[color=lightgray][center]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Rn5AXwa.jpeg[/img]

[h1][b][color=#D8C27A]S A I L I N G [color=#2E2C2C].[/color] T O [color=#2E2C2C].[/color] S O R I A N[/color][/b][/h1]

[hr]

[sup][color=#C8C8C8][b][color=#D8C27A]Date:[/color][/b] Ignis 2 · [b][color=#D8C27A]Time:[/color][/b] Morning · [b][color=#D8C27A]Location:[/color][/b] Middle Sea — en route to Sorian on "The Radiant Dune."[/color][/sup]
[/center]

[hr]

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkKeIHJMBpU&list=PLy_Q-5e78AnwwFIjwYiDNdPS4BXsBSCkq&index=9[/youtube][/center]

[hr]

[center][table][row]
[cell][center]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/eHEtXXG.png[/img]
[/center][/cell]
[cell][justify]
The Radiant Dune had been at sea for nearly a fortnight.

Brightly dyed canopies danced in the breeze as the royal sailing ship made its way across the Middle Sea, en route to Sorian of Caesonia, carrying some of the Sultan’s precious offspring. The vessel cut through the morning swells of the sea with the confidence of a creature born to the water.

Beneath those canopies lounged Alidasht nobility, reclining on cushions as servants came one after the other carrying trays that clinked as they were set upon clothed tables.

Teas, sugared fruits, and towelettes scented with orange blossom were placed before the royals to indulge in. Soon the tables filled with even more delights: warm saffron flatbreads, bowls of yogurt drizzled with honey and topped with pistachios, and platters of sliced mango, papaya, and starfruit. Crystal goblets caught the sun as servants poured pomegranate juice.

Nearby, Royal Wardens kept steady watch along the railings, while the hooded Sultan’s Sentinels stood like statues, guarding everyone on board with vigilance.

Beneath the deck, a full traveling household was available to tend to the royals’ needs: attendants, scribes, personal physicians, cooks, and serving women selected from each territory.

It was the warm morning of Ignis 2nd.

The crew murmured of shifting currents and the possibility of summer storms, but the sky remained mostly clear. The passengers could no longer see land in any direction; only the endless rise and fall of waves. They were far from home now, and the long weeks at sea were beginning to settle into their bones. They weren’t slated to arrive until the morning of Ignis 10th after all.
[/justify][/cell]
[/row][/table][/center]

[hr]

Weaving between posts and the occasional sibling, [color=#EFA73B]Fareed’s[/color] tall form paced the room. Not clearly showing any form of agitation, but the sense of it was clear. [color=#EFA73B]“And we are certain that this trip is necessary? The… security in Caesonia is far from enough. Such stories have come from it…”[/color]

Aslam took a slow sip of tea, his closed eyes the center of his relaxed posture. [color=#FEF698]“It is our father’s will.”[/color] He spoke neutrally, setting his cup down without so much as a soft clink and at last opened his eyes, looking up at [color=#EFA73B]Fareed[/color]. [color=#FEF698]“I share your concern, brother, but I am just as eager to finally be off this ship. My supply of reading material is running quite low.”[/color] He finished with a self-amused laugh that lacked the concern he claimed to have.

[color=#6B8E23]Ranya[/color] simply watched her brothers with a smirk, her fingers gently kneading the thick, white fur of Aisha's neck. Her jewel-toned silks caught the sun as she moved, making her gold anklets chime a private, happy tune. Should she be wearing her “holy” silks? Maybe, but she felt like they were in a trusted area with trusted guards. Plus, Abba wasn't here to dictate her. She took another perfect slice of mango, enjoying the cool, sweet flavor against the hot air that always seemed to follow her. Her eyes twinkled with genuine amusement.

