If Layla's Parents Ruled Estia (Part I)

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(Sorry if there are any mistakes. I rushed the proofreading. Anyway, this is a concept I've always wanted to write and I hope you guys like it.)

Sinbad travelled with Hinahoho and Jafar on their ship. They were heading towards Sasan until Sinbad discovered another country on the map. It was situated along their journey and they would only have to make a small diversion to get there.

"What's the country called?" Hinahoho asked.
Sinbad brought the map closer. "The writing is so small, it's hard to tell. Estral?"
Jafar snatched the map from him. "Let me take a look. My time as a former assassin trained me for this type of stuff." He looked at the map and was able to read it instantly. "It's called Estia. And by the looks of it, it's an incredible small country."
"Maybe that's why we didn't know about it until now," Hinahoho wondered aloud. "I've never heard of any merchants from there or even any travellers. And no one's really mentioned it before."
Sinbad laughed. "Well, there's only one way to find out! Once we get there, we can see what sort of country it is and perhaps find out why it's secluded off from the rest of the world." He looked towards the horizon with a smile. "I wonder what we'll find there."

***

"Layladria, you haven't even touched your breakfast." An older woman with mahogany coloured hair tied in a bun with a crown atop her head looked at her only child. "You should eat."
A man with crystal grey eyes, matching his daughter's, turned to her in concern. "What's wrong, princess?"

Layladria was the crown Princess of Estia. She wore traditional royal garb which consisted of a purple, crystal embroidered bandeau top with an off the shoulder neckline and fitted sleeves up to her wrists. She also wore the traditional patiala harem pants of the same colour. Her hair was unruly and curly like always, falling down to her waist, with a simple jewel encrusted headpiece.

She breathed out deeply as she poked at her food with the fork. "I'm not hungry."
"Oh, she must be nervous," her mother, Queen Amira, giggled. "Idris is coming today."
Layla rolled her eyes and ground. "Mother, please. I am not nervous. I'm dreading it."
"But I thought you liked Idris?" Prince Wasim asked.

Now, just a note that although Wasim and Amira were married, it didn't necessarily make him a king. Being queen was Amira's birthright and so Wasim could not have a higher ranking title than her.

"Well, I do. Kinda..." Layla said. "And I know I agreed to this marriage but only because it will benefit our country. I mean he's nice but he wasn't the man I dreamed of marrying."

Wasim glanced at his wife, both of them knowing how she felt. They married for love so it was unfair that their daughter was having an arranged marriage. However, with Estia being such a small country and being so closed off from the world, marrying into the governing body of the country was the only way for their civilisation to advance and grow stronger.

Wasim looked his daughter. "And what sort of man did you dream of marrying?"
Layla smiled to herself at the thought, almost daydreaming as she spoke. "An adventurer. Someone who wants to travel the world. Someone who loves the ocean just as much as I do." She looked down at her food. "A man who loves life and will stop at nothing until he's reached his goal. Someone kind and thoughtful but also has an idiotic side to him." She laughed softly. "Someone who wants to do something greater. Someone who wants to change the world."
Amira held Wasim's hand on top of the table. "Perhaps Idris will be that man one day," she said to console her daughter.
Layla's smile dropped. "Perhaps..." Placing her cutlery down, she stood from the table. "Idris will be taking me out for lunch and I don't want to spoil my appetite. Also, brother Shaheen will be coming along to chaperone."

Ignoring their attempts to protest, she ran off to her room. She locked the door before climbing onto her bed and pulling out the book from under her pillow. It was her favourite book, a gift from her cousin. She had already read it over ten times. She smiled as she read the title, the words engraved into her memory.

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