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@ayzrulesR A H M A N & M A I
Rahman found that, while he disliked pomp and ceremony, he was going to enjoy this particular event far more than he might have thought. He could practically feel the energy throughout the room. There was no doubt that any number of sexual partners were being considered but the intrigue and distrust that seemed to ooze from the assembly reminded him very much of negotiating on the battlefield. He suspected his little sister was right and the event might be more familiar than he had anticipated.
Pari, bless her heart, had done all of the talking as the siblings had previously agreed upon. He would prefer to be underestimated in this social scene than not. As she had introduced the small bundle of fur to the King of Vertiron, Rahman had studied the man. Almost twenty years his junior, the King was a handsome and youthful man, even Rahman could see that. Rahman had studied the reports carefully prepared for him by his fathers spies before attending and knew that the King of Vertiron was no warrior, but he had certainly taken great pains to become a formidable statesman. He was a man worth watching, and a man worth watching closely.
The Ursamalian's withdrew, leaving the King with the furious bundle of tiny fangs and claws in his arms to allow the next guest to approach. They had not gone more than a few paces when a familiar voice hailed them across the room. "Prince Rahman, Princess Pari!"
Rahman turned and his face split into a genuine smile at the sight of the tall blonde haired man making his way toward them. Sir Honeycutt, Rahman still wasn't sure if it wasn't some private joke given the man's true sex, was welcome in Rahman's presence no matter the time of day, a unique privilege accorded to very few. The two had fought together in the Great War and The White Elephant had been knighted personally by Rahman, whose amdiration had only grown when he discovered that Honeycutt was a woman. It was Rahman’s order, and fear of his retribution, that assured the silence of the Doctor and the men who had brought Honeycutt to the surgeons.
Honeycutt nearly forgot that the pair were not on the field of battle and was about to offer a hand, a grave deal indeed in Usamolia since one did not touch royalty in public. Instead a grave frown creased the handsome face, which Rahman knew was a mocking version of his own, and a bow which he returned with a hint of amusement. Pari, as was her fashion, quickly became the focal point of the reunion and the two carried on happily while Rahman continued his study of the room.
There was no shortage of young faces, unscarred, handsome, pretty, whatever you wanted to call them, the faces of young people who had never truly felt the bite of a blade, or the fear and glory of battle. He hated them for it, knowing even as he hated them that it was irrational. It was not their fault they were young, but he certainly did not think they had any right choosing the future of great nations as they pranced about like dandified pixies.
Rahman half heard Honeycutt excuse himself, and then Pari, with a small smile, slipped away into the crowd. His gaze was drawn to a tall blonde man who had stepped forward, a bearskin across his shoulders. A Lygarthien. They were formidable warriors by reputation and he knew well the promise that had been broken to them. He caught the mans name, Sigafast Ogmundsson, a powerful chieftain by the sounds of it. Rahman would have to ensure he sought the man out to discover his feelings about their hosts. He took two steps and then stopped in his tracks as the Euhijan made their appearance.
His first impression was once again of youth, but one had to be careful with the Euhijan, they often looked younger than they really were. He made eye contact with the King, Liu, he was fairly certain, and saw the others gaze harden. There was no love lost between the two nations and Rahman returned the gaze with a carefully blank expression. The woman at his side, wearing a red dress as vibrant as Pari’s also shot a glance his way but he ignored her. Her time would come, as would Lius’.
Rahman would have needed a soul of stone not to enjoy the Euhijan gift however. Even he knew it was likely to a diplomatic disaster. It never did well to remind your enemy of your previous quarrels when the whole point of the meeting was to make friends, or at least try to initiate somewhat positive relations. Still, the gift has sass, and he admired that in people.
The Euhijans made their presentation and stepped back before splitting apart. To his surprise the woman, he knew her to be Duchess Mai, made eye contact with him and began to walk in his direction. He noted her fine dress, almost gliding over the floor, her petite frame reminding him of the Euhijan woman he had taken into his harem.
"Prince Rahman," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a warm smile, one that did not quite reach her eyes. "I hope you don't mind the company?"
“Duchess,” he did not smile in return but offered a short nod. “Your company would be most welcome on such a night as this.”
The duchess arched an eyebrow, her eyes dancing with playful mischief. “Really,” she replied, a hint of sly coyness slipping into her expression. “I’m glad to hear it.” She paused for a moment, taking a dainty sip of the wine and pursing her lips.
“Your sister is well, I hope?” asked Mai, tilting her head to the side in a bird-like manner. “She looks absolutely lovely. And I’m sure King Theodoro and his mother simply
adore the tiger cub that she gave them.”
“Always, one tends to wonder where she gets her energy from.” Rahman said with a thin smile. He was not drinking at all himself, to many close calls with poison attempts, a common method of removing a hardened enemy in his homeland.
