A Guide to Charming Royals

Chapter Twenty-Eight: ARIAH

As a royal, history lessons start very young.

You're taught about the wars, especially ones that concern your ancestors who were great warriors–and assassins–that have set Riyadh to be the country it is today. There are also lessons on the laws that exist today, with a focus on the monarchy and the Drasqat dynasty.

But no one tells you how to feel when returning to a city you haven't set foot in since you were a child. No one mentions how to mend broken relationships. Certainly no one speaks about ghosts of friendships, a boy who is gone and has left in his absence a feeling of nostalgia that consumes us. A yearning for a childhood that is past our reach, that has dwindled into tiny fragments like rocks thrown into the ocean, barely making the water ripple.

And still, we mask our features into a calm, learned blankness, attaching our fairy pin to our hijab, and slipping a blue half-mask over our face. We extend a matching one toward Leila, who glances down at it as though we've offered her poison.

"You might be hideous, but I'm not," she says, peeking out the window of the plane. Her knee bounces against the untouched tray of food before her. Leila clutches it, before it can topple over, and moments later a hostess arrives to remove it. "Why do you all cover your face?"

"It started during wars," we tell her, admiring our reflection in the mirror. With a glance toward her, we notice that she is frowning, but lifts the mask in her hands. "It was a strategy so spies could enter different kingdoms, and no one could confirm where they're from. One of our ancestors, she was faceless to the world, and during the second war, she herself entered an enemy kingdom to wreak havoc on their throne. After the wars, it became more of a way to protect children of royals, so they could live mundane lives. Now, it's a Riyadh tradition to wear a mask until you're ready to settle down."

"But why should I wear a mask?"

"Because we're in enemy territory. This is our first time in Emir after seventeen years, and the Royals of Emir do not like guests. So, it's better if you remain hidden from them for a while longer."

She blinks, assessing us for a long moment, before she quietly slips on the mask.

"We weren't being serious." We chuckle, as the door opens for us and guards confirm it is safe for us to exit. "Or we are, but they won't harm you. Madyan vouched for you to his parents."

Leila rises mutely, following us down the aisle.

We glance down the steps, toward Dadi Jaan and our parents, who wait for us. Surprisingly, Uncle Rami sulks behind them, his face masked and Ishq in his arms. If we feel nostalgic about the couple of years we knew Emir, we wonder how he feels. He spent longer in Emir, running away from his family and to Auntie Omaiza every time he was facing an issue. With the way the rest of our family describes it, Auntie Omaiza had been more family to him than his biological relatives. Or perhaps, he is annoyed because he is currently a simple move on a chess board, a strategy to display good relations between the two cities.

When we step down, Dadi Jaan is the first to beam at us, her arms spread wide. We draw into her embrace, kissing both her cheeks as we say, "Eid Mubarak."

She echoes the greeting, and lets us meet the rest of our family. This is better than yesterday, when we had celebrated Eid by ourself in the confinement of our home, before deciding to go on a trip with our guards. Though it had been fun, it feels different to be with family.

When we get to Uncle Rami, we rise on the tip of our shoes, whispering, "If you smile and relax, we'll go out to eat at your places of choice for a week when we're back in Medina."

He chuckles, but seems to acquiesce when he pulls away, petting his cat.

All eyes shift toward Leila, who appears lost as she fiddles with her hands and shifts on the heels of her shoes. "That's the friend we told you all about," we say. "Leila, meet our family, or some of them, at least."