Tibetha was still hungry.
Her stomach twisted in response to the innumerable scents invading her senses and salivating her ash sustained mouth. As she followed the tall frame of Lord Emir, regardless of the sinking feeling in her gut implying that it would be a bad idea, she realised that her family was gone.
The road was barren of any and all carriages and brimmed with bustling folks trying to outmaneuver eachother for food, prizes, and a general good time.
The coachmen were nowhere in sight. Her scrutiny only caught the subtle battle of elbows the crowd was fighting, to stab, poke, and make their way through.
Tibetha was, truly, abandoned.
There should have been a feeling of dread and hopelessness. There should have been claws of betrayal scratching her heart and bleeding it raw in the square for all to witness. But all Tibetha could feel were sweaty palms and an odd sense of, 'Maybe it was for the better.'
"I totally deserved it," she whispered, descending down the stairs with absolutely no clue of what to do anymore in life.
What does a person do when they are truly left alone? For good?
Eat all they want? Scream? Let go of inhibitions?
"They cry."
"Huh?"
"An abandoned person should experience grief and let it out," its scratchy voice was back in her head. "Then transfer that grief into their magic and be overwhelmingly powerful," it made satisfied grunts.
"Lady Cordelia?"
Lord Emir turned to face her, at the foot of the stairs with one leg still placed on a stair higher than where his other leg was. Tibetha raised her head in response to her name being called out and Lord Emir held out a hand for her to take. The sun made his coat and collar buttons glow as if they were gold on fire.
Ah, right. He was abandoned as well. Well, not abandoned, but close enough. What a foolish lass.
Tibetha pinched the sides of her robe, and dress, and tip toed down the stairs, two in a go. She did not consider herself worthy enough to hold his hand so she skipped past its presence and landed beside him with a little bounce in her step.
"You don't act like a person who discovered familial abandonment mere moments ago," the voice snickered in her head.
Lord Emir pulled his hand back and slotted it inside his pocket. He gulped and fidgeted with his foot before stating, "The North is always pleasant, is it not? South was always cold and barren, a war front. I've lived all my life in the silence of the South. This is indeed a mind boggling experience."
Tibetha nodded, "I wouldn't know much but I'm sure there's someone who knows all of this place," she craned her neck and tip-toed in search of— "Ah, there are your guides!" she pointed a hand at the kids who had priorly hounded her carriage.
They were slotted against a wall, writhing and laughing as they lived life without much parental control. Tibetha would be them in a while, no qualms.
"Yoohoo! Come here please!" She shouted as low as she could, not having confidence enough. One of the boys caught her eye and their face morphed into surprise. With brows meeting their hairline and eyes widening like saucers, he dragged his fellow kids to run up to them.
"Ah! Kids!" Lord Emir exclaimed as he instantly bent over one knee and hunched to meet their eyes. "Hello kids! How are you today?" He asked before pulling out a handkerchief from his breastpocket and using it to wipe the stuck food and boogers off their faces— one child at a time.
They were saying something, words, but Tibetha was too far gone to comprehend. Her eyes zoned in on the handkerchief Emir was using on the kids; it was the same he had offered her.
She indeed was just like those homeless kids. He must have pitied her a great deal to tag along with her. Maybe he had already seen her dirty face.
An unsure chill ran down her spine, but before she could spiral further a small hand clasped her gloved fingers and she was being dragged.
Mother would have her dead if she saw Tibetha holding hands with a homeless person who looked so unpresentable. Good thing mother wasn't here.
"I've never met kids before, with such proximity. It is enchanting," Emir laughed, head turned to look at Tibetha while mid run, as he too was being dragged away.
"Ah- me neither," Tibetha smiled.
The cobblestone streets were transformed into a whimsical wonderland, each corner adorned with lustrous decorations inspired by the ocean's treasures.
The heart of the carnival was bathed in a soft, iridescent glow, reminiscent of what Tibetha assumed were ocean's depths. White and soft blue fabrics billowed like ocean waves above the walkways and dangled small pearl strings that all kids and adults urged to grab.
