From the small farming village of Honta to Érdé, the capital of Érdélin, the journey would take about a full day's ride with a good horse. Two if one took the carriage.
Now, it had been two days since Farhad, the fourth prince of the younger generation, took off without a word of explanation. The Akataran dignitaries tried their best to cover the absence of the prince but since the Crown Prince of Érdélin was Farhad and Samira's classmate, the excuse was pretty much useless.
That afternoon Prince Farhad came back with a different horse. And he was also drunk.
Crown Prince Ekram of Érdélin was conversing with Crown Prince Darsana of Akatara on the balcony overlooking the entrance.
"As I was saying, Darsana, concerning my engagement with your sister, Ishani—" Ekram's words were halted when he noticed Darsana's attention was elsewhere.
He turned to see the entrance too and they saw a drunken Farhad swinging a gourd of arak[1] while agitating his horse. The poor stable boy almost got trampled by the large gelding.
"The poor lover boy has arrived," Darsana chuckle lightly. "I told him never to drink and ride, but I can't blame him too much right now. Do you know, Ekram, Farhad's mother had sent bethrotal gifts to Honta. It should've arrived two days ago."
"But Farhad and Samira was already—wait, two days ago?" Ekram's face paled. "Oh no."
Darsana only nodded knowingly. "He might be in dire need of a friend."
"Then excuse—uhm.." Ekram was torn, but the older prince smiled gently and waved his hand.
"Don't worry about me. I have Valmuri to keep me company. Go."
"Yes, alright. Thank you, Darsana. Then I'll check up on him first. Let's talk at dinner then!"
The loyal friend Ekram ran to check on Farhad, leaving the Crown Prince of Akatara in the company of Valmuri, Érdélin's Minister of Defense.
"Ekram's a good kid," commented Darsana between sips of wine, viewing the scene below leisurely.
"Indeed, he's a commendable young man," Valmuri agreed with a smile.
"A little too naive though, don't you agree?" Darsana glaced and smiled. "You must be worried."
"Should I?" the minister chuckled. "When he has such a caring and protective brother-in-law to look after him?"
The fair haired crown prince tapped his long fingers on the wine flute while studying the inscrutable minister. Valmuri was a decade older than him, but his clean shaven face and thick hair didn't accurately portrayed his age. Not to mention that almost constant gentle smile on Valmuri's face. In a way the two men were alike in demeanor.
But Valmuri wasn't made to be the minister of defense for nothing.
"Knowing your reputation, I wonder what you think of Samira of Honta's effect in the royal court amidst this engagement talk and more... precarious situation," mused Darsana.
"She's the Great Mantara's handpicked disciple. What effect she will have in the future depends on her own merit," said Valmuri diplomatically.
"Roses like that have thorns."
"I thought that was your favorite kind of flower, Your Highness."
"We do have similar taste, Valmuri," Darsana nodded then sighed. "A rose that has the power to raise the dead."
"Rumours."
"Rumours have this tendency to become truths. Mantara's dead and she's his last disciple alive. A sorceress of that talent, personally, I would also love to have her in my court. And I'm not the only one."
"Thank you for your concern, Darsana. However, at the end of the day, she is of Érdélin." Valmuri dropped the formalities and Darsana knew the other man was getting dangerous.
"Only a friendly reminder, my good friend. As we agreed, I won't touch her. Heaven knows how long you've waited. How many lives has it been?"
Valmuri let out a sad smile.
"Too many."
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"They said you're the brilliant disciple of Great Mantara. But I honestly think you're very stupid."
A ginger haired, freckled young girl named Anika was dragging the thick eiderdown from Samira's bed. Revealing the feverish rishika.
"A sorceress! A rishika! Getting down with a fever. Tsk, tsk. Stupid."
"You're too noisy." Samira opened one of her eyes blearily, her young assistant was still running her mouth.
"I say, you should just marry Prince Farhad if you love him so much. You are lovesick, I tell you! Love—mmph!!"
"That's better."
Samira put down her hand after casting a spell to shut Anika temporarily. The young girl was annoyed but she was stubborn. Anika made faces at her employer and even dared to stuck out a tongue before going on about her chores. Samira let the younger girl do as she pleases. Their relationship was very informal when it was just the two of them. The casualness gave Samira a peace of mind.
It did her good to have a friendly face in a big city like Érdé. Lately, she has become some kind of small celebrity because of her situation with her ex-lover. Some conspiration fanatics were even babbling nonsense about an impending civil war with Akatara because of her. Complete rubbish, of course.
The four kingdoms of Mora Peninsula has been at peace for hundreds of years. Akatara in the west, Morro in the east, Purnavarna in the north, and Érdélin at the central. However, there's been a simmering tension beneath the surface. A brewing distrust stemming from the unnatural deaths of a king and a crown prince--and the different response of their widows.
One became a reigning queen, the other jumped into her husband's funeral pyre. People lauded at the piousness of the latter and saw the former with suspicion.
In this messy, suspicious time, Samira entered the royal court a few days ago. She was posted as a junior rishi under the Official Magician of Érdélin, Isvar Kaimana. Her first days were only introductory and was mostly spend fending off curious gossips about herself.
They said Samira being employed at the royal court only muddied the delicate balance between the two kingdoms. Akatarans dignitaries were staying at the palace right now to speed the talk about marriage between Ekram of Érdélin with an Akataran princess.
The dignitaries in attendance included Farhad.
Samira didn't want to make assumption, but she did doubt what Farhad has got to do with this engagement talk. He was never one to be involved with matters of diplomacy. In fact, Farhad was the exact opposite of it. He was a disaster to diplomacy. And it was Samira who cleaned up his messes back then, apologizing to a train of people being offended by Farhad's rash actions.
Oh, those times... The headaches she got...
Anyway, thankfully, Mr. Kaimana, her direct superior, wasn't one to be bothered with such gossips. The old rishi was very erudite and had plenty of work for the junior rishis under him. As a newcomer to the capital, Samira was being given a few days to sort her lodging and personal arrangement. So here she was, in her new home.
The accomodation wasn't much, given the rent price and her need for privacy. It has two bedrooms, the big one is Samira's and the smaller one is for Anika. They had a kitchen and ample living space, access to a clean communal well, and only five minutes to a bathhouse. The landlady was a widow and this house was left by her late husband. The landlady understood Samira's uneasy situation because she too was facing similar hardship.
It's hard for an unmarried woman to live alone without family anywhere in the kingdom. Although Samira's status as a learned woman, employed by the palace, gave her some allowances outside the norm, she was still met with unfriendly gaze.
That was why she took in Anika, a younger girl from her village of Honta, as her live-in helper. Anika was ecstatic with Samira's offer. The young girl had always dreamed to leave Honta and live somewhere more urban. A big city like Érdé was the height of her aspiration.
Said girl was pouting at Samira, by the way.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Samira waved a hand to remove the mute status on Anika.
"You forgot?! How heartless, and here I was, slaving away to make you a beautiful meal," the ginger haired girl grumbled. "And, uhm, anyway... Samira, did you also forget, uhm... You know."
"Your reading lessons? Course not. Go take a string of lontar[2] on the top shelf. Yes, do you recognize the letters? Try to read the titles, pick one you would like to learn."
Samira smiled at the sight of Anika mumbling, her face scrunched up in full concentration, eagerly wanting to learn.
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[1]Arak: distilled alcoholic drink, can be made from many different things such as sugarcane, aniseed, etc.
[2]Lontar: palm-leaf manuscript, usually tied with strings through a hole between the individual sheets.