There was no point for Iris to continue lying to Sinbad. There was no question to it; the girl in the picture was a younger, sixteen-year-old her. Now, she was more mature, she chopped her royal hair off so that it danced across her shoulders, and wore bangs, making her appear less formal. She didn't wear ornate clothes or jewelry, favoring the simple, and certainly no one would think an assassin was a Princess.
Her eyes were cold and serious. "How long have you known?"
"Since day two." Sinbad explained. "I knew you looked familiar when I saw you at the festival the first night, so I looked through my files and found this. What can I say? I never forget a pretty face, Iris. Or, I figure it's actually Princess Irisiah."
She swallowed, unsure of how to deal with the revealing of her secrets.
Rather than being angry or frustrated, he sat down across from her, rested his elbows on the wooden table and looked at her expectantly. "So, how did a beautiful Princess like you find her way to Sindria and my bedroom? I wanted to see if you'd eventually tell me, but here we are."
She debated whether or not to give him the full truth, unfiltered and allowing judgement for her actions. At this point, she had nothing to lose. So, she sighed and told her story.
"I was the oldest daughter of my parents, the King and Queen of the Itraitha Kingdom. My former country - I don't claim it as my own any longer - is a small island country, similar to Sindria, but we don't have the resources or military to properly trade and interact with bigger countries, like Heliohapt or Reim that are closer to us. It is a very old country led by tradition and laws that have been around for generations. But as the Kou Empire expanded and Sindria was established - you forming relationships with other countries - my parents didn't know how to keep the country their own anymore.
"So, when I became sixteen I was considered eligible for marriage, but if you're asking me, I was still a child. They believed that the only thing that would be the saving grace of Itraitha was marrying me off to protect the country and establish trade relationships with other countries. They pawned me off to every other influential leader, businessman, or Prince that could accommodate Itraitha's needs.
"Obviously, I wasn't too happy with that." She chuckled, but the memories and instances were clearly causing her pain to recall. "I fought them. I told them that if we just went out and showed other countries what we had to offer - not me - then we could create trade and business agreements and wouldn't have to just... pawn me off. Also, who's to say I couldn't become Queen by myself and be a leader to Itraitha that's just as good as any man with such experience, if not better." She huffed clearly irritated with the happenings.
"I'd say you're certainly capable." Sinbad chimed briefly.
"Right?!" She agreed boldly, growing angrier as her story continued. "The last thing I wanted was to be just this incapable, guarded, quiet, royal little housewife, but that was the life my parents were setting me up for. Don't get me wrong; they did love me the best they knew how, but it wasn't empowering and inspiring. They hid me from regular life, keeping me inside the palace grounds and constantly watched, only emerging into Itraithan society as some kind of glorified image and symbol of the country.
"Between all of this - the men that were strangers that found their way to Itraitha to meet me, expecting marriage, and keeping me from participating in society and life - I started to lose my sanity, and I knew I just needed out. So, just before I turned seventeen I escaped. I knew when my guards would be with me and when they wouldn't, and I took the chance.
"I changed my clothes, cut off most of my hair, and kept myself alive by working as an assassin. No one would suspect an assassin, right? I was always sneaky, anyways." Again, even though the King could tell she was hurting through explaining her past, she grinned. "I made it pretty far, didn't I?" She joked uncomfortably.
"It is rather impressive." Sinbad commented. "Except now, you're caught."
"Does Ja'far know?" She asked quietly, her body shrinking inwards, ashamed of her history.
"Yes, but I only informed him when we prepared to leave."
"Do others know?"
He shook his head. "I haven't told them. It's not my place to do so."
It surprised her how much he seemed to respect her identity and what she had gone through, even when he had known for so long.
"So, I assume we're headed for Itraitha Kingdom?"
"We are."
Iris looked down, knowing that she would surely face some unpleasant things upon her return. "Why are you concerning yourself with this?" She wasn't bitter or irritated at him but didn't think that this incident deserved the King's attention for so long outside of his other responsibilities.
"You are my aid, and when things concern you, they also concern me." He stated matter-of-factly, then he grinned to assure the girl. "And as we grow up, we need to face our past and not run from it."
She frowned. "I don't think it's your place to force me to face my past."
"Yes, but I care about you, Princess." He looked at her with confident golden eyes. "And I'm here with you to face it."
"Sin..." She took a deep, refreshing breath. "... please just... don't call me 'Princess' or 'Irisiah.'"
"If that's what you want." He smiled. "I think 'Iris' suits you better, anyway. You're a little too feisty for a formal name like 'Irisiah.'"
This made a small grin crack through her lips. "Can I ask for one more thing?"
"Since when do you ask to ask something?"
She chuckled. "Please don't treat me like I'm this... fragile, untouchable entity. Please don't treat me differently."
Sinbad smirked and stepped closer to Iris, pinching a portion of the longer strands of her thick hair that framed her face. His expression was devious as he leaned down, hovering above her ear. In a low, seductive voice, he hummed, "I wasn't planning on it."
