A Whole New World: An Assassin's Creed Story

Chapter Sixteen: The Office

Khayra blinked, not sure how to continue forward. Imran was always in his office, it seemed. Especially at this hour of the day. She was so certain that he would be there. But now what should she do? She could march off around the castle in search of him, but that wouldn't be a very dignified start to her proposal. Of course, she could sit in his office and wait for him to return. Making herself at home in his workspace would certainly be sending a message. But who knows exactly how long that could take.

With a frustrated sigh, she dropped the scrolls down on his desk. In reality, all she ever really wanted to do whenever she entered Imran's office was leave. The room, at his bequest, was tucked out of the way and in a forgotten spot of the castle.

It was a tiny room, her father always insisted it was a testament to his humbleness, lacking in the large windows that allowed in the breeze from outside. There were small windows that had long since been covered up in every way imaginable. It was a miserable space and yet, Imran hardly ever left it.

Rather than allow herself to keep reminding herself how terribly stuffy it was in this room, she started pacing. She busied herself by admiring each and every object in the room as if it were new to her. Even though it wasn't.

Imran was an extraordinarily tidy person, always keeping the objects of this room in its own space. Even her father's office, while used much less frequently, was in a perpetual state of disarray. Her father would always insist that keeping it that way helped him keep track of the important paperwork. Imran would sigh tiredly and half-heartedly agree.

The desk was immaculately clean, not a stray paper out of place. The books on the shelf were even painstakingly organized. And although there none of the servants were allowed inside the room to clean, it was spotless. At least, that was how she remembered it.

Khayra was surprised by a cloud of dust as she disturbed a book on the shelf. She choked violently, tears springing to her eyes. Disgusted, she replaced it immediately and didn't even bother to try to remember what made her so interested in it in the first place. Upon a closer inspection, it seemed that this place was not as immaculately cleaned as she had previously thought.

It had been, admittedly, several long years since she was brave enough to enter Imran's lair. The strict organization of his belongings appeared to remain the same. However, a thick layer of dust and dirt had settled on top of everything in this room.

It was odd. Imran hadn't been avoiding his office, in fact he had been spending more time in the room than ever. And yet, the room looked like it had been untouched for ages. It was difficult to believe Imran, obsessed with organization and cleanliness, would allow his room to reach such a state.

Only the statue of a parrot was immaculately polished, clean from any and all dust.

Layers of dust coated almost every other surface, however. Khayra was suddenly scared to touch anything, lest she stir up another cloud and send herself into another coughing fit. She moved back to the center of the room, with a defeated sigh. Imran couldn't be out for too much longer.

The door slammed open. "Your highness, you have no right to be here at all!" Imran accused, waltzing in. Khayra jumped at the suddenness but forced herself to quickly compose. She stood tall even if she was nowhere near the towering height that her advisor was, she hoped her composure compensated.

"I don't?" Khayra mocked surprise, "Are you saying I don't have access to the rooms in my castle?"

Imran sneered. "If you'll remember," he hissed as though the next words hurt to say, "This castle belongs to your father."

Khayra opened her mouth and then swiftly closed it. Imran, however, seemed to understand what she was intending to say. "And then, of course, it'll belong to your husband."