[color=#6B8E23]“Oh, my dear, serious brothers,”[/color] she purred, her voice playful as she glanced between Fareed and the seemingly calm Aslam. [color=#6B8E23]“Let’s be honest. This trip isn’t just about strengthening ties. It’s about apologizing for the theatrical disaster our family caused earlier in the season. We are here for damage control, a delicate repair job that only my charm can fix.”[/color] She gave a proud, pompous look before breaking with a snort of laughter at herself. [color=#6B8E23]“Think about it, Mayet threw a dagger at a duke, Nahir doesn’t remember an entire party, and poor Munir cried over a Countess who probably used him for a jewelry box. They made us look like a desperate spectacle! Abba needs us to impress, and frankly, I was bored with the palace. We are here to show the Caesonian King and Queen that the Kadir family is still the ultimate prize. Now, stop fussing and trying to wear a hole in the deck, Fareed. Let your little sister enjoy the fresh open sea air that she's [i]never[/i] experienced because she's never been permitted to leave home before.”[/color]

[color=#EFA73B]“I understand, even for them such actions were foolish. Do you think they were coerced? Should I prep my toxin tools?”[/color] Fareed’s pace slows for a moment, a far off look in his eyes.

Although she had been listening passively, Maryam had no desire to join the conversation. It seemed much like chatter, and hearing her recount the events was a little absurd. She was aware of the situation, yes, but it was odd to hear it spoken aloud. Her time was best spent thinking. Pondering, over whether this would be a mistake. She idly begins to tap her shoes on the ground.

Aslam had joined Ranya with a soft chuckle of his own at her initial statement that might have had the secondary effect of disguising tea that had gone down the wrong pipe at that moment. He, of course, had kept a vague eye on his distant siblings but Ranya always did have a wonderful way to put things that he VERY much appreciated. The prospect of repairing their image was a far more interesting project than weaving through the web of foreign nobles in the hopes one was less likely to stab him in the back.

[color=#FEF698]“Perhaps, but they should have been better prepared for such maneuvers. Whatever the case, we shan’t find answers out here.”[/color] His shoulders shrugged in the way he attempted to express indifference when a subject did bother him. Aslam brought a flatbread to his lips after another sip of tea, the movements made at a leisurely pace. [color=#FEF698]“All the more reason to CELEBRATE our dear Ranya’s first sea voyage.”[/color] His hand reached out for one of the yogurt, using the lavish spoon provided to bring some of the sweet treat to his mouth with a soft hum of delight.

With a fluid grace, Ranya rose from her cushions, the silks of her gown whispering against the deck as she intercepted Fareed’s path. She reached out, taking his large hands in her small ones, warm skin against his anxious energy, and gently tugged him toward the cushions as she gave him a reassuring squeeze. [color=#6B8E23]“Sit, brother. You are making the horizon dizzy,”[/color] she chided softly. [color=#6B8E23]“Keep the toxin kit handy, but no need to prep it just yet. Mayet wasn't coerced, that I can guarantee. She simply has the temper of a viper. And Nahir? She likely just found a bottomless cup, however Abba did say there were talks of magic or drugging. Certainly something to be aware of, at very least.”[/color]

The much taller sibling looks down at her, letting out a deep sigh and visibly relaxing. As much as he does that is.

She released him to glide toward the refreshments. A servant stepped forward to assist, but Ranya waved her away with a sharp, regal flick of her wrist, seizing the crystal pitcher of wine herself. She enjoyed the weight of it, the agency of serving rather than being served.

[color=#6B8E23]“Munir is a curiosity,”[/color] she continued as she grabbed four goblets and moved back towards her siblings. [color=#6B8E23]“Our brother, the eternal rake, suddenly weeping to 'settle down'? To break a playboy's heart, you must first convince him he has one. [i]That[/i] smells of manipulation.”[/color]

She poured wine into a goblet and then pressed the first glass into Fareed’s hand, then moved to Aslam. [color=#6B8E23]“But I prefer Aslam’s philosophy.”[/color] She handed him his wine, leaning down to press a warm kiss to his cheek. [color=#6B8E23]“To the horizon. And to the first time in twenty years the walls around me aren't made of stone.”[/color]

Aslam offered a warm smile at Ranya as he took his glass, putting down his now empty bowl of yogurt, and raised it boldly high at her toast. [color=#FEF698]“Well said!”[/color]

Finally, she sank onto the cushions beside Maryam, pouring her some wine before extending a goblet to her quiet sister to interrupt the rhythmic tapping of her shoe. [color=#6B8E23]“You are thinking too loudly, sister,”[/color] Ranya murmured, her voice dropping to an intimate purr as she settled close and giving her a warm smile. [color=#6B8E23]“Is it the destination that worries you, or are you simply plotting which of us to throw overboard first?”[/color]

[color=#0076A3]“Uhmmm neither… Just not sure if this is all a mistake, I guess.”[/color] Maryam murmured. It wasn’t long after her words that she suddenly rose and departed back to her bedroom.

