Roshanak had never seen a chariot so golden and grand. If someone was deserving of riding the vehicle, it was the sun god Mitra. Even if not a god, perhaps the Shah believed in his holy birth like many kings, and so had chosen such an extravagant chariot for them to be in while greeting the crowd of Persia.

It was going to be her first appearance as the Shahamsaram. She heard the servants and the soldiers gossip about the bubbling excitement of the crowd. According to them, the crowd was on the brink of transforming into an uncontrollable mob. Someone by the name of Craterus, as she caught from the conversation, advised the Shah to delay the public visit. The Shah declined the idea, and sent his hazarahpatish to settle the agitated crowd. Roshanak, from behind the translucent curtains, watched envy dance in the old eyes of Craterus.

The Shah came to her once, inquiring about her health and comfort. He was adamant on knowing about her favourite fruits and dishes. She was reluctant to share, thinking it would be improper, but he insisted so much that she shared– roasted fish with spices drizzled over it, peaches and sugarcane. The Shah said with a pleased look that the fish was also a favourite of the hazarahpatish. A skinny servant later came to Roshanak and informed her that the Shah had ordered for the best peaches and the freshest sugarcane from the fields to be brought for his queen. The servants laughed merrily and called it true love.

Roshanak, even if wary of accepting, found herself admiring the little efforts of the Shah. Now when she looked back at her wedding night, he was very polite and caring. Any other man in his position could have dominated over her body in ways hideous. Perhaps the Shah was equally stuck as her, although his problems weren't visible on the surface. He was a Shah, after all, and would know how to keep things a secret.

Still, she was the Shahamsaram and had the right to know everything.

But again, in that sense, the Shah has the right to know about Kazu. Roshanak was being no different to him. They were both navigating through the complexities of life.

Not long after, she was summoned. The crowd had been subdued and the chariot was ready to be drawn by three snowy white horses. Extending his hand, the Shah said, "Come up, Roshanak. Persia is so eager to meet you."

Being hand-in-hand with the Shah felt different. There was no love, but there was no discomfort either. Instead, she felt her stomach churn in a way that caused her to avert her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed. She exhaled and relaxed when he let go of her.

"Come up."

For a moment Roshanak imagined him inviting his other wife, but his words were directed at Hridayank. The latter stiffened. "Me?"

"Yes?" The Shah was utterly confused.

"But Sikan–" Hridayank bit his lips. "But Shah, I thought I will go on a horse this time. I am not supposed to be–"

"Just shut up." Sikander rolled his eyes. "The hazarahpatish must accompany the Shah. This is usual. What happened to you suddenly?"

Hridayank clenched his fist. The Shah very well knew what this was, and yet feigned to be ignorant. "Do I need to come?"

This time, Sikander's voice had an edge. "It's an order."

Hridayank protested no further. Swallowing his hesitation, he climbed the carriage and stood on the right of the Shah.

"You shouldn't be raising a doubt against the decision of the Shah. Such audacity is not expected from the hazarahpatish," Sikander scolded.

"I am sorry, my Shah. I will be more thoughtful and disciplined."

"Better."

Roshanak could feel the palpable tension lingering around them. It affected her too. She felt ashamed of looking at the hazarahpatish, and turned her head away. Her eyes fell on three men, probably eminent generals of the Shah. They regarded her with unmasked contempt and whispered amongst themselves. Roshanak decided to just stare at the floor of the chariot.

Their focused gazes made Roshanak wince, as if they were intending to make her feel uneasy. Neither the Shah nor the hazarahpatish addressed the issue. Maybe they hadn't noticed, or maybe they didn't care.

The charioteer came and they started their journey. When they entered the main heart of the land, a deluge of men and women flung up their hands in the air, as if surrendering to the mercy of the Lord above. They screamed the glory of the Shah and spelled his name like a chant. She saw the common folk gasp upon beholding her face. To them, she was a symbol of fortune. The humble inhabitants of Persia, like the people from any corner of the world, were inclined towards looking up at someone as the rightful heir of God. In this place and time, Roshanak was the wife of their God. The men and women stretched their hands and tried to touch them. It was a silly idea, for there was a huge distance between the folk and the royals. Guards lined up stopped the crowd from breaking on the march.

