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❝ WHY ARE THESE peasant clothes so uncomfortable?" Jafar groaned as he followed the eldest princess through the streets of Agrabah, taking time to pull up his linen trousers ever once in a while, "I feel like a prisoner already, 'Shida."
"Just stop being a big baby and come on," Rashida walked past corner shops and markets, going to a quiet place in the city.
"Why are we going here?" Jafar groaned again.
"I think you know."
They stood in front of an old blossom tree, its rose-colour leaves were on their spring peak, recast sprout the fruit they knew tasted divine.
They sat on the hill, the only green patch of land in the whole of Agrabah. It was enchanted.
"Do you remember what I said when I saw this?" Rashida asked Jafar, who was picking at the grass below.
"Yes, yes...it was something along the lines of, 'What the hell is this green stuff?'" Jafar stifled a smirk.
"You don't have to hide your emotions around me, you don't have to be all...tough," Rashida said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Jafar quickly brushed her hand off him, he knew what was going on here. He'd be stupid not to realise it...she was sent by the Sultan to be some sort of seductress. He knew he had to behave, but he couldn't let her think her plan was working too quickly.
"I-I'm sorry," Jafar sighed, "I...find it hard to let people in. It's hard to trust people when you're used to a life of betraying others."
Rashida smiled, seeing the face of her dear old friend, "I understand. You are a good person though, Jaffie. You did this for me." Rashida pointed to the tree.
"Yes, but I was in love with you. Love makes you do stupid things," Jafar laughed.
"I used magic," Jafar said, admitting something, "I lied when I said I did it with my bare hands."
"Oh, right. Still, I know how much your sorcery means to you. Even if it is witchcraft."
"I can't believe your still against it, I thought you would have grown up by now."
"Same here, your still the same too."
Jafar looked at the ground, he really wasn't.
"Come on, Jaf. We have an evening banquet to attend," Rashida said, grabbing his hand.
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Jafar looked across at Rashida from across the table, he kept his gaze on her as he bit into his food, slowly.
"So, Rashida. How about you tell us your plans for when you become Sultana?" Hamed asked, catching the attention of everyone on the table.
The Governor of Arabia, the Grand Vizier of Syria, Ahmad, the Prince and his father, the Sultan of Irania (a neighbouring country) were all sitting on the dining table with the royal family of Agrabah, enjoying the large feast they had prepared.
Rashida was still distracted by Jafar, who was intensely looking at her while eating...
She couldn't help staring at it without her mouth falling open, the Sultan coughed loudly, trying to get her attention, "Rashida!"
Rashida turned with her eyes wide to her father, before going red, noticing everyone saw her staring at Jafar, "Um...Sorry. I-I plan to try and make Agrabah the best it can possibly be. I know some people don't have riches, they aren't entitled to the same luxury as us so I want to try and help them. In any way I can."
Ahmad spoke up, "Anything for your people. I admire your notion, your Highness."
"Thank you, Prince Ahmad," Rashida nodded in his direction.
"It's marvellous you two are getting on, considering he is to be your husband," The Sultan spoke up.
Jafar almost spat out his drink as he heard this, "I beg your pardon, sire?"