Aslam’s first sip of the wine was a long, slow one taking time to savor the flavor. He titled his head side to side as he let the wine linger in his mouth for a prolonged moment before swallowing. His golden eyes had lingered far too long on the glass after he put it back down, his brows slightly furrowed. His decorated robe flowed down as he stood up and he made his way over to the nearby railing to stare over the waters. [color=#FEF698]“I knew there was work to be done, but hearing it from Ranya…just…”[/color] He spoke quietly to himself, a habit he couldn’t break.

[color=#FEF698]“...I wonder if there are any rare ingredients I can acquire while we’re here. There was a story about some crimson flower high in the mountains….”[/color] Aslam muttered a bit louder as he looked forlorn over the horizon. His posture slouching some as he leaned his arms on the railing, his long locks of black hair blowing in the sea breeze.

Ranya paused, her glass suspended midair, as Maryam disappeared with the startled elegance of a deer catching a scent on the wind. The space her sister left behind seemed to shimmer, and Ranya’s eyebrow arched in silent amusement. She barely had time to savor the oddness before Aslam slipped away, drawn to the rail and the restless sea, his words scattering into the salt air like secrets meant only for the waves.

She turned to Fareed, lowering her glass with a rare look of genuine perplexity. [color=#6B8E23]“Did I say something upsetting?”[/color] she asked, her voice dropping the teasing lilt. [color=#6B8E23]“I thought I was being rather optimistic, all things considered.”[/color]

That’s when a servant slipped into their circle, bowing low to murmur news of the delegation’s awakening. In an instant, Ranya’s posture changed. The warmth in her eyes cooled, the playful sister dissolving beneath the weight of duty. Obligation settled over her shoulders like a familiar, heavy cloak. What words boiled in Fareed's throat slipped as if rain off it.

[color=#6B8E23]“Excuse me, brother, but it seems like it is my turn to vanish for a moment as duty calls,”[/color] she said, handing her wine glass to the servant. [color=#6B8E23]“If the court is waking, then Suna’s Chosen must be seen. I cannot greet the others on the ship looking like… well, like myself.”[/color]

She slipped into the cool shadows below deck, vanishing as quietly as a thought. When she returned, she was remade. The easy silks and bare skin were gone, replaced by immaculate white gauze stitched with gold that shimmered in the morning sun. A veil hid the mouth that had tasted both wine and mischief, leaving only her eyes—dark, rimmed in kohl, unreadable. Each step was slower, her movements measured, as if the weight of her jewelry and the heavier burden of expectation pressed her into stillness. She settled among her cushions, serene as a statue in a sunlit sanctuary.

Qingling spent a good amount of time with her daily morning preparation before she considered herself ready to leave her bedroom and face the rest of the world for the day. Applying her elaborate and delicate cosmetics took time as it could not be rushed and then moving on to the actual dressing itself. Once personally certified ready, she left her quarters and moved up the decks of the ship to where the Alidasht royalty lounged to offer them her morning greetings. She glided over the decks of the ship, her feet mostly concealed by the long flowing nature of her dress that rested high upon her chest. Upon approaching the sheltered canopies of cushions, Qingling bowed in traditional Kimoon fashion to the princes and princess present first before acknowledging the rest of the other nobles present. [color=#FFC20A]“Good day, your highnesses, Shehzades, Shehzadi. I hope you all are doing well.”[/color] Once she was done with her greetings, she moved to an unoccupied cushion, pausing en-route to grab two pieces of warm saffron flatbread to munch on before even seating herself. Qingling would then focus her attention on devouring the flatbreads in her hands before moving to grab herself a goblet of pomegranate juice as well as a serving of the yoghurt.