Emir had it easy, for with a simple tip of his toes, he grabbed a handful of the strings and distributed them amongst the kids. They laughed and praised him, he laughed and picked one of them up in his arms.
Tibetha stood there wondering if they had really met for the first time. The sun might be shining, but Emir was the real source of warmth for all those around him.
Excluding her, of course.
Tables and stalls were draped with pearl-encrusted cloths, and giant pearl chandeliers hung overhead. Skilled artisans showcased their craftsmanship, offering a dazzling array of pearl jewelry, from delicate necklaces to intricate tiaras. Women hoarded their shops like crazy, bargaining and terrorizing eachother out of the establishment.
The kids were not interested in jewels but they did stop in front of a humongous glass screen where people craned their necks and minutely followed the hands of the man harvesting pearls from oysters in a large, decorative tank.
Emir stood by her side.
"Pearls are an oyster's defense mechanism against parasites who might harm them. It's beautiful, right? How we have set a creature's defence secretion on a pedestal loved by all. On a war front, one's defence is only loathed by the enemy, yet, it is desired to penetrate and be won over. It's an exciting concept," whispered Emir, leaning closer to Tibetha's ear. She could hear the subtle excitement in his voice as his fists clenched by his sides and his eyes never left the meticulously working hands of the pearl harvester.
"How long had you been at war?" Tibetha whispered back.
"All my life," his lips pushed up in a smile that never reached his eyes. "I was taken when I was seven? eight? It was quite hard, but— eh, we made it and that's all that matters now."
"Are you okay now?"
He turned to face her.
His dark eyes roamed over her cloaked head for mere moments before he pulled the hood down to let her face out. Underneath the large hood was a small head with sunken cheeks and chapped lips as its predominant features. The hair were a greasy mess, left open to poke her eyes.
Tibetha flinched upon exposure and her hands rushed to pull the hood up, but they were stopped by something.
"You have beautiful eyes," Emir mused, cupping her face in his hands and leaning just close enough to look into her eyes. "They look as the moon would have, if it were gold," he pulled out a handkerchief from Merlin knows where and began dabbing it on her face.
Tibetha clenched her jaw, all of her neurons zapping orders to crumble on the floor or run away from this proximity and confrontation. She wasn't breathing, for his hands were too close. She did not want to scare him away with her hot breaths slamming down his hand.
She was no different than those kids.
"I'm all better now. My family has moved on from me. I rushed home, the first thing after stepping in the North— and I felt like an intruder. The people who looked me in the eye were not those whom I knew. The man they looked in the eye was supposed to be dead decades ago. They had better priorities now, with grandkids and everything no one wants a scary twelfth uncle to lurk around. I left this morning, for better or worse I do not know but it was peaceful nonetheless. Some people do better alone."
"A—" Tibetha opened her mouth, but shut it close in fear of him seeing ash residue inside, or anything that could potentially freak him away. Unfortunate for her, he leaned closer. His fingers made their way to her greasy hair and gently caressed through them. Her breath hitched as his hot breath rested over her nape, birthing goosebumps all over her hands. He tied her hair in a ponytail.
"Alone doesn't mean lonely, I am my best company. But in the long run, I'd love to have a family whom I can call mine," he stepped back and admired his work. Tibetha finally exhaled. The kids huddled around his legs and looked up at Tibetha with big charming eyes.
"The pretty lady is really pretty!"
"Do you still not want the pearl?"
The kids looked up at her expectantly.
But, after relearning how to breath, Tibetha was a mess of sweat and stutters as she opened her mouth to move it but no words came out of her throat.
"The pretty lady has my pearls now so she doesn't need new ones. I, on the other hand, happen to have none," Emir laughed as he ruffled the little girl's hair.
Tibetha cringed for those hands had been in her hair. They touched her dirty, dust laden self. He still did not look like he minded it. He had tied her hair with his pearls.
The girl giggled and twisted around to hug his leg again. She slid the pearl in his pocket and clung to him for dear life.
Was he more tolerant because he had survived a war?
He'd be an excellent father.
"Let's play games!"
Games sounded fun, yes, as soon as she could move her damn feet.