QAIS

Chapter 19: A Lover or A Fighter

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His small feet struggled to keep up as a firm hand pulled him through the magnificent hallways, his little hand far too small in that large palm. His large curious eyes peering at his reflection on the imported marble under his feet, too scared to raise to the uniformed servants lining the corridor with their heads low.

Bewitching calacatta under his feet, majestic baroque ceilings that could compete with the skies of paradise, and daunting gilded pillars that towered over his small, dainty form. It was like he had entered a realm of fantasy. He had read about such castles and palaces in fairytales. But it exceeded all of those conceptions. It was overwhelming.

He was out of place there it was no question. After all, it was a castle and he was a filthy boy. He felt even his presence would dirty the place. It was almost a blasphemy for him to be there.

Unruly dark hair, dirt-stained rosy cheeks, and blood-stained clothes. They had tried to change his bloodied clothes but he resisted making them cover it with a sweater instead. His messy hair almost fell into his eyes; they had also tried to cut it short and neat but he didn’t allow it. He was used to them shadowing his eyes. The eyes that gave him away. Piercing blue like that of priceless sapphires; the only grace he could offer to the grandeur around him.

He fluttered his long lashes in discomfort, a dimple arising from the pout of his lips. He kept tugging the wool sweater because he felt hot. He had grown far too used to cold, it was the warmth that bothered him now. The heat made the rosiness of his cheeks even more prominent. But the sweater was necessary, it hid the obnoxious red that stained his shirt.

He stole a glance at the tall victorian windows, where pastel curtains with streaks of real gold were drawn open. Beyond the glass laid an awe-striking view. The prettiest of gardens and the most ethereal of fountains and the vastest of fields all the way till they met the forests in the horizon. Shalimar Palace was definitely the second most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

The first most beautiful sight he had ever seen was his mother.

The hand tugged him harder making him wince. The adult didn’t care. But the boy's curiosity overcame the pain as they entered a new hallway. On either side of the open air hallway were large fountains and gardens. It went by fast because of their speed. He hadn’t even time to figure out the intricate statues or what they meant. His eyes landed on the guards stationed around many chambers and corners. All in Royal uniforms. Funny hats and scary weapons.

And then they reached majestic large doors guarded by the scariest of guards. They halted right before it, the guards all bowed lightly at the man holding his hand.

It was the Throne room.

“Tell Your Highness that I have arrived with the boy.”

The boy had to turn his neck up to look at the tall door as they waited in front of it.

“Whats your name?” Suddenly he was asked by the stranger that had been pulling him along.

For once the meek boy looked at him. Soft black beard, and dark hair that resembled that of the child if not for the streaks of grey.  The uniform of the royal butler looked like a second skin on him.

The boy remained silent, looking back down at the floor. He was never able to look people in the eye.

“I asked you what’s your name.”

Silence.

“If I tell you mine will you then tell me yours?”

Silence again.