Ranya watched the woman move, all liquid grace and easy confidence, gliding across the deck as if the world itself parted for her. Qingling bowed, then seized the flatbreads with a boldness that made Ranya’s heart twist—so unashamed, so alive. It was almost scandalous, and Ranya ached with envy.

[color=#6B8E23][i]Look at her,[/i][/color] Ranya thought, the fire in her chest sparking hot and sharp behind her ribs. [color=#6B8E23][i]She walks as if the air belongs to her. She plays her music, she dances, she eats when she hungers. She is an artist of her own life, while I am merely the canvas others paint upon.[/i][/color] Her fingers curled, white-knuckled, in the silk at her waist. It was never about the food. It was the hunger itself. It was the freedom to want, to take, to [i]exist[/i] without the suffocating shroud of holiness draped over every breath.

Outwardly, her mask held firm. Ranya tilted her head, letting her eyes smile with a flicker of warmth barely visible beneath the veil, all tranquil grace and gentle light. No hint of the wildfire beneath. [color=#6B8E23]“May the sun warm your path this morning, Hanim Qingling,”[/color] Ranya said, her voice a soft, melodic chime, perfectly modulated for a public audience. It was gentle, welcoming, and distant. [color=#6B8E23]“It brings joy to see the sea air has given you such a healthy appetite. Please, sit. The vastness of the ocean is best admired in good company. I hope the trip has been treating you kindly?”[/color]

While finishing up the first of the two savory flatbreads in her hands, she also took her seat, upon the princess’s invitation. Dutifully, she ignored the towering form of Fareed two steps behind his sister. Visibility being his own form of politeness. Ranya's mouth then moved to form words, and Qingling felt compelled to answer. [color=#FFC20A]“My appetite is rarely dulled, Shehzadi. My father often jokes with laughter among others that my appetite can feed a whole army of servants.”[/color] With the sole remaining flatbread she had initially taken left in her hands, she paused for a moment to take a scoop of the yoghurt before continuing to form words. [color=#FFC20A]“I am well-accustomed to such journeys. My father, being the influential passionate merchant lord he is, travels frequently, many times by ship, and I accompany him often.”[/color] Finished forming words, Qingling moved to munch on the remaining flatbread in her hands, tearing bite-sized pieces, one after another as she brought them to lips, savouring each one of them.

Amira had been up since the light had filtered in through her window. She had truly meant to join the others for breakfast, but after grabbing a fig from the kitchen when no one was looking, she had spent the last hour just gazing out at the beautiful ocean.

She imagined all that awaited her, and her chest could hardly contain the excitement that beat inside her. She envisioned going to a beautiful ball, filled with glamorous men and women. There she would catch eyes with someone, and then just in that moment, she would know. That was who she was supposed to be with for her whole life. She couldn't help but make a little squee noise as she brought her hand to her chest.

It was only as she saw the elegant Zhao from Qishu, that she seemed to notice herself. Not only was she running terribly late for breakfast now, but she had to remind herself that she was no longer alone. And not in that way that meant a guard or her siblings were close by, even if both were. There were constant eyes on her now, and she had to make sure to keep up the act of a dignified noble.

Though... it was just her relatives, right?

Excitedly heading after Qingling, she turned up at the luxurious area under canopies. Smiling a bright and warm smile to the rest of the nobles, she greeted them cheerfully, [color=#00AEEF]“Morning to all of you. I hope it has been as glorious for you as it has been for me.”[/color]

Quickly, her hands found themselves taking hold of a serving of honey-drizzled yoghurt, before adding on a ton of different fruits. Only then did she turn to take a seat in the mass of pillows as she looked at the deliciousness in front of her. She did not hold back for even one moment, seemingly forgetting all about her chastising herself about appearing more noble as she gladly indulged.

Aslam’s expression grew a bit darker as Ranya excused herself, the pleasant mood from earlier souring slightly in his mind. He made his way back to his earlier seat, pouring a generous cup of the wine he had tasted earlier, in preparation for the rest of the distinguished guests to arrive. Part of a smile came back to his face as Qingling made her entrance. [color=#FEF698]“A pleasure for you to join us. We are doing as well as rich food, soft cushions, and a beautiful vista can afford us. Perhaps once you have had your fill you can grace us with a small performance.”[/color] A bit of his more playful mood rising in his response as he gestured to each with an open hand that finally pointed towards the vast sea that laid just beyond the railing.

