"Deepest apologies Your Highness, could you repeat what you said?" The governor cautiously squeaks in Persian. My blood runs cold, I don't know Persian. I can generally understand it, but speaking it is a different matter entirely. The months in Ecbatana were focused on Persian customs, manners, and dance. The only language the royal tutors bothered trying to teach me was Chinese.
Luckily, Fatima steps in. "Her Highness was merely speaking in a court tongue to express her enjoyment of the tea." The governor sighs with relief and his body visibly deflates as he relaxes. He dabs his face with a silk handkerchief. It comes away dark. The rest of the day passes without further incident thankfully. Fatima informs me that we will be resting overnight in the city and set out in the morning.
The governor has reserved the best inn in the city for us as it would be inappropriate for a prince's fiancé to stay overnight in a private residence. As the palanquin nears the inn, shouting can be heard. A man is arguing with two city guards over something. I can catch only parts of their quarrel:
"...already paid for...!"
"...orders...princess...!"
The rasp of a sword being drawn rings through the night. One of the guards has drawn his weapon against the man. He strikes. The pale light of lanterns reflects brilliantly against the polished steel as the blade swings downward in a lightning quick arc. The other man is motionless, no doubt frozen by fear. He's dead.Clang! There is the metallic ring of steel biting steel. A blade goes flying through the air. No, only the upper half. The guard is dumbfounded as he stares at what's left of his weapon. Taking advantage of the situation, his assailant dashes forward and deals a blow to the gut that instantly take the guard out of the fight.
I brush aside the beaded curtain to gain a better view of the fight, as one-sided as it is. The man is tall with a build reminiscent of a soldier's. His long, sable hair flows behind him in a night-black cascade. A silvery glint catches my eye. So that's how he blocked the blade. A steel gauntlet peeks out from underneath his blue robes. But his face... His steely gentle expression meshes beautifully with his elegant facial structure. If God's angels came down to earth, he would surely match them in handsomeness.
He moves swiftly with an assuredness only experienced warriors possess. With but a few strides he is upon the remaining guard. The guard frantically scrambles to draw his weapon. An explosive "oompf" and the guard collapses. Then the man's eyes fall on me.
YOU ARE READING
The Foreign Empress
Historische RomaneA cold and potentially fatal marriage, an imperial court embroiled in assassination and conflict, a hidden conspiracy that could shatter not just a four-century-long peace but the empire itself. In the midst of it all, a girl whose struggle to survi...
