It was time for Roshanak to leave her birthplace.

For one last time, she returned to her precious garden. This was the place that her father had created for her out of his deep, affectionate love. The men, like so many of his kind, struggled to express with a smile, but didn't back down from doing something so grand for his child. Now, Roshanak was to flutter away like a butterfly. The flowers of this garden no longer had the honey to feed her. She was now a rare butterfly, elevated from the position of a wild fledgling to a species of queens. She didn't deserve something so little. For her, Persia waited with bated breath.

"Will Persia accept me?"

This garden would cradle memories of her childhood upto this day, having seen the days of her first footsteps, witnessed her bright heartfelt giggles, and her meeting with a certain blond man. The Shah of Persia.

Was this not like a wild dream?

She exhaled. "Remember me. I will return as a bird, seeking to build my nest here."

Her heart sang a ballad to the breeze, her breaths entangling with the fragrance of wildflowers and leaving its foggy imprint everywhere. With her feet on the moist ground, she felt the tears of the earth. The daughter was leaving. The mother would miss her.

Hades had come to snatch Kore away. Demeter couldn't stop.

Roshanak ran her hands over the rough barks and felt the smooth green leaves. Dew drops bounced on their surface, reflecting off the myriad colours of the rays of the sun, splitting it into a rainbow in its small sphere. They shone like crystals on the crown of the fertile Earth. If this place was so divine, how far would the beauty of Persia excel this?

Would it make her feel at home?

"Sometimes, a home must be created. And we women do create several."

Lost in exploring the familiar curves of the garden, she stopped when she heard distant cries. It was mixed with a helpless groan, hinting at deep-rooted disappointment. She manoeuvred through the garden carefully. Hiding behind a bunch of bushes and a thick tree, she watched the Shah and the hazarahpatish conversing on the same rock where she had been on the day of meeting her husband.

The hazarahpatish was sitting on the rock while the Shah knelt in front of him. Hridayank had his face covered. He shook his head, yanking his arm away from the desperate grip of the Shah. The sun beams fell on Hridayank's face like molten gold. His skin glowed like a burning star on the verge of dying. There was the need to show brilliance for one last time before being forgotten by history, as if he were to be smudged forever. Messy curls, consequence of a sleepless night spent tossing and turning on bed, painted him akin to a glorious god crying over his burnt fate. If the Shah was a young boy heading to war, the hazarahpatish resembled the moon. He was manly, but there was a calmness in him like the blue ocean. He could be both the tide and the gentle nudge of the waves.

The Shah clasped his palm and brought it to his lips. Roshanak noticed her husband point at the ring on his left hand, matching it with the one on Hridayank's hand. It stopped the latter's tears. He hiccuped, averting his gaze away from the Shah.

Roshanak's nails dug into the bark of the tree she was bracing. The Shah had denied wearing a ring on his left for he already owned one. The hazarahpatish did too. She had assumed the latter to be a happily married man.

It appeared to be something different.

The Shah rested his head on the hazarahpatish's lap, who ran his fingers through his tousled hair. Few tears trickled down his reddened cheeks still, but he seemed to have calmed down.

Roshanak couldn't hear what they were speaking about. She didn't have to. Watching them interact, she recalled Kazu. If he was alive now, maybe he would have cried like the hazarahpatish, and she would have to assure him of her undying love, tell him that even if she was married to another man, only he remained in her heart.

The Shah's throne wasn't vacant. It was occupied, although by someone no one had expected.

Roshanak watched the love in her husband's eyes from afar, and then slowly left the place, for she didn't belong.

****

After the exchange of gifts were done, Roshanak pulled herself away from the fragile embrace of her mother. She hid behind her friends, masking her tears with a veil. Roshanak didn't let her eyes betray the firmness of her smile. She touched the feet of her father Omkara.

"Gods govern our fates, and Mah has decided for you the path of a queen. Fulfill your destiny, Chosen One." He blessed his daughter.

These were the last words she heard from her parents.

A large copper coloured palanquin was waiting for Roshanak. There was another greenish one that had elaborate carvings inscribed on the walls. Roshanak noticed the hazarahpatish enter the copper one, and Odile occupy the green. Euphemia was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was in her own palanquin with Ochus.

"Join my mother. She will be your companion for the journey," Sikander told.

Roshanak had something else in her mind. She had to take the chance. Mustering up the courage, she shook her head. "Forgive me, Shah."

Sikander's forehead creased. "Why?"

"I have interacted with your close, loved ones, and I have felt that the hazarahpatish is a kind and truthful man. I would appreciate his company. Since the journey will be long and this stage of life is something new to me, I wish to know more about Persia from a man who has seen it as much as the Shah. Although, if it would be rebellious to sit with a man who isn't my husband, I would gladly accept what the Shah has decided for me."

"What do you think?" Sikander answered with another question. The corner of his lips was raised in amusement. "Do you think I will doubt you if you spend time with the hazarahpatish?"

"It is definitely in bad taste, although I assure there's no vice in my heart."

"Then as the beginning of a solid foundation, I allow myself to trust you. As you wish, Roshanak. You will accompany Hridayank, and let him enlighten you about my world." Sikander heaved a sigh, his ruddy cheeks turning a shade deeper. "He has seen it most intimately."

Roshanak won.

When she entered the copper palanquin, the face of the hazarahpatish was one to behold. Sikander peered inside. "She will be with you. Keep her engaged."

Hridayank's jaw hung open. He looked between the two, feeling utterly lost when Sikander left. Roshanak cleared her throat. "Pardon me for being a disturbance."

