[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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Shahryar had called a court on request of his consort, and now when he had made everyone wait for an hour, things were getting out of hand.
"The perils of having an eccentric spouse," Firdaus whispered in Mahfuzur's ears. "I pity the Shah right now. He is embarrassing himself."
Mahfuzur's lower lip was pulled out and he pouted like a child. "So very interesting..."
Naseer rubbed his knees and shook his head. After some moments he got up from his seat and paced in front. Time ticked and so did his patience. At last, he bowed to the Shah and in a very nervous and low tone, spoke, "My Shah, you understand that I have to oversee the training of the boys tomorrow early in the morning? If you would please excuse me... I believe the rest shall all wait for the beautiful Shahamsar-am!"
His last words caused a displeased grunt to ripple through the crowd. Shahryar noticed it but feigned ignorance. Sweat gleamed on his forehead. "Yes, Naseer. You may leave. I can only request the rest to stay. I trust Shahrazad will not disappoint me."
"But Shah," Parmenion stood up, the muscles on his face twisted in cold folds, "the Shahamsar-am is taking too long. This cannot go-"
Parmenion was not able to complete his sentence. His words were overshadowed by the subtle tune of a ney, that hypnotised the crowd like a charming enchantress' voice. Soon several lamps in the room were extinguished to dim the light. A flock of dancers appeared in view. All of them were dressed in golden, a mix of men and women, but one particular man stood out- his attire was a shimmering crimson, as if dyed in the fresh blood of the most beautiful maiden, then coated with stardust and dried in moonlight. It had a flow to it like waves of the sea. The man's face was veiled by a red veil. While everyone whispered if the Shahamsar-am had brought exotic dancers from the land of Aryavarta, Shahryar noticed the fan in the belt of the crimson dancer.
It was a rebellious decision to dance as a royal consort, but Shahryar's intuition said this was not just a gift to him from his consort, but Shahrazad probably wanted to make a statement. It was strange that he sensed the presence of some inner meaning in the act, but perhaps there is one...
After the ney quietened, the kamancheh began playing. The attendants of the court had by now found out the source of the music- it came from behind the throne of the Shah, where skillfully were the artists of melody kept hidden. There sat a man in the middle with a white headdress on and a rubab in his hand, accompanied by other musicians.
"Yesterday, while you were away I engulfed the Mah in my loneliness."
The man with the headdress began singing and struck the rubab. To it the dancers matched their steps, the crimson man leading the whole pack like a wolf. Just that, tonight the hunter was dressed as a delicious prey to be prayed for.
"The light of Mah severed my wounded scars Blistering them in its heat of passion I, like a foolish lover, had engulfed the Mah, in my deranged loneliness."
