Arabian Nights - Yami Yugi x OC

Chapter 6 - Avoiding Baba

nEw CoVeR wHo DiS?

I've had the new cover for a while, I've just been taking my time with this chapter because of life stuff, so it's not "new," but it is new, if you catch my drift. I wanted to make it match the cover for the sequel, so I redid it. Yes, I said sequel. Keep your shirt on.

This is also mainly a filler chapter; I wanted to start this scene and then kind of drag it out for effect. I also mainly put it here to build more on Zariah's mom because while she won't appear in the story, she is still an important character as Zariah often thinks of her mother and her mother is kind of her raison d'être.

And we open on Zariah and Askari...

When I wake up, I feel an extra body next to me and I hear snores that I know are not mine. My mind is fuzzy until I remember last night.

Right. I slept in Askari's room with him. My lehenga is wrinkled from being slept in and Askari's foul morning breath is making my skin crawl. Seriously, he needs to chew some mint leaves.

I place a kiss on his temple before slipping silently out of bed to go back to my room. I have to pry the fabric of my lehenga from Askari's fist, but he doesn't stir, even as I open the heavy door with a creak and sprint to my room on silent feet. When I make it back, I close the door and lean against it, breathing heavily.

"Where were you last night?" the shadows ask, to which I reply with a small squeal. A cross Nahla is sitting on the bed, polishing a bracelet.

"Nahla. Thank Allah, it's just you," I breathe. "I slept in Askari's room."

She looks me up and down, her eyes settled on the wrinkled silks of the lehenga before her eyes rest on mine, an angry-ish look in them. My skin crawls and I feel my face go pale before she laughs. "Oh, good. I thought you might have been doing something else. With someone else."

It takes me a moment to process what she means, but the wiggle of her eyebrows gives it all away. "Oh, my—ew! Why would you think that?"

"What was I supposed to think?" Nahla shoots back. "Your mother's lehenga is wrinkled and you weren't in your room when I came back last night."

"Anything is more reasonable than...dear Allah, I cannot even look at you right now," I reply.

"Zariah, Zariah, I did not mean it! I know you better than that," Nahla says. "You would never!"

"Correct," I say sternly. "And I don't ever want to hear those kinds of things again."

Nahla nods. "I chose a sari for you," she offers, producing a green sari (above) from my trunk. "With all the brown and tan and white, I thought some color would be good."

"I agree." I smile and take the sari from Nahla, stripping my lehenga off my body. The silk wrap of the sari hugs my curves gracefully, just as it did Umi's  body before.

"Zariah," Nahla breathes. "You rival your mother in beauty."

I smile back at her, remembering the late Sultana. "No one could hold a candle to Umi."

Nahla nods again, probably thinking of Storai. Nahla was born into a family of addicts who sold her for alcohol. Umi came across her and brought her back to the palace, where she grew up like my sister, but instead became my handmaiden. Umi had been as much of a mother to Nahla as she had been to me and Askari. Nahla grieved just as I had when we lost Umi, as she had lost two mothers. We became even more like sisters with Umi's passing.

"Come, Zariah. It's breakfast time," Nahla says, guiding me by the arm.

"Ukht, do you miss Umi?" I ask.

"Of course I do. You know she was also more of a mother to me than my birth mother was," she replies. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I say, shaking my head.

Nahla scans my face. "You were with Askari last night, weren't you?" she asks.

"I was." I sit on the edge of the bed to put my sandals on, but instead let them drop from my fingers to the floor. "It did not feel the same without Umi."

Nahla laughs sadly and sits next to me. "Nothing has ever felt the same without Storai."

"Even after all these years. You'd think I would know the feeling by now, but some days, I don't know it. Not even a little bit."

"Am I interrupting something?" Askari asks from the door.

I stare at him, my face expressionless, for a moment. "And how long have you been there, shaqiq?" I ask.

"Long enough," he replies.

I roll my eyes before waving him over. "We were just remembering Umi."

"I wish I could have been invited to last night's cuddling," Nahla comments.

"You can join in the next one," I tell her as I pull Askari onto my lap. He's not the little boy he once was, but he's still light enough for me to lift if I try. I finally manage to pull him onto me and the three of us lean back on the bed, Nahla to my left, Askari to my right.

"Hey, Ry?" Askari asks. "Are we skipping breakfast so you can avoid Baba?"

"That's preposterous. Why would I do that, Askari?" I reply, even though he isn't wrong.

"You just seemed kind of down last night, complaining about how you don't want Baba making all your choices for you."

"You've been doing it a lot lately, Zariah," Nahla adds.

"No, I haven't," I lie, avoiding their eyes.

"Ukht, please. We know you," Askari says.

"When you have problems, you avoid them. Just like you're doing now," Nahla says.

Okay, so maybe they're right. I got like this when Umi died, closing myself off from my problem. I didn't even say out loud that I missed her and felt depressed for nearly a year after her funeral. I still have my days when I just want to sit and cry and beg Allah to tell me why he took Umi from me. Now, something else I keep close to me is also being taken away, and I don't want to face it. I want to be my own heroine. I want to be more than a pretty face, more than something Baba can give away for his convenience.

"Zariah, just say it. What do you want?" Askari asks.

"I," I choke out, "I don't know. But I know this is not what I want." I gesture to the room.

Askari settles his head in my lap and I run my fingers through his curls. "Ri, you know Baba loves you. Why are you acting like he doesn't?"

"You should be the one to inherit the throne," I say. "I know Baba isn't getting any younger, but I'm scared for Riyawah's future."

"Zariah, you know you won't be ruling Riyawah," Nahla says.

"And why not? I would be a better ruler than any of the princes who have come to court me. Princes who know nothing of our traditions, our people, our life. But I'm denied that option for the sole reason that I am a woman. I'd have to relinquish my home, my life, my country, to some baboon I barely know."

"You know it doesn't work that way. If I could, I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat and become the next sultan," Askari says. "But nothing would change. Baba would still marry you off."

"And he'd make all those choices for me, and not once ask what I want." I adjust the wrap of my sari and stand. "I'm going for a walk. I need some alone time."

I wish I could find my own magic lamp. Maybe then, I could have the life that's so close, but so far out of my reach.