Flanking the chariot on both sides were soldiers of the Shah, who threw coins at the crowd and provided extra protection. Among them were those three generals whom Roshanak had seen earlier. They didn't care to give her attention now, their concentration solely on ensuring no one was daring to harm the Shah. Indeed, anyone who was an enemy of the noble family could plan to attack the Shah now. He had exposed himself to many possible dangers in order to show his presence.

"Look, Roshanak, they admire you," the Shah said. "Strive to be an inspiration, so that in every home mothers tell their daughters the story of Shahamsaram Roshanak with pride."

She didn't know if she was worthy of being a legend. She would definitely work for the welfare of the mass, but it was completely up to them whether they would loathe her or love her.

"It must be your first time with such a huge crowd."

"Yes, Shah." Roshanak nodded. "They all treat us like we are not humans but descendants of gods."

"Kings like to think of themselves in that way," Hridayank interjected. His words were hollow and cold, clammy hands holding onto the chariot's sides so fiercely that his knuckles turned white. "It is good for their reputation."

"I would like to see myself as a hero rather than a god. As I say, the gods will always be envious of their greatest creation– us humans. Knowing that they crave to be us, I am no fool to desire their ugly throne."

Hridayank's words, as Roshanak understood, were meant to ridicule the Shah, who answered the taunt as politely as possible. A deep frown carved wrinkles upon his wide forehead while Hridayank hid his displeasure well behind a stoic expression.

"I am not sure what I am," Roshanak said. "I am also not sure what I will be. But we all start somewhere."

"Learn to dream big, Roshanak," Hridayank said. "You are a queen. Even if you do not wish, you must execute grandiose plans."

"Why, Hridayank, your roots are as commonplace as hers, and you do not seek such a pretentious lifestyle? Why do you then advise her to implement such thoughts?"

"She is a queen, my Shah. I am not. I am a man, bound to the bare minimum of luxuries. You have only taught me to be chary of indulging in women and wealth."

The Shah and the hazarahpatish began a battle where their gazes clashed. There was a wistful longing in the eyes of Hridayank when he refused to glance any longer while Sikander's nostrils fumed.

"You should be more cautious. Speak carefully, knowing where you are and with whom," Sikander said.

"I am aware."

"It seems to me that wisdom has taken a break from your life. Where did it go? Back to Macedonia?"

"Ah, certainly not, my Shah. I guess I left it at the palace."

"Then when we reach the palace, make sure your first task is to go to your room and collect your intelligence. You are in dire need of some." Sikander blew a breath. "You are proving yourself to be an incapable hazarahpatish at this moment, and I do not want such an impression to be made."

"The hazarahpatish must be tired, my Shah. And I do not think he said anything to belittle you. His views are entirely general," Roshanak intervened, knowing very well that she had the power to either put this argument to rest or let it wreak havoc. "He is true– a queen needs to act in a certain way. I will try to be what the society expects of me."

Sikander narrowed his eyes. "You are defending him?"

Roshanak lowered her head. "Forgive me for my impudence, Shah."

He scoffed. "I think I should have left both of you in some other chariot."

"Behave yourself, Sikdaner," Hridayank hissed, seething with rage. "Don't pour the anger you have towards me on her. She is your wife, a new member of the family, and I don't think you need to talk like this with her in public."

Sikander leaned in and grabbed him by the hand. "Moments ago, weren't you the one behaving insolently?" he whispered, the following conversation carried out in hushed tones.

"I am not the Shah, so I can be permitted to lose my cool sometimes."

"I thought you were not very different from me, hazarahpatish."

Hridayank's lips puckered. "Alas, I am not different from you." His voice was shaky. "But you are different from me."

Sikander breathed against his face, terribly close to him. Hridayank gently pulled himself away. "We can end this for now, Shah. I apologise for any mistake done."

Hridayank wiped his tears as carefully as possible to make the ones around him think he was troubled by the dust that flew, but he saw Roshanak stare at him.

He hoped she didn't know his forbidden truth. That would be the most disgraceful thing in the world.

word count: 1703 words

There's a lot of tension, yes. I was pretty tired today, yeah, but ended up writing. I find it's easier for me to write when I don't think I will have to. I started with the thought that I would rest after jotting down a few words, but then it flowed too well and a chapter was ready.

We will soon be meeting all three of those generals. One of them is Craterus. They are taken from history, although the storyline will not have any similarity with history. What I write is inspired from my own theories and understanding of the characters(the latter more– it's like I am doing an alternate universe thingy with the characters having the same nature and mannerisms)

How do you like the story so far? What is pulling you in?