Son of Mah

xvi. a bowl of soup

Dunyazad had been preoccupied with a book early morning when her food was brought. She had wanted to not consume anything of the palace, but going on a hunger strike would have been too disrespectful and sabotaged her family's reputation. She had thought of asking Shahrazad if the Shah would ask the servants to taste her food too, but was reluctant to present the proposal because she wasn't holding a position as high as that of her brother or brother-in-law.

Closing the book of verses she took her bowl of soup and sniffed it like a curious squirrel. It was still hot and would burn her tongue if she ate it. So she decided to wait some more.

"Meanwhile let me water the plants."

She had some potted plants in her room. Firdaus had told if she could take good care of them, flowers would blossom. Eager to grow something with her own hands, she built a warm connection with the green. Each morning and afternoon she watered them.

She could see buds peeking at her, broad at the tip and having a greenish white shade. Soon they will be bearing pretty petals.

The sound of footsteps distracted her for a moment. It was Firdaus. The crease between his brows said he was upset. Dunyazad didn't pay attention to it and caressed the leaves, tracing the soft stems as fragile as a little baby's limbs.

She snapped out of her dreamy world when Firdaus poured the soup over the plant. Drops of it splattered on Dunyazad's arms as she gave a shriek and took steps back. Firdaus kept the empty bowl on a table and wiped her hands with a cloth.

"Immediately go and have a bath," Firdaus instructed.

"But–"

"I only want your good, Master." Sincerity sparkled in his eyes. "If anybody asks about the soup, lie that you had it."

Firdaus looked at the cloth in his hand. "I will burn this. Master, let me just finish this task and then I will escort you to the bathhouse. Please wait."

Firdaus knocked off a vase in his haste. "Oh! Forgive me a second time. Ask the servants to clean this. And yes, don't dare touch that bowl." He hurried out so fast that his feet refused to land on the floor.

Dunyazad felt her stomach grumble. Whatever happened was outside her comprehension. His nervous and vigilant attitude did scare her. She sat on the bed, waiting for him to come. After half an hour, Firdaus returned.

"I will take you to the garden after your bath. You can have some fruits."

"What has happened?"

Firdaus narrowed his eyes. "Asking questions will only endanger you."

"So as usual, you won't tell me."

"Exactly."

"Fine. I won't press you."

Firdaus smiled. He tried to elude her inquisitive mind with a fake show of sweetness. Dunyazad knew playing along was the only option she had.

"Let's go, Firdaus."

****

All day Firdaus kept her away from her room. He insisted she took a round of the palace not once but ten times if time was enough. Not just that, he even shared his food with her in secret. Dunyazad knew from his face that it was less out of loyalty and affection and more because of an ulterior motive. At first she was hesitant to eat what he offered, but she calmed herself when she saw him eat the same food.

"If anybody asks, it was you who wanted to explore the palace and it was you who wanted to taste my food. I, as a servant, obeyed you. This should be the truth."

These were his last words before he was summoned suddenly by Parmenion and had to leave.

Not long after he left a new face came to greet Dunyazad. It was a man, accompanied by some six to ten more armed men. Dunyazad was afraid this was some trap and had been on the verge of screaming when the man bowed deeply.

"Greetings to the noble lady. I am Mahfuzur, the first of the melophoroi."

Dunyazad tilted her head to the side.

Mahfuzur cleared his throat. "Being the first of the melophoroi it has always been my duty to ensure the Shah is well-protected. Now when he has married and has relatives in the palace too, it becomes my concern to take care of them too."

"I am quite satisfied with my life here."

"If you have any complaints, for example regarding food, do contact Adonis. He will sort it out."

A link blinked in her mind. "I shall."

Mahfuzur's eyes roved around the room before focusing on Dunyazad. "That's all I wanted to–"

Mahfuzur was interrupted by the arrival of three more men. Soon Dunyazad's room was filled with grown up warriors and soldiers, appearing no less than a battlefield.

Mahfuzur bowed a second time upon seeing Parmenion. The old man looked irked with all those wretched wrinkles on his forehead, his skin looking harsher due to the anger surging in his veins.

"I am sorry to disturb, but from now on Firdaus shall no longer be serving you."

Firdaus hung his head and stood behind the hazahrapatish. Beside him, looking vain with a self-conceited smirk was Adonis. He came to the front even before Parmenion asked.

"Adonis here will take care of you from now on. He will be appointed to duty from tonight."

Parmenion went away with Firdaus and Adonis, while Mahfuzur stayed behind to speak with Dunyazad a little more. He left when the girl politely announced her time to sleep had come.

Dunyazad went to the plant where Firdaus had dumped the soup in the morning. It looked fresh on first glimpse but on closer inspection she found the buds to have crumpled like a paper. The stem had black spots. She was wary of touching it.

"It was just fine this morning. What happened to it now?"

Her heart bellowed out what it was convinced as the truth, but Dunyazad wanted to confirm it all with her eyes. She was going to watch what would happen to her lovely green friend as the night passed.

And as the moments went by, the leaves died, the stem reeked of decomposition, and all that was left was a lifeless body.