Weight of the Crown | Shifting Sands

The tour was lost on Rosleigh, who could occupy no space but the one in her own head. She was lost in thought - so much so, that it might have appeared rude, except when the woman spoke directly her, she managed to snap clear enough to bow her head politely and thank Etzla's second wife with a small, sheepish smile.

When she had gone and Etzla addressed them, instead, her cheeks flushed again as she lowered her gaze. She understood it... the sense of irritation. They were playing a dangerous game, and in Etzla's home. It was a risk, she knew, not just to her and Hama, but to Etzla and his family as well, and she had enough sense to be embarrassed for her own actions... though not entirely sorry.

"A chaperone won't be necessary..." She answered, looking up with a small shake of her head, "Please don't be mad at Hama. I... It's my fault. I encouraged it, entirely."
 
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"While I understand that you're somewhat at fault, it is not unclear to me that Hama is somewhat party to it as well," Etzla said, sighing and rubbing his eyes. "But! It is late. And we have made significant head way. I merely wished to have you stay at my house at least once before being spirited away to some unforeseen location - may what Hala wishes transpire."

He paused darkly before saying, "I do ask that you and Hama - regardless of where you are - exercise more caution. He should know better. Your people - you have many tales of romantics and chivalry and women like objects, made to be pursued. That is not the way here. It is not only your reputation you risk - but his as well. It is a grave offense to even implicate that adultery of any kind for one of your station. And as an unwed woman..."

"...you could become unmarriageable. Even executed, if situations permit," Hama muttered softly, his voice wavering. "My deepest apologies. I put you in danger."

"Hmph," Etzla scoffed with agreement.
 
Her irritation bubbled to the surface, as her arms looped across her chest, folding, not unakin to a scolded child, "I know the risks... And I would never... I would never endanger Hama. Or you, Etzla. But you..."

Turning away, she blinked furiously against the sudden tumult of tears that threatened to fall, "You can't know what it's like... Knowing the only thing in the whole of the world that matters to you is the one thing the world would deny you."

Her breath caught and drying her eyes with the back of her hand, she shook her head, "I just wanted one moment... Where none of it mattered. Where I... where we were free to make our own choices. I'm tired of being in a cage, Etta. It isn't fair..."
 
Etzla cast his eyes down, but the look was still on his face. He leaned forward with his hands pressed together as Hama reached out to Ros momentarily, before drawing back. He took in a long, deep breath before letting it out for the same duration. He clapped his hands together.

"You've felt nothing like this before in your young life, and Hama neither, and I understand this. I... was perhaps harsh. I just ask you to have some caution. At the least, be familiar in less open spaces," Etzla suggested, trying to reach a compromise. "Things will not be this way forever, princess, I promise you this. The feelings you have... Well, Hama would like to pass off he's just a goat, but trust me when I say that more than one noble has tried to get him knotted to their daughter, and they had not an insignificant amount of money."

Hama shot Etzla a rude look, but Etzla ignored him.

"There is hope yet. You are young. It only looks bad now. We'll figure this out."
 
Maybe Etzla was right, but in that moment it felt utterly hopeless. How strange that so recently she had felt more happiness than she thought possible to possess and now, only weight. A great, pressing weight. If his Grandfather could not be stopped, they would be forced apart... And while Hama would have his vocation to fall upon, she would be without anything to comfort...

She could not be wife to a horrible creature like the crown prince. She wouldn't be. There remained no options but to sever the deal made with his grandfather through the king.

Yet even then, in the depths of her heart she knew there would be only more struggles. Her own father was a man of politics. He would bargain for her hand just as he had her sisters... And he would never allow her the choice.

"Etzla... Would... could you give us a moment, please?" She asked, sniffing softly.
 
Etzla looked between the two, and he nodded solemnly, getting up to allow the two of them space. Hama looked over to Ros with baleful eyes, his feelings both obvious and bruised. He held his side gingerly, but he seemed far more preoccupied with what was going on in front of him. There was a gentle strum at the back of the room, and his head snapped around to see Tzimitl softly playing on a cushion far enough away to give privacy while not sacrificing their courtesy. He hung his head, and he said, "I... I do not know what to tell you."
 
"I've never allowed myself to want anything much, Hama..." Rosleigh started softly, "My whole life I've been told I'll probably die too young to amount to anything. And for a long time, I believed it."

