Collaterals

Dead is the Man

"Let go of me, Tameem!"

"No," He grunted, grabbing the Young Lord and pushing him back with enough vigor that he stumbled.

Khaled glared at his brother as he moved forward, "Tameem, I swear by all that is holy—!"

Only Tameem blocked his path again, his face in Khaled's as he spoke harshly, "And what happens when you go to her, huh?! When you help her when she has not asked for aid, nor has the duel ended—?!"

"She clearly is in no position to remove her scarf—!"

"I understand that!" Tameem insisted. "But if you help now she will be disqualified and all this will be for naught!"

Khaled sneered, looking to his brother with flared nostrils. His eyes shifted, looking behind his brother to where they'd finally managed to haul that oaf off her. What few torches there were made it so Khaled could see minimally, certainly not the rise and fall of her chest. He grunted, pushing away from Tameem and putting space between them as Mother appeared, fan in hand.

"Enough." Mother said. She gave a pointed glare as she continued, "You are making a scene."

"Leila—."

"Is between the hands of fate, now." Mother raised her brows, "You'd do well not to tempt it."

Khaled did not respond, looking to Mother as his chest rose and fell. The sound of feet shuffling atop the ground had Khaled look away.

Haitham frowned as he walked up to them, "I do so hope the Kind Lord does not intend to do something foolish. I would hate to prepare a cell for the night."

It was Mother who took a step forward, snapping her fan shut, "Oh my! I do so hope you do not mean to imprison your champion's fiancée!"

Mother spoke loudly enough that those who hadn't been eavesdropping now were. People stepped closer, and Mother was nothing if not an opportunist. She brought a hand to her mouth as she fluttered her fan frantically, "Oh, just— just the thought has me faint!"

Tameem was quick to step by her side, holding her outstretched hand as Khaled blinked. He looked to Haitham, watching as he scanned the crowd. 

Tameem looked over his shoulder, "Fetch Mother some water!"

Haitham looked to the side, clearly holding back the urge to roll his eyes as he straightened, "My Lady, it seems you misunderstood me." He looked ahead, now, to the crowd, "Why would I mean harm to my own sister's future husband?!"

The Boy King stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Khaled's, "Let it be known that this man here is the closest ally to the Crown, as his Father once was. In fact, tonight, we feast in his honor!"

Khaled looked to Haitham, eyes wide as he began to usher Khaled forward. Cheers sounded through the crowd, but Khaled pushed out of his embrace. He all but spat the words out, hands gesturing to Leila on the ground,  "You must be mad if you think I'd leave to feast now!"

Silence was quick to settle as Haitham stared at him. This time, Mother did not step forward. No one did, not a muscle moved out of place. And then Haitham raised his chin, "Dead is he who calls his King mad."

When Mother gasped this time, Khaled did not think it was the theatrics. He looked at her, clutching Tameem's arm as his brother held her, eyes fearful. 

Only when he looked to Haitham once more, the Boy King had broken out into a sardonic smile. He looked to the crowd, "But I am a merciful King. And I say we feast!"

And so Khaled was made to turn his back on Leila, dying on the ground, and walk side by side with his King.