Words of Swords

3 . 2

The tension had thickened the once gay atmosphere and Dije though frantic in freight, felt it and knew she was the cause for all passers by had stilled and hurdled around to witness what was to ensue between their Princess, the holy dan Mazuzu and, to all of their amusements as well as delight, the rumoured Blue Skin.

All because of me...it's all my fault.

She chided and blamed herself for the predicament she was in for firstly, why hadn't she insisted harder on not following him out of the palace? Secondly, why didn't she read his ill intentions when he dispersed their whole entourage sending them on random and ridiculous errands--Kulu included? And lastly, why had she not protested when he lead her to such a place? Surely her own carelessness was to be blamed for this situation and that was exactly what her gaze tried to convey Abu.

That though she was helpless, he shouldn't involve himself in this for he wouldn't stand a chance against what Arne would do. He shouldn't make things escalate further for she wouldn't stand a chance against what her mother would do. The crowd he had caused to be gathered had saved her from whatever Arne's plans were so there was no need to do anything else. And this her eyes begged of him.

But his heated stare back seemed not to have understood and were heedless for he continued to walk closer till he was standing before them with his hands folded on his chest and tucked into his sides.

"Release her great Priest." Abu repeated himself, his eyes lowered to where Arne's hand had held Dije's wrist.

"Who is this man to interfere between a man and his betrothed--the Priest and the Princess?" Arne replied, his fingers again venturing to Dije's face to purposely provoke Abu.

Dije was still, she couldn't object this time for the multiple eyes around them. She had to surpress the irk and disgust his touch arose in her and swallow her protests but little did she know Abu had already heard her earlier pleas and it was impossible to hide the petrified expression on her face.

"Is that not so dearest?"

"Y-yes Sire." her voice shook but still she continued to push on with the hopes of pursuading Abu as well as the forming crowd. "If you may please excuse us noble Prince?"

Abu though surprised, was unconvinced at Dije's little show and he couldn't help his jaw tightening as she lead Arne past him and out through the opening of the alley. In smugness, Arne had even intentionally brushed a shoulder on Abu's and shoved him before walking past.

But Abu remained with his hands folded under his arms. He was in such a manner for fear of his hands reaching to his sword and giving in to the tempting sight of Arne's neck.

He puffed out a breath in relief immediately he felt Arne's presence vanish and his sword still tamed within its sheath. He applauded his temper for holding on for that long and his hands for being so obedient as he released them from hostage and let them fall to his side. His eyes closed for a minute, wanting to meditate and hopefully free the earlier scene out of his conscience and not react as the Princess had wanted. Muhammad Ala had made him promise to protect her during the siege! Not on every day and at every hour so what if her so called betrothed was forcing himself on her? So what!? Why did he care? Abu reprimanded himself, she is too arrogant to want his help anyways so he best just ignore her and leave. AbdulJabbar's news had already burdened him enough for today and with that thought in mind, he walked out of the space.

Just as Abu's foot stepped out of the opening--and the three baffled guards came into view as well as the whole lot of the trade fair--an outstretched arm blocked his way.

It was Arne.

Once Abu's attention was caught, the arm was dropped and though Abu was taller, Arne squared up to him and gazed up at him with an expression only a rascal could possess.