Looking up, eyes filled with emotion, she shrugged, "Then I met you... And you have altered my world in such a way, that anything and everything seems possible. You gave me courage to trust that I would make it further than anyone ever thought. You gave me wings again... And for once, tonight, I allowed myself to believe that I could have something... And it was nice."

Hands knotting together, she shook her head, "If you asked it of me... I would give up everything to be with you. But I will not ask you to do the same. You have worked too hard, struggled through so much and I would not, for anything, see that torn from you. But I... I confess, Hama... There is a small, selfish part of me... I need to know... if things were different, if circumstances weren't what they are..." Trailing off, the words died on her lips, as she couldn't bring herself to ask after his feelings.
 
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Hama stares at the princess sitting across from him, and he listened intently to her words. He was astounded by her candor, her honesty. In a world where deceit was the norm, where a stab in the back was as typical as a shake of the hand - it only served to endear her more to him.

"My Lady..." he breathed out, caught up for a moment in the fantasy. "...you...would have all of what I could offer you. If the stars would allow it....if Hala had it in His plans... I would put all those dreams I have on the shelves and follow whatever dreams you touch."

He cast his eyes down, the words catching in his throat. His heart hammered in his chest, his broke ribs spiking pain, but they didn't seem to matter. All of the world had constricted to just that room, just those two sets of lungs.
 
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Her eyes slid shut for a moment, as she savored those words ... Moving and beautiful, and so very painful... It wasn't fair. For all the good they tried to do. For all they would bring to it... The world gave nothing back.

A tear slid along her cheek and her eyes opened, as tentatively, she reached to touch the back of his hand, only briefly, before he own hand returned to her lap, "Is there nothing we can do?"
 
Hama rubbed his face wearily, his face heavy with emotion. He licked his lips and it was as though a thought had taken him over, a maddening hare that took off on him just as quick.

"There...may be. But it is not a sure bet. You could..." And here he paused. He glanced back at Tzimitl, who was still playing her life skillfully near the back.

"A woman cannot choose her fate. Her father or brothers must bless the union for it to be considered legitimate. In the absence of a wa'li - a male relative who can give blessings upon a woman's decision - she is then considered under the protection of the household she resides under and which has taken her in."

He paused again, letting that information sink in.

"This is not law. It is a...a custom. But well received and still followed. My father is your wali while you are here, away from your brothers and father. Perhaps...perhaps he can bless a union through contest. To allow men to compete for you. To make it a game."
 
"Then we could do this?" Sitting straighter, life returned to Rosleigh's gaze as she reached for his hands, "Oh, Hama... If this... if this is even a thought of a prayer! I would do anything. Whatever it takes. But what of... what of the Crown Prince? Your grandfather won't release my debt so easily, not even for you. Not if it gains him the political clout he's hoping for. And your father... will he? Would he even give his blessing?" There were so many variables, but for a fraction of a second, there appeared hope, and that had to count for something.

The thought occurred then, however, and she paused, drawing her hands back, "What sort of game? This competition... Is it dangerous?"
 
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Hama screwed his face into a pained expression as he laughed a bit, a sure sign of his nervousness. He cleared his throat a bit, and he admitted, "It... it is. Not to you, of course, but... If you were merely the daughter of a merchant with an indecisive mind and a skein of independence, I do not believe that the competition would take a black turn, but you are... are a princess, from a very powerful country. Your hand is worth killing for. And it is not uncommon for suitors to suddenly, and inexplicably, die without warning under... odd circumstances. It would be a dangerous game, as any man who sought your hand would be eligible to throw their cloak into the pile."

He shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head.

"I was trying to see what we could make stick. I... apologize. You must understand that I would... would try to do whatever it took to make you happy, and if this were the path you wished to take..."

He looked up to her with baleful eyes.
 
"There's so much risk..." Hama being hurt, or worse... His family ruined or targeted... Open war with Cain'Loren... Those were but a few disastrous outcomes of such a dangerous idea. And yet, not to risk it at all meant, undoubtedly, an unhappy marriage to a miserable man and the likelihood she would never see Hama again. It was a thought she could not bear to think on...