"Why did the Shahamsaram not go with the Kandake?" His voice was louder than he intended it to be.

"Shahamsaram, using the power that has been assigned to her along with the title, chose her own guide."

Hridayank's eyes glinted like fireflies. "I see. The Kandake."

Roshanak blushed. "I-I am lonely, hazarahpatish." She pursed her lips. "I know it's maybe a wrong thing to sit with you, a man who isn't my husband, but after talking with all, I felt you will be a good company. I haven't yet grown on the Kandake, and neither you, but my heart says you will be a better help at present."

Hridayank crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to continue.

Roshanak rubbed her temple. "You know about my feelings, hazarahpatish." And I might know yours too. "I have, fortunately or unfortunately, opened up to you. I choose to trust you. Whether you will respect that or not, is your wish."

"No way am I going to hurt such a beautiful Shahamsaram. The gods will be furious." He chuckled. "We can be friends. After all, strong people should be together."

Roshanak's distant, aracne gaze made Hridayank wonder if the choice of his words were indeed astute. The princess, now a queen, seemed to reconsider the fact that she could be strong. He had meant it in a very casual fashion, and now he too thought over it. Was she really strong like them, or a wilting Lilly? He found women to be capable of going through a lot, somewhat because that's how the rules were made. Their strength lay in the awareness of their perceived inferiority.

A zephyr played with the curtains that separated them from the outer world. It swiftly toyed with the tresses of Roshanak. She pulled her veil closer. "I wish to be on good terms with you."

"A Shahamsaram mustn't bow. If you command, I will listen. And if I don't, turn your back to me. You shouldn't be depended on another."

Hridayank's words made himself ashamed. He didn't follow the advice he gave to others. He too, relied upon another man. His existence was barren without the Shah.

In front of him was the woman, whom he should have been so perturbed about. Roshanak deserved his jealousy, his anger and disdain. Alas, he found himself unwilling to burden her with the stinging pain. Somewhere in his heart he realised she wasn't to be blamed for whatever was happening.

"You will slowly understand the Kandake. She isn't a woman one can easily befriend. It took me time too to get to know her."

Roshanak swallowed. "She is tough. And confusing. She insults me and then protects me the very next moment."

"Just what you should expect from her. It's so obvious that I am not shocked at all." Hridayank shrugged. "The Kandake has her own tumultuous past. I can tell you her story, but you must promise to not impart this knowledge to anyone."

"I promise."

"Very well." He nodded. "She is the first wife of Philip, the Shah's late father. Their marriage was a political one," just like yours, I hope, "but they lusted for each other. The violent passion led to a very celebrated match. Alas, Philip was a very volatile character and Odile unlike any woman."

Roshanak was keen on knowing why Odile was considered different.

"Philip, like many noblemen of his time, engaged in other relations. It fuelled the jealousy of Odile. Instead of being accepting of the norms, she unleashed her wrath upon Philip. A crack appeared in the marriage. Also, she is a very ambitious soul, often putting her nose between affairs where she shouldn't be. Constantly clashing with eminent men and factions, she irked many.

"Philip then married Euphemia. She was a meek woman and way younger to him. He started spending more time with her, and within a year of their marriage was born Ochus. Men of the court mocked Odile. The disrespect became so bitter that they started calling Sikander an illegitimate child."

Roshanak put a hand over her mouth.

"Of course, Odile was hurt and Sikdaner too. Philip could do nothing to reverse the strain in the relationship. Alas, when Ochus turned one, Philip died." Hridayank's sweaty hands and deadly cold eyes occluded a sensitive truth. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Odile was stubborn on the decision to kill both Euphemia and Ochus, but her son intervened. Poor Euphemia and her child were saved."

Roshanak didn't find it impossible to put herself in Odile's shoes, who was saddened by the fact that her husband gave away pieces of his body and heart to people who weren't her, and even failed at suppressing rumours of her infidelity. Any wife would be insane. Odile's fault was that she showed her frustration, revealed her feelings. Maybe she truly loved Philip and that was why she was envious.

"I think," Hridayank continued half-heartedly, "as a woman, you will relate."

Roshanak saw the ghost of guilt pass over his face. She feigned to not have caught the presence of the broken spirit. "I will pass no judgement. But know my heart softens for the Kandake. She was wronged."

"Perhaps she should have been more cautious and submissive. Again, that's a perspective. Although I wish to make it clear that I do not support Philip questioning the legitimacy of her character. Odile may be a mad woman in the perspective of many, but she isn't a whore. She is unsullied in terms of her loyalty towards Philip."

It was crystal clear to Roshanak why Odile behaved with her the way she did. On one hand her mother-in-law was subjecting her to go through the same torture that she had herself, and on the other hand Odile's heart reverberated with a sense of shared agony. It was why she had cut her thumb, or else she really didn't have to. If Odile genuinely wanted to harm Roshanak, the incident about her not bleeding could be used as a perfect weapon. Something told Roshanak that it was hard to melt Odile, but not impossible.

"She is very protective about her son," Hridayank added. "She has fought to safeguard his position of a heir all her life."

Now, it would be Roshanak's duty to provide Sikander with an heir. The kingdom required a son. That meant, they would have to come closer again in the future. Drink wine again to numb the senses. Unless her wedding night's activity did bear a fruit.

Roshanak knew she was here to govern as a queen, be a good wife, and give birth to healthy sons. The more, the better. She was here to build a family and reside over as the mother of an immense nation.

Her dreams had broken and the shards led the way to a future she never imagined. Roshanak was determined to survive, if not live.

****

word count: 2315 words
Total word count: 15,205 words

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