He playfully bit the lobe of her ear and moved away from her. She cupped her ear protectively and pouted, "That's not what I meant."
"Sure, it wasn't." He retorted sarcastically as he prepared to leave the room. "We'll arrive tomorrow, so prepare yourself any way you need."
This made the girl incredibly anxious. She didn't know what she would face, but she knew it would be unpleasant. She abandoned her country, her parents, and her royal responsibilities. How would they face her when she returned, and how would she face them?
The day went by painfully slow, but Iris was trapped inside of her mind every minute. Sinbad knew this and could easily understand how much heading to Itraitha bothered her. But what he also knew was how to make her feel better.
As night closed in on the waves, the King approached her quarters. She was inside, sitting on the side of her bed, looking at her hands but staring off deep into thought.
"Iris." Sinbad said quietly. His voice immediately broke through her trance-like state. She raised her head and faced him, blinking to restore her place in reality. "Come with me." He beckoned, grinning gently.
She didn't question him, but his words were familiar, and he spoke in a way that she knew she could trust him. So, she followed him.
Just like a flashback of the peaceful events two months prior, the man led her up to the crow's nest, which was slightly larger than the last one, and blew out his candle, allowing the incomparable night sky to illuminate itself. It was different than the Southern seas around Sindria with a slightly chillier breeze and crisper air, but the sky was just as beautiful.
He saw the smile that the night sky brought to her face, and seeing her sweet, genuine expression always brought the same to him. She slid her back down the edges of the space, lazily sitting and staring at the majestic stars.
He joined her sitting down, consuming much more space than she did, but they were still comfortable. As if on cue, he said, "Care for a drink?" and set down a bottle of wine.
She had managed to not drink around him since the first time when she had lost control, despite the countless times he offered. But tonight was a different story as she was forced into facing something she didn't feel ready to.
She succumbed and sighed, "What the hell."
The man hadn't gotten glasses, so he popped the cork from the bottle and gave it to her.
"Well, I'm not going to drink that much." She chuckled and rolled her eyes, but still brought the bottle to her lips and took a sip.
Between the two of them, they shared about half of it, Sinbad drinking much more than her having proved he could handle more alcohol in his system. When Iris felt the wine begin to affect her, pulling her from rationality, she stopped drinking it. She felt emotionally and physically exhausted as the alcohol pulled at her senses.
It was quiet, they didn't make much conversations. The King was respecting her space and her thoughts, and she was very grateful. She knew that no matter how much he teased and manipulated her, he did ultimately care about her and respect her in a strange way.
Her face felt warm from the wine, but it was refreshing in the bitter breeze. While he seemed to respect her space, she didn't exactly respect his, which had no proved to be a pattern with alcohol.
Iris crawled over him, sitting on his lap. She placed her arms around his broad, strong shoulders and looked directly into his amber eyes. Her own silver orbs were glossy and her cheeks were pinkened. He stiffened, becoming tense towards her forward actions and knowing that if he'd slip and allow himself to surrender to lust or desire there'd be no turning back.
She straddled his waist, sitting directly on top of him and wearing a dazed face. She bent her arms and brought her body closer to his. She hugged his neck and nestled herself in his shoulder, her nose nuzzled beneath his strong chin.
He blinked, surprised by her actions having never seen her so vulnerable and affectionate. Still, he kept the mood light and joked, "I guess getting you drunk was the right idea."
"I'm not drunk!" She protested, but didn't move, holding onto his stronger, larger frame.
"Sorry, tipsy." He corrected with a smirk.
She grunted, and he chuckled. He turned his head in attempt to look at the girl resting on the space between his chest and shoulder. But when he did, she readjusted herself and muttered, "Hold me."
He breathed out a short laugh, but nonetheless did as she asked. He wrapped his arms around her small waist, rubbing his hand along her lower back assuringly.
"I like tipsy Iris." He spoke somewhere between a whisper and a low talking voice. "You're so affectionate."
She hummed, not really wanting conversation. Picking up on this, Sinbad settled for the sound of her gently breathing as he watched the stars. He couldn't completely describe how he felt about the girl curled up on top of him, melting into his warmth and simply holding him while he did the same to her. All he understood was that he had never felt the way that he did before.
He felt so comfortable and tranquil and happy, but his heart beat heavily. He didn't have the desire in that moment to tease her or make her embarrassed. He just wanted to keep her there for as long as possible, holding her in his arms where she seemed to fit so perfectly.
She didn't want him to treat her as royalty or the Princess she was at birth, but to him, she had become an irreplaceable treasure he sought to protect and honor, and that certainly had nothing to do with her history.
This was the truth he began to realize and accept to no one but himself. He recognized the way he was changing in his behaviors and thoughts, and he didn't quite understand it, but he did seek to figure it out as he didn't appreciate things being left unsettled and unconcluded.
He sat with his thoughts, the quiet waves, the twinkling stars, and Iris, who had peacefully fallen asleep in his arms. He gently brushed her thick, magenta-toned bangs from her forehead and placed a kiss there.
"Damnit, Iris." He whispered. "You've made me weak."