make me happy. You all know about the new rules, right?"

"Yes, Shahamsar-am. The hazahrapatish shall taste the food before you and the Shah do, and you shall choose your own plates."

"Good. Mistakes happen, but have mercy on me and please be quick? My stomach roars like a lion!"

The maid covered her mouth and giggled. "Definitely."

Shahrazad left the kitchen, whistling to himself as he crossed the irked Adonis.

"So I met Firdaus and Adonis. Three more of the melophoroi are strangers to me. Got to know them."

Because who knew, there could be a beast hiding behind those loyal masks.