The Lost Dynasty

Chapter 7

Kyda sprinted through the pure white marble hallways, her footsteps echoing off the intricately carved walls that seemed to tell stories of a bygone era.

The gilded details, painstakingly etched into the stone, blurred as she raced past, desperate to escape the suffocating presence of the Empress.

The royal mother had gotten to her.
Her words, like poison, had lodged themselves in Kyda's mind, making her feel small—insignificant. Why did this hurt so much? Why did it matter?

Kyda's chest tightened as she neared Dr. Adil's study. The one place she thought could offer her relief. But even as she approached the sanctuary, the echo of the Empress's words reverberated in her mind, leaving a pit of unease in her stomach.

Kyda arrived at Dr Adil's colourfully lit room, created by the stained-glass chimes that were hung from the arch of the window. She found Prince Owais in a vest as Amita was by his side, treating his wound from the dual earlier.

She was obviously relishing the moment of being close to her beloved crowned Prince. Her cheeks were tinted like cherries as her hands mercifully applied compression onto his bare shoulders. Nevertheless, his majesty didn't seem to take interest; he was still unhinged from losing. At the desk was Dr Adil; he was slouching in his own chair with his nose in his books like always. The Emperor was becoming frustrated with the wise old man.

He wanted an answer.

Why was Kyda here?
What is her purpose?
And most importantly, how can she get back?
And finally, Saif.

He sat on the emerald green chaise lounge, its upholstery adorned with delicate watercolour floral designs expertly embroidered by the finest craftsmen in the land. As soon as his eyes landed on Kyda, his face broke into a warm smile. He shifted to one side of the sofa, making room for her to sit beside him.

Kyda ignored his action.

He was being courteous, but she was giving him the cold shoulder.

She went across the room, away from Saif.
She needed to avoid him.
Not because of the Empress but because she was becoming attached to the people who weren't supposed to even meet her.

She leans against the desk across from Dr Adil.

Saif's smile faded as he watched Kyda, clearly distancing herself from him, her gaze locked on the old man at his desk. She moved purposefully across the room, deliberately avoiding his presence as though to shut him out.

No progress yet?

His voice, once warm, now felt distant and hollow. Kyda acted as if he were just another face among the nobles and court figures in his life—an invisible player in a game he seemed to think they were both still playing.

The Empress's words echoed in her mind, Soon to be engaged... Her anger simmered beneath the surface, a mix of hurt and disbelief at how easily Saif could play this charade, knowing his own mother was orchestrating his future yet still teasing her with these pointless gestures of romance.

Dr Adil looked up from his work, noticing the change in her—her once gold-pigmented skin now pales, as if the very life had drained from her. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice softening but his gaze sharp. As the words left his lips, the room seemed to turn in unison, every eye now on Kyda.

The Dr stood up and placed the back of his hand on her forehead.
Then, on her cheek to check her temperature, "You look like you saw the ghost".

No, it was worse.

She went head-to-head with the Empress.

"Have you not been eating well?" The old man grew concerned.

Kyda's ears perked up from his question.

An image of her Nana (grandfather), with his tiny spectacles dangling from a steel chain around his neck, flashed through Kyda's mind as she sat at the table, remembering his soft, reassuring voice.

He used to ask her, "Why are you upset?" as she slouched in her chair, her thoughts clouded. But back then, the questions were simpler, and the answers were easier to find. Now, as she stared at her phone screen, the weight of a headline about another racial hate crime sat heavy in her chest.