He didn’t interrupt the conversation between his sister and Qingling, nodding along as his eyes darted to the current speaker. His stomach was mostly full so beyond his sips of wine he snacked on what fruits there were. [color=#FEF698]“I am sure you have a wealth of stories to tell then. I am curious to know what sort of exotic sights you have come across.”[/color]

The muscle of his left eye briefly twitched as he noticed Amira follow in shortly after, but he quickly schooled himself as he turned his attention to his cousin. [color=#FEF698]“You are quite lively again today, Amira. You must have slept well.”[/color] The smooth glass of his cup graced his lips immediately after he spoke.

Ranya sat as still as painted sunlight, hands folded perfectly in her lap. [color=#6B8E23][i]She speaks of feeding an army,[/i][/color] she thought, envy curling like smoke in her chest as she watched Qingling eat with such unburdened gusto. [color=#6B8E23][i]And I am not permitted to feed even a whim.[/i][/color]

[color=#6B8E23]“There’s a kind of wisdom you only find in the world’s marketplaces,”[/color] Ranya said, her voice gentle and clear, like water over stones. [color=#6B8E23]“I imagine their maps are drawn in colors we’ve never seen.”[/color]

Then the whirlwind arrived. Amira burst in, all noise and hunger, her laughter squeaking through the air and scraping at Ranya’s nerves like grit caught in silk. Aisha rumbled a low, sympathetic huff, and Ranya’s hand found the tiger’s neck, fingers kneading the thick fur in silent thanks. She let her eyes crinkle with a practiced warmth as she turned to greet her cousin, masking the flicker of irritation beneath a silken smile.

[color=#6B8E23]“Cousin,”[/color] Ranya greeted, her tone indulgent but laced with a quiet command. [color=#6B8E23]“You bring a storm’s energy to a calm morning. Do breathe between bites, Amira. The fruit is not fleeing. It will not jump overboard if you do not conquer it all in one moment, I promise.”[/color]

She caught Aslam’s eye, sharing a fleeting, conspiratorial glance before turning her attention back to Qingling. [color=#6B8E23]“But please, Hanim, indulge us. Tell me something so impossible it might just be true. I am starved for a little wonder today.”[/color]

Qingling looked towards Prince Aslam as he spoke about gracing them with a small performance of her own. [i]Now[/i], that was something she could do. Although she did not have any of her musical instruments with her at the moment, she could still sing for them. Like all of her performances done in Qishu, her singing was always done in traditional Kimoon, followed first by an explanation in the common tongue so that all could appreciate what the song was about. Qingling would indeed be glad to entertain the entire gathering of royals and nobles on the deck this beautiful morning. The song she was about to perform was a signature of hers, an interpretation of two ancient Kimoon poems about a lonely traveller far from home.

Her hands free of all the flatbreads and with the yoghurt completely consumed, Qingling rose from her seat and bowed proudly to all that were present.

[color=#FFC20A]“Shezades, Shehzadis, fellow nobles, I will be performing for you a popular song of mine called ‘The Passage of Time’. This song is based on two ancient Kimoon poems about a lonely traveller drifting through a vast, mist-shrouded range of mountains and cold rivers, where the changing colors of the leaves and the flight of wild geese serve as painful reminders of a home they cannot return to. It reflects on the tragedy of time, lamenting how a person’s vibrant youth eventually fades like falling petals, leaving them alone with only the silent moonlight and the memories of a life spent wandering. It is a poem about the longing for a past that has withered away while the world indifferently moves on.”[/color]

The young noble then moved her cushion to a more central position and knelt on them as she began her song. It begins with a hypnotic haunting tune, the sweeping and airy melody of her traditional singing style that has captivated many an audience. The breathy tone with its swaying, rhythmic pulse, rises and falls like gentle waves, drawing in listeners with a captivating effect. Not once does she raise her voice, instead maintaining a low soothing tone that feels peaceful and melancholic, as she conveys the song’s theme of deep, underlying ache for something lost. Once she was finished with her performance, Qingling did another Kimoon bow and beamed a proud cheerful smile that was completely opposite to the melancholic song she had just performed. [color=#FFC20A]“I hope my performance was to your expectations.”[/color]