“They are welcome to the creature. I suspect he will seem less like a gift and more like a curse when he is grown. Not, perhaps, unlike the gift of a certain sword.”
“She probably needs all that energy to deal with tiger cubs, mmm,” Mai agreed with a light laugh. Although her tinkling, clear-as-glass laughter appeared casual and careless, her eyes remained sharp and shrewd. At Rahman’s comment about the sword, Mai gave him a sweet, innocent smile.
Very direct, is he not? she thought wryly to herself.
“Pardon me for being forward, Prince Rahman, but you are completely wrong. I can assure you with the utmost certainty that a fully grown tiger will be
much harder to handle than a mere sword.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, a cheerfully teasing twinkle in her eyes as she leaned in slightly. “Just think about all the lovely furniture he could ruin! And gowns, and paintings!” Mai gave a small shudder.
The duchess drew away, smiling slyly. “Of course, you must be wondering why His Majesty would decide to remind our gracious hosts of such…
trying times,” she murmured, the smile never leaving her face as she looked up at him from under lowered lashes. “And to that, I would like to ask you-how does one move past such events without being reminded of them? I have always thought it important to find it within myself to let go of old hatreds while understanding the exact cause of them.” A delicate pause. “Don’t you agree?”
Rahman gave a genuine chuckle as Mai outlined the damage a tiger would wreck on the unwitting hosts. He himself had several on his palace grounds and rather enjoyed feeding criminals to them when the occasion demanded it. It did a man a world of good to watch a thief or liar get his internal organs torn apart by a hungry six hundred pounds of claws and fangs.
Mai’s attractive features and coy eyelash glances were not lost on Rahman but he knew well the power that her Kingdom wielded, just what sort of suggestions she might be floating, and carnal satisfaction wasn’t one of them. He paused for a moment after her question. She would know, as well as he did, that these things were not forgotten and old hatreds were never died. Perhaps there was something beyond the basic interest. Euhijan and Usamolia had more in common culturally with each other than they did Astaria or Vertiron after all.
“Old hatreds never die duchess, I think your gift was a blunt reminder of that.” He gestured to where the blade was being cleared away by servants. “As for moving past the events to which you refer, it will take generations for a world to exist where they are but footnotes in our history.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced about the room again. “Though, having said that, there are only a handful of us here who actually fought in that war. The rest of you,” He looked down at her. “Have no idea what it was like. Those of us who fought, lost friends, saw cities levelled, it will be much harder for us to move on. Perhaps you have some wisdom to offer on the subject?”
Mai gave another one of her light, clear-as-glass laughs. “Is that so?” She gave the Usamolian prince an inquisitive look. “I assure you,
I had no part in choosing the gift. Personally, I think a painting or a vase or some jade hairpins for the Queen Regent’s hair-she does have such
beautiful hair, you know, and the jade would have brought out her eyes-would have been just fine, but...” Mai shrugged nonchalantly. “Alas, it was not my decision. Although I must admit that I do quite like the…
sentiment behind the one my king has chosen.” Mai’s eyes glittered with something dark, then (though even Mai herself could have not said what it was
exactly), and her voice dropped to a murmur. “Perhaps you are correct in that regard, Prince Rahman. Though our gracious hosts do not seem to agree with you. Why else would we be here today?”
Mai’s lips curved up into a small half-smile at Rahman’s next set of remarks. “You are correct again, Prince Rahman.
I certainly did not fight in the war.” She tilted her head to the side, pretending to seriously consider his words. “Neither did King Liu, in fact. But his brother did.” Mai’s widened her eyes innocently. “Why don’t you ask him about his brother?”
Something close to savage fury rippled across Rahman’s black features at the mention of King Liu’s brother. The King had been partially responsible for the destruction wrought on Usamolia, though ultimately the task had fallen on his first cousin, a man Rahman had personally slaughtered in the Great War.
“I would have killed the man myself if I’d been able.” With a supreme force of will be brought himself back to the present and relaxed. The war was over. At least for now. “A worthy adversary to be sure. I believe that he, and your King, died in the same battle that nearly claimed my own father. My forces arrived in time to complete the rout and returned their bodies to Liu.”
Mai felt a flicker of satisfaction at the reaction she elicited.
My, my. Prickly, are we? Don’t worry, my prince. So are most of the men I know. You’re not much different from them, are you?She gave him a sweet smile. “Yes. A worthy adversary.” She paused, deliberately, feigning surprise at Rahman’s next words. “Oh, you did not hear?” asked Mai, her voice soft. “During the former Regent’s trial, there was evidence of foul play on his part when it came to His Majesty’s father.” She gave him a conciliatory look. “Don’t worry, though. Prince Anzhou’s death was
mostly unplanned for.” Another sweet smile flitted across her features.
