1001 Nights

DAY: 04 (pt.2)

"Samos, Kieran, could you take Lady Azade to the confines of Ehsan Sorun?"

"The maid? Why wo-" Samos, the younger of the two guard standing by the door voiced only to be cut off by Vardin himself.

"You'll do as I say, his majesty will be angry if she is left alone." Vardin eye's shifted between Azade and the knife at her feet.

He wouldn't be the only one angry.

Samos nodded, gesturing to Azade to follow him and Kieran, a slightly taller boy. Both of them wore scars tinged of red on their collars.

'Were they tortured too?' Azade wondered, watching as they led her out of the throne room and away from Vardin and the messenger. She looked back at the stoic faces of the two, whispering something they didn't want her to know about. If she weren't so hell bent on finding Ehsan out of her own personal guilt, she might've cared.

No matter how hard she tried, to tell herself 'it's not your fault' she would return to the sound of a whip smacking Ehsan's skin. Blood turning the tiles into rivers of red.

History always seemed to repeat itself.

"Mi-my lady, just down the hall there." Kieran, the other guard motioned. Azade cringed at the title, but she didn't correct him.

She needed to see Ehsan.

She walked faster through the palace; not caring about the two guards that were on orders to follow her every move. Finally, after her long strides to the end of the hall she reached a brown door

Infirmary.

Azade burst through.

It must've been the least decorated room in the palace, a slight comfort to Azade amongst her recent extravagant scenery. Brown sullen walls covered the room; a haze of medicines and mixtures lining the large cupboards in dozens.

'This must be one of servants quarters' Azade thought to herself as her silk slippers dusted against the warm floor. She hadn't noticed the decent sized bed in the middle of the room until she saw who was in it.

"Azade?"

Ehsan sat with her body covered in towels, most dried with blood stains streaking their white tones. A woman sat hunched over her, rubbing a concoction of rancid-smelling herbs on her right arm.

Azade inched nearer to the maid; almost timid to meet her in the eyes. 'I did this to her. I did.'

"It's not your fault." Ehsan finally said, reading her mind. The maid looked on to the slave girl, dressed in mock finery and made to look like she was something she wasn't.

She looked like a child dressed in a body too big for her.

"I'm so sorry." Azade finally choked out, a wet line of tears running down her eyes one by one. It was her turn to cry once more; letting her body reach the edge of the bed and collapse against it. She could feel Ehsan's hands caressing her head.

Her body was shaking, revolting. She couldn't bare it. She had caused the same punishment that had haunted her eyes for years.