[color=#00AEEF]“I slept so well, Cousin Aslam,”[/color] Amira replied gratefully in a cheery light voice as she stopped for the moment to stop her attack on her food, [color=#00AEEF]“The swaying of the boat is like the ocean itself is rocking me to sleep—”[/color]

Almost like a mother... she had gone to say but stopped herself at the last moment. It was not like she would know anything about how that would actually feel. Her smile faltered for a moment before quickly distracting herself with the deliciousness in front of her.

It was then she heard Ranya greet her with words that brought a warm blush to her cheeks. Her hand slowed down as she found herself focusing on the food. It was much nicer to concentrate on than the creeping feeling she had that maybe this family reunion wasn't going exactly how she wanted.

Luckily for her, Qingling was fast to delight them all with a beautiful song. Staring up at the elegant woman with large brown eyes filled with wonder, all she could do was be in awe.

This lady was so graceful and peaceful, leaving all eyes on her as they soaked up her art. Amira couldn't even fathom having that kind of presence.

That did not stop her from speaking up in a quiet, hopeful voice though as she fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, [color=#00AEEF]“I - I can't sing, let alone follow up on such beauty but... I can dance a little.”[/color]

Aslam listened attentively to Qingling’s song with his eyes closed, swaying his head lightly alongside the tune. It was truly a hauntingly beautiful melody and even if he couldn’t understand the lyrics, which he could, Qingling’s performance carried the intended feeling of the music perfectly. He looked towards the songstress with a smile as he clapped his hands. [color=#FEF698]“It was very enjoyable, Hanim Qingling. I thank you for indulging me this morning. If only I could bottle it up for later.”[/color] Aslam mused with a soft sigh. Truly the unease he had been feeling just recently seemed to have retreated back into the deeper depths of his mind once more.

His attention shifted over to Amira once she had spoken up. Aslam did not wish for the rest of the trip to be a tense or awkward time between them, even if she was another one of her father’s agents. It would be too much of an annoyance to maintain and Qingling’s song had placed him in a rather merciful mood. [color=#FEF698]“Would you be willing to give us a small demonstration, cousin?”[/color] It was a genuine request from the eldest prince, an olive branch for the trip at least.

He had long since read through what books he had brought with and there was sadly no laboratory he could experiment. Aslam would take what entertainment he could find.

At the sound of her cousin's voice agreeing, she looked up at him with shock that seemed to scream 'really?!' before beaming a grin back at him that was as bright as the sun beating down upon them. Amira had never performed in front of anyone but the servants and her teacher, but she was not going to let this opportunity pass her by.

She stood up a little too fast to hide her excitement or keep up the appearance of the noble she was. Looking around, a shy smile seemed to light her face as she noticed the space she had and the fact that she had no music. Such little things would not stop her passion, though.

Slowly closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and listened to the waves of the ocean hitting the side of the boat before her hips started to move with the gentle metronome beat. There, under the bright blue sky, Amira opened her bright amber eyes and stared past the people and right into the water that carried them across to a foreign land.

Arms calling out to the unknown, she brought it in, as she started to bump her hips from side to side. She no longer seemed to even notice the eyes on her, raising her arms up above her head before bringing them down to flow across her body. Then without any warning, she spun—a lovely spin that made her skirt flare up and jingle—till she tripped over a plate of fruit.

