Nahla huffs beneath the shade of this tree, her face red from exertion, her clothing soaked through, sweat glistening her undefined muscles. Her eyes shift down as Lila spares a glance in their direction- she was being punished, after all, and she would not meet the gaze of her peers while she was being reprimanded for her behavior the evening before. She was far too exhausted, between the exercises, the blazing sun, and the considerable amount of sleep deprivation. Nahla sought to catch her breath as she assumed a humbled kowtow before her sultana to display the lengths of her rehabilitation to any that would spare a passing glance at the two of them.
“The fire wheels were troublesome, but we could enjoy some of the city before they interrupted, no? Living up to the sultana title means the wisdom of knowing which fights are better avoided and which must be faced.”
Of course, Nahla had no ground to stand on in this case, seeing how her own efforts butting into other people’s problems brought far too much unnecessary attention to her the previous night. Still, if Grace-of-Heaven started getting the idea that she could only seek happiness once all the fire wheels had left the capital, she would be dooming them both to undertaking a Sisyphean task. Of course, Nahla couldn’t just tell Grace-of-Heaven to accept that the fire wheels would be there for as long as Ruz wished. After giving her a taste of freedom, it occurred to Nahla that such a harsh reality would ruin any sense of newfound joy. 

Which is why Nahla placed her empty polished scabbard, black as pitch accented with markings as blue as lapis, before her in front of the sultana. She couldn’t have her sword on her, of course. Not at the moment, not while running and while being punished for her insolence. But when they escaped again, and when she had learned her lesson in the palace, her sword would be returned to her from beside the sultana’s vanity. (She could only hope that none of the other members of Grace’s harem would try playing around with her sword in the meantime).

“A sultana must know which fights are to be avoided and which are to be fought- which is why I entrust my body and my blade to your command. So long as you will it, my sword shall protect you from any and all that should wish you ill, my Grace.”