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Her husband once told her, she would one day mean the death of him for - despite her beauty - there was nothing lovable about her. As it turned out, he was right in both regards.
Sometimes he, too, would tell her, she reminded him of a starless night lined with dark clouds, which prevented the moon from shedding his light upon their kingdom.
Za'nyah had never thought the moon was a comparison apt to describe him but he and their people used to love it.
She had hated it – still did and couldn't bring - no matter how hard she tried - herself to mourn him. No tears shed for a beloved ruler; if her people only knew, they would have lost all faith in their widowed queen.
King Malik of D'hahabi had been referred to as the desert's silver moon and now – ironically enough – she was married to a man who resembled the sun.
The question occurred to her the minute Sinbad had proposed to her: was she going to prevent him from shedding his light upon his own people, too?
But how could anyone steal the light from somebody so radiant? She had seen his flaws in the night time between silken sheets and needy touches but to the world Sinbad, High King and First Class Singularity was the epitome of a ruler, born to lead and destined to guide people.
Impeccability was what defined him and a few scars hidden underneath this armor of perfection could've never taken his radiance away from him.
It showed in the way he had looked at her the moment their wedlock was consummated. His golden eyes; she had lost herself in the depths of them, had seen her future and destiny in them - a promise of prosperity and love. Za'nyah thought she'd found a new version of a kingdom when she met his mesmerizing gaze, thought there was indeed hope her life would change for the better.
He had kissed her with a passion unbeknownst to her in front of his generals, council, foreign ambassadors, his and her people he had never shown her when he found her skin amidst warm orange candlelight. And it had dazzled her, clouding her mind.
However, in between all the glory, the colorful garments, the smiling faces of their people there hung certain darkness heavily in the air.
Sinbad's magi was a strange creature; dark and mysterious, yet he was so easy to read. Behind his cocky smiles he was constantly trying to hide a troubled past of suffering which an individual so young probably shouldn't have known. And yet his eyes told an ancient story.
Judal was terrifying and hateful.
Mostly for Aladdin's sake, she tried to avoid him but something about him tempted her to approach and made her curious to get to know him.
He had watched their dance with cold awareness of her fatal infatuation with his king. He had known before she had but the warmth of Sinbad's hand on her waist, the delicate smile on his handsome face as they swayed gently to oriental rhythms had mesmerized Za'nyah beyond anything she thought anyone to be capable of.