Toppling over the loose fruit and wooden ball, she fell hard to the wooden floor of the ship. Amira made a surprised guttural sound at the sudden impact before she groaned and began checking her forearms, which had caught her fall, to see how badly they were hurt. Next moment, she was looking past her long brown hair to where the rest of her audience was, a bright red blush starting to burn up her cheeks.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Ranya held herself upright, every inch the golden idol, while Qingling’s song threaded through her, tugging at the old ache that lived beneath her ribs. [color=#6B8E23][i]A life spent wandering,[/i][/color] she mused, the thought sharp as citrus. [color=#6B8E23][i]I would give up this title for even a single day of such freedom.[/i][/color]

[color=#6B8E23]“Your voice carries the weight of the mountains, Hanim,”[/color] she said aloud, her public mask serene as the jewelry on her veil chimed. [color=#6B8E23]“It is a rare gift to make a heart ache for a home it has never truly left.”[/color]

Amira rose, and chaos bloomed in her wake. Ranya watched, lips barely twitching, her disappointment cool and distant as moonlight. When her cousin finally tumbled into a heap of silk and crushed fruit, Ranya remained perfectly still, only Aisha’s low, amused chuff betraying the humor in the scene.

[color=#6B8E23][i]The storm finally broke the furniture,[/i][/color] Ranya’s internal voice drawled. [color=#6B8E23][i]This is why they cage us, Amira. Because you are made of clumsy, unbridled impulses.[/i][/color]

She exhaled a thread of patience, silver-fine, her gaze gentling as she donned the mask of saintly compassion. [color=#6B8E23]“Passion is a fire, cousin, but even fire must be mindful of where it treads.”[/color] With a flick of her fingers, she summoned a servant. [color=#6B8E23]“Are you alright, Amira? It would be a tragedy for our journey to end with a twisted ankle before we’ve even glimpsed the shore.”[/color]

As Princess Ranya complimented her on her performance, Qingling smiled warmly with pride. It always felt great when others enjoyed her performances, be it her music, singing or dance. It was something she lived for, and would never get tired of. [color=#FFC20A]“You are too kind, Shehzadi. I feel most honoured that you enjoyed my humble little performance.”[/color] Her gaze then shifted to Princess Amira who seemed like she was now motivated to put on a little performance of her own.

Qingling was eager to see what the royal had in store for all of them. The Kimoonese looked on with delight as Amira started dancing and watched intently. Then without any warning, the Shehzadi fell in a tumble of silks and fruit and a plate that was flung her way, which she caught with ease. She placed the plate on the deck and without any hesitation, Qingling got up from her seat, and moved over to where Amira was checking her forearms. She knelt down and moved close to check on the princess, but also made sure not to touch the royal without permission.

[color=#FFC20A]“Are you hurt, Shehzadi?”[/color] As a dancer herself, she was no stranger to falls. When she first started many years ago, her arms and legs were often bruised from the many falls she had until she learnt to practice well.

Aslam had found himself impressed by Amira’s movements at the start of her dance as he watched on with passivity exceeded only by his darling sister. He was well versed in the many dances within the kingdom and for a brief moment he believed Amira to have a genuine talent for it. That belief came crumbling down just like the Shehzadi onto the floor. His eyes closed for a brief moment as he gritted his teeth and exhaled through his nose. The only redeeming factor of this incident was it had not been around outsiders.

He nodded his agreement with Ranya. [color=#FEF698]“I should have a lotion with my personal items to ease any swelling should there be bruising. The ball will quickly be upon us when we arrive and it would not do for you to be injured.”[/color] The softness in his voice did not quite meet his eyes. He would not have to worry if his Uncle had trained his daughter as an assassin it seemed.

Amira had hoped for the same compliments that showered Qingling, but instead, after her little accident, Ranya's words cut through the awkward silence like steel.

No matter how kind they sounded, the tears were already starting to threaten to spill from Amira's eyes. Then there was suddenly the elegant Qingling, the star of the morning, right down there next to her, asking her if she was alright.

She no longer could hold back the tears, and before anyone else could reach out to help her up, she was up in a startled mess of clinking jewellery and silky cloth. What was long, luxurious chestnut hair that had been carefully prepared, was now a tousled mess sticking to her skin and catching on to the golden decoration. Her large amber eyes looked over all the staring faces, and before another word could be said, she ran.

Jingling and bare feet padding across the wooden deck, she ran until she could no longer see the eyes that stared at her with pity or something she could only liken to distaste. It was only when she ran back to her cabin, with the door closed behind her, that she stopped running. There she threw herself onto her bed and stifled a small cry.
[/color]