Aliya

chapter seven

Somehow, I managed to refrain myself from pointing out that Ismal himself had been the one to warn me to not think too high from my current station (which, really, was still absolutely nothing) as well as the fact that, really, if Prince Cairo were to lose interest, the only party that would be negatively affected would be Ismal himself.

Unless 'losing interest' also means 'losing head', in which case, he was quite right.

Despite all of these thoughts in my mind, though, I lowered my head demurely, nodding.

"I apologize; I hadn't realized how erroneous my actions had been in your favor," I said, blinking up at Ismal.

Fortunately, whether that be through sheer luck or sheer stupidity, it seemed that he hadn't caught onto the jab I'd thrown at him, nodding tightly instead. "It's your first night, and considering your background, I don't expect you to understand all the rules of the palace."

He sniffed loudly, and I resisted the urge to smack the side of his cheek. "But nevertheless," Ismal continued, "nevertheless, you need to understand that there are specific rules and standards you must uphold here. If I hadn't mentioned it before, then I will mention it now; you are allowed to explore all around the palace, but at appropriate times. You are a woman, so do not run around wearing your sleepwear at a time like this— you'll only bring rumors to yourself. And surely, you understand why we don't want that?

Why we? Do you mean you?

I nodded again. "Yes, I understand."

"Good." He sniffed again. "I will walk you to your room to ensure you do not get lost on the way. I won't have you running into the monarchs and leaving a bad impression because of your poor upbringing."

I bit my tongue so hard I could taste metal, but nonetheless, followed after him quietly.

The walk from the gardens to my room seemed much shorter in comparison to the time I'd taken to walk there in the first place, but perhaps that was largely dude to the fact that Ismal, unlike me, knew his way around the corridors, whereas I'd ran around as blindly as a beheaded chicken.

Under my breath, I'd counted the steps it'd taken to come back, and when Ismal finally stopped walking, I'd counted up to 342.

"If your house girl allows you to leave again, especially without her by your side, she will be punished," he said, nostrils flaring. "It is her job to take care and watch over you."

Take care and watch over you.

At that point, I'd heard that phrase so many times that when Ismal said it again, I couldn't help but blurt out, "Take care and watch over me in what way, exactly?"

Ismal, who had already begun to turn around and walk back, stopped moving. "Of course, to ensure your protection, your satisfaction, and your compliance with the rules, such as making sure that you do not sneak out at night."

He didn't say it, but with his hard eyes, I could hear the implied, and to keep you quiet and compliant.

I swallowed hard. "I see."

Ismal nodded, gesturing to the door. "It'd do you well to go to sleep now."

"Yes, of course."

"And Aliya?" Ismal called out, just as I opened the door.

When I turned around again, his dark eyes almost seemed to have turned darker. "I don't recommend you sneaking out again. The palace is heavily guarded, if you must know; both to keep things out, and to keep things in."

Then, all of a sudden, his face melted into a smile. "Good night now. Sleep well."

As I forced myself to nod, I felt a weight settle in my stomach.

He knows.

***

"Miss, you look exhausted. What happened? Did you not sleep well?"

Maria's overly cheerful voice wasn't helping with either the headache or the memories of Ismal's threat, so instead of replying, I forced a smile, eager to get her to stop talking as quickly a possible.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work.

"We have to do something to cover them up, you know," Maria said, thin eyebrow quirking up. In the past few hours I'd spent with her, I'd learnt that for someone so young, she certainly had already developed the mama habit of raising her brow, no matter what and no matter when the matter was.

I nodded. "Of course, I wouldn't want to impose on Prince Cairo," I muttered, teeth pulling at my lip. The constant replay of Ismal catching me in my mind had brought me to the brink of frustration; if only I hadn't stopped and just kept my pace, I might have just gotten away.

The phrase if only, though, is a harsh pill to push down.

"You're finally starting to think the way somebody in your position should, Miss," Maria praised, apparently unaware of my sarcasm. "You're right; you do need to make a good impression on Prince Cairo. After all, you'll be meeting him later today."

"I'm going to what?" If Maria had been applying kohl to my eyes, I would've stabbed myself with the applicant, whether that be by accident or completely on purpose.

"You're going to meet him, of course. At breakfast. You'll be having breakfast with the royal family."

"Why?"

"Who knows? That shouldn't be the question you're asking right now, Miss. The right question should be, what should you wear? Do you have a preferred color?"

I watched as Maria flitted to the large, two story closet, little hands nimbly grabbing at fabrics, talking a mile a minute, and all I could think was—

Goddamn you Ismal.

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