Shadow Seer [18+]

~ Four ~

"Excuse me?"

Incredulity bled into Sanaa's voice that sliced through the air. A mixture of shock and disbelief woven into every syllable. The words had slipped from her lips before she could temper the edge in her voice, but the idea of a bodyguard was simply ludicrous. The emperor's punishment had already sentenced her to a gilded cage. She was left with no shred of autonomy, but yet, here Amir was. Surely, a man of his standing had more pressing duties than this!

Still, as she watched Amir watching her with an insufferable smirk on his face, the idea of being under his watchful gaze felt stifling, but also...exciting. She was loath to deny it but she was excited to have someone else to talk to. Someone whose power Ghassan also used without their consent even she had used that same fact to hurt him and he her.

She hated Amir for all the reasons that still held true, but Sanaa couldn't deny the similarities in their situation. She hadn't been able to for the last ten years she'd known him. Sanaa's hands instinctively found their way to her hips, a stance of both defiance and demand, as she fixed her gaze upon Amir.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Sanaa demanded, her patience teetering on the edge of exasperation, yet Amir remained frustratingly silent. Instead, his eyes drifted to where Miri remained bowed on the floor. A perfunctory eye roll spoke volumes, his impatience clear.

"Get up," his words were curt, a dismissive wave, dispelling the need for her behaviour. Miri complied without delay, her obedience almost reflexive, fuelled by her desire to escape imagined consequences, rather than a genuine response to his command.

"Don't speak to her like that!" Sanaa snapped, annoyed with his attitude toward her and Miri. Amir studied her before taking a sharp step forward, bringing him even closer to her.

"I'll speak to her and you any way I please. Now get moving."

With a quick jerk of his head, Amir instructed Miri to continue down the corridor and with a fleeting glance at Sanaa, the maid obeyed, footsteps resonating against the carpeted stone beneath. Sanaa seethed, her question still hanging in the air, but when it was clear he would not offer any further explanation, she deigned to let it go. Heavy with unspoken implications, Amir's gaze lingered upon her face — her bruise now covered by makeup and her veil — a fraction too long before he gestured toward the corridor, wordlessly urging her to follow Miri. She made to step past him and as their bodies became aligned she heard him say, "Remember what I said."

I was never here.

How could she forget? The very words were an oxymoron to the comedy that was her life. He was always there. In her head even when she tried desperately to force him out. Her responding silence was palpable, a barrier that held back whatever explanations she demanded and confirmation he required. With a conscious effort not to verbally confirm her pettiness, Sanaa said nothing and surged forward, a wave of determined resolve propelling her ahead of him.

She could feel him behind her. His every sanctimonious, ill-mannered step made her legs tremble as they walked the decorative hallways of the palace. It stood within high walls of the Sotaini capital. Ahkalthia, they said, was the jewel of Ghassan's crown. A monolith of a city that boasted trade from all over the Known World. She knew the palace was close to the sea because she could hear the docks if she spent time in the winter garden that lay to the north of the expansive grounds.

Constructed of sandstone and marble, the palace featured various designs to serve multiple purposes, and was adorned with the highest quality silks and furs that gold could buy. Sanaa walked the wide corridors filled with golden ornaments and painted ceramics, all priceless and hailing from lands she would likely never see, all because of Ghassan. All because of his son, who not only treated her with disdain for no discernible reason, but now meant to plague her daily with his very presence.