[quote=@Odin]
Ketill would only look up at the ‘Sultana’ once she had thrown the flask at him, its contents gushing around inside. He looked at it momentarily and then reached for it, taking it and taking off the cork, smelling the liquids inside. Smelling the alcohol, he put the cork back and held on to the flask. Her small outburst at calling him stupid only made him smile. [i]“Do you really think that, or are you just saying that because I outsmarted you?”[/i] he asked, swinging the flask side to side, the contents once more sloshing. 

He would listen to her perform her tirade for the next few seconds, wondering if she’d ever shut up. Perhaps she had thought that, for some vague reason, he would concede to her and do as she asked. When she explained just what they had sentenced him to, he began laughing, softly at first but louder after he realized just what he had done. [i]“Sounds like a good past-time, to whip a man every day.”[/i] Despite the anger of the woman in front of him, or at least, her well-contained anger, he seemed perfectly calm. In fact, he seemed quite satisfied with himself. [i]“You are well within your right to go back on your promise, of course. Although a Sultana isn’t meant to break her promises lightly, I assume.”[/i]
Finally, he got up and walked closer to the bars of the cell. He stopped once he was close to her, and held out the flask to her. [i]“Keep your wine. I do not need your luxuries to reaffirm myself in my beliefs. You were a meek woman when you first met me – did not speak more than a word, called me ‘my lord’. Now look at you. You’ve settled right back in.”[/i]

Her comments at having taken greater men, and having suffered at the hands of the Broacien people… it made him realize something. [i]“So what was a Sultana doing in Broacien anyway? You seem content in your wealth and luxury now. I see no reason to abandon it. You told me you were a trader – but never what you traded. And…”[/i] He did not finish his sentence, saving it for later. He had something that he just realized, which he thought would be better asked at the end of the discussion. Where she thought she held the power, she would find quickly that Ketill would not bow to her will. Not now, not ever.

The promise of exchanging leather for steel thus fell on deaf ears. He would not have agreed to it – not after she made him wait two weeks. In this trepid dungeon, waiting for his fate, being fed with what seemed to be leftovers of the house slaves, and being given water only once every two days. The wine had been a welcome present – but his honour had demanded he return it. If only to make a point. Whatever treatment they had given him during these two weeks, it made any chance of him accepting her offer disappear. But he was not really offered the chance to retort, and let her know that if he was paraded through the palace again like some jester, and placed in front of the Sultan, forced to kneel, that he would spit on the sultan if given the chance.

Instead she asked him where he wanted to be buried.

What a question.

He looked her deep in the eyes when he spoke, making it clear that he was not saying anything in jest in that following moment. [i]“When you left the Sultanate, you left with your brother. But you are here, and he is not. When I first heard you were the niece of the Sultan, I was confused about your goal in Broacien – I did not think of your brother. But, it makes sense now. There is a reason he is not here yet.”[/i] He’d remain silent for a moment, offering her the chance to reply – but he honestly did not expect that. He expected her to remain silent in anger. He knew this was something she didn’t want to talk about, most likely. If only because it reminded her of the lies she had spoken, not in the name of Najla but in name of Saina.

[i]“We are buried in the soil. Six feet deep, with a cross on top. You don’t have to return me.”[/i]

When he spoke to her now, he slowly walked back to his corner in the cell and sat back down, looking up at the ceiling rather than at Najla. He seemed disinterested in whatever else she might’ve had to say, and whatever choice she made now would be without effect – her best bet was to simply leave as Ketill would not listen regardless. [i]“You can bury me next to your brother. He was… or is… a warrior. He would understand that we are equal when we are dead. But from you… I know now, after two weeks, that you do not understand that. So go back to your dear family, and tell them the Servant said mean things to you again.”[/i]


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