In Euhijan, it was common knowledge that King Liu was
very bitter about the war. Mai knew that he blamed the war-and the three enemy kingdoms-for putting the former Regent on the throne. Mai personally would have tried to remain indifferent about such events, if not for the fact that her dearest husband had given up their daughter in the Regent’s twisted game of politics.
Rahman gave an indifferent shrug. It didn’t matter to him how the enemy ended up dead and buried, even less so if it was petty squabbles among Euhijans. Privately he was disappointed it hadn't claimed the entire filthy clan but wishing rarely made it so.
“I well aware of how it has been investigated in your courts. I will be blunt with you duchess, I give no shits for how your royal line chooses to die, as long as they keep to their side of the damn river.” He was tiring of the games she was trying to play. He had no doubt she had was an interesting woman, and would undoubtedly look lovely flat on her back, but this verbal duel was not his speciality and he knew it.
An amused expression slid onto Mai’s face. “Fair enough,” she replied. She paused deliberately, as if she were deep in thought.
“My apologies if I’m wrong, Prince Rahman,” she began, widening her eyes slightly and idly playing with a strand of her hair, “but I do believe Lady Hua is distantly related to the royal family. Mm. She’s someone’s second cousin, I think.” A sly smile. “I assume that you don’t mind if she does not die on our side of the ‘damn river’?”
Rahman looked genuinely confused for a moment, his eyes shifting so that she could could almost see him thinking. Then his eyes brightened and a charming smile rarely seen outside of Usamolia displayed teeth shockingly white against his black skin.
“You mean Hind bint 'Utbah! No one has used her Euhijan name in twenty years, herself included. No, you are right, she is always welcome in my home. I shudder to think of how my life might have been without her, despite our… How would you Euhijans say… Unconventional relationship.”
The woman in question was his first concubine, she was nearly 55 now, immensely fat, happy, and installed in her own small villa where she was living out her days in luxury. She had borne him two fine sons who were the same age as the duchess, and no longer shared his bed but continued to run his household with an impressive efficiency. By her own choice she had no contact with homeland or its people, preferring to embrace the life thrust upon her.
Mai watched Rahman’s expression change shockingly quickly, and she smiled along with him when she heard the genuine affection in his voice as he spoke of Hua-or Hind bint ‘Utbah, Mai supposed. She seemed to be enjoying life, and for some reason, hearing that was immensely gratifying.
Still, though, thought Mai,
giving her a choice would have been nice. Though that’s the way it is, with noblewomen and marriage. There’s never a choice. Mai’s inner thoughts were much too bitter and much too
raw, and she paused for a moment to ruthlessly banish those emotions before she responded to Rahman.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Her voice was dry; amused. “So does your attitude about your concubine extend to her kin?” She gave him a curious look. “Like King Liu, perhaps?”
Rahman sensed her pause and wondered if she was thinking of her daughter. He knew of the death, his spies had kept him informed of the goings on and he truly felt sorry for her. In Usamolia is was taboo to kill ones’ own kin with your own hand and he suspected that there might be a greater depth to this diminutive woman than she let on.
“No. It does not.” He said flatly. “Your people still have much to answer. Though,” this time he paused as a new idea formed quickly. “There is always a chance for a new generation to forge a new path.”
Mai resisted the urge to let out a derisive snort. Instead, she gave him another overly sweet smile and batted her eyelashes at him. “If you say so, Prince Rahman. If you say so.”
She tilted her head to the side and openly considered him, meeting his dark-eyed gaze. When she spoke, her voice was spider-soft. “You speak of forging a new path,” she said, “but are you willing to take part in it yourself? His Majesty was no more than a boy, twenty years ago. Yet you seem to blame him for a number of things.” Mai gave him a thoughtful look. “Quite contradictory, no?”
“Someone has to bear the blame duchess,” Rahman said calmly. “And Liu will bear that blame until he can prove he is not a bloodthirsty megalomaniac like his predecessor. He stands in the shadow of monsters.” He held up a hand to stop the casual retort about his own past before it could be uttered. “Yes, I am aware of my own history and I have no doubt there are southern tribesmen who say the same about me. Such is the irony of being a ruler.”
“Mm. So you agree that you and your ‘predecessor’ are ‘bloodthirsty megalomaniacs’ and ‘stand in the shadow of monsters’ as well? That is good to know.” Mai flashed him a brilliant smile. “Well, I must say, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Rahman. I’ll not disturb you any longer.” And with that, Mai glided away, wondering if she would prefer Princess Pari’s ceaseless energy to her brother’s arrogance.
Rahman watched her go, not bothering to reply. The woman, no, girls, youth and immaturity had managed to rear its head right at the very end, reminding him once again of how out of place someone of his age was at this function. At least her sarcastic quip had served to destroy any sort of positive attachment to her. He gave a silent mirthless chuckle and made his way for a balcony.