"You needn't apologize. It's just... I could never be happy if anything were to happen to you. But we... we could never be anything more than what we are right now, if we don't try something. We would be forced apart... Or forced to hide. And I will not subject you to a life of lies or ruin. If this... if this is our best or only option, I think we should try. If... if you wanted to, I mean."
 
Hama was about to say something more to the esteemed lady, but there was a commotion at the door that drew away his attention. Tzimitl had stopped her playing as well upon hearing voices near the back door, and she stood up with the help of a cane, her eyes darting to Hama and Hama's to hers. The doors blew open with a great shove as Etzla strode in and threw a man in dark clothing onto the floor, the man's eye bruised dark blue and his lips a lurid purple where no doubt the big man's fist had made contact. He jabbered in Azawi, seeming to plead for clemency, and Etzla's expression was dark.

"I found this rat staring in at us. Caught it by the tail," Etzla spat.

Hama's eyes grew dark as he looked at the man on the ground.

"Who does he work for?" Hama asked as if this were a frequent occurrence.

"As it turns out - he won't say," Etzla stated, cracking his knuckles. "But it is likely your grandfather has our guest tailed. Our discussions will need to be discrete."

The man made as if to get up, but Etzla pointed a long, thin sword that seemed to materialize out of the air, and the man quailed.

"What do we want to do with the cretin?" Etzla said with perhaps too much enthusiasm.
 
Frowning, Rosleigh rose amd moved closer to the man, though not close enough to be in any sort of danger, "Does he speak Lorenite?" She asked, but imagined the answer was a no.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. Let him go. Send him back to his master. He can inform Hama's grandfather that he won't get such an easy prize, after all.? Looking over her shoulder to Hama, she nodded, "That is... If you're sure it can work?"
 
Hama rubbed his chin as he thought, looking over at Etzla momentarily as he considered his options. This was a dangerous game they threatened to play, and it was likely that someone could very well be murdered in the ensuing chaos of a princess announcing a yemania, a contest to soften men for the heart of a young lady. It was ironic that this was often the outcome.

"Perhaps we ought to keep him. He will be able to say what my grandfather has said in his confidence," Hama suggested, looking at the man on the ground with a blase glance, as if this were not a bizarre experience on their part. Etzla hauled the man to his feet.

"I had thought he might need prodding to remember details as well. What think you, princess? It seems you two have been conspiring while I was gone. I knew we'd make an Azawi of you yet," Etzla stated as he shook the man in his grasp, looking for all the world like a bear holding a rabbit.
 
Rosleigh was not, by nature, a violent young woman. The idea of the things men often had to do or even chose to do to get information from others was, frankly, appalling. But this was bigger now, than her own sensibilities.

This man had the potential to afford them a leg up, and that was something, most desperately, they needed.

Swallowing, straightening back her shoulders, she nodded, "Do what you must."
 
Seeing the look on the princess's face, Hama had a moment of hesitation, his jaw working.

"Etzli, why don't we take him to the hospital. I believe I have some... more kind ways of handling the prodding," Hama offered, glancing at his brother's sword. The man before them continued to plead, and Etzla shrugged, gesturing the man to get up.

"It will give you the chance to clean up as well," Etzla figured, leading the man out. Hama looked to Rosleigh with concern.

"Princess...is this the path you want to take? There is time to turn back."
 
Looking to Hama, Rosleigh nodded without hesitation, "Yes. Any information he has may help us understand what your grandfather might be planning. And anything that keeps us out of the blind is best."

She paused however, and her expression shifted, softening, "Unless... unless you mean the other thing. In which case I suppose that's up to you. I would never ask you to put yourself at risk for me. Even if... even if it would get me what I want."
 
Hama considered this, weighing the options. He had never been a competitive person in any other arena of life other than the rock wall. To willingly put others at risk...

As he walked her behind Etzla and their captive, he admitted to her, "Lady I do not know if I could participate. We take an oath as doctors here, that we do only the harm which would lead to health. To harm others is anathema. Even if indirectly." He gently, though hesitantly, patted her shoulder.

"But this is your decision, Ros. I believe in your judgment. I wish I could be so decisive. I merely have my head in the clouds—"

The thought stopped him, as if something had clicked. He glanced at her, as if to say, but it was too late - Etzla was already beckoning them into his private biga.

"Come! We are wasting oil and precious time!" The big man called out.
 
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