The last time Shahrazad had seen Zaman was when the latter was a tender eight. Shahrazad expected that he either was still the same or his qualities had amplified.

A blood-red carpet was rolled from the entrance to the grand hall till the gilded chair where the Shah was to sit. The servants, on the instructions of Parmenion, had decorated the place with irises. Each corner smelled like a garden. Shahrazad put a hand on his chest, pleasantly surprised to find that Parmenion was so considerate.

Maybe I should have guessed, he thought. A favourite.

Shahrazad clutched the pendant close to his heart, twisting and twirling the chain as his brows curved and lines appeared on his forehead. A pain he was so ashamed of accepting as his own plagued him. Do I want to be the favourite of this man? No. Never. Don't lure me in there, you devil!

It was chaos and confusion that consumed him. He didn't yield to them, flailing on their watery surface like a bird refusing to be drowned by the tendrils of ugly secrets. Now, he had to worry about his beloved Shahryar and his lovely sister.

From what his dreams had told him and the stories that spread like fire across the lands, Zaman had not visited this kingdom even once after the coronation of Shahryar. So what could be the reason behind this sudden visit? To Shahrazad it could be as simple as marriage or as crooked as a next stroke in a canvas of plots.

Chalices of copper and plates of silver were brought, filled with sweet wine and delicacies. The hazahrapatish himself arranged some of them. Shahrazad went and stood beside him. "I heard the Shah's brother is coming?"

"Yes. Revered Shah Zaman, the second child of late Shah Damun."

"He loves irises a lot it seems."

"Yes, and he loves sweet food sprinkled with syrup."

He must also have a very sweet tongue like me.

All the food, again, were tasted by Parmenion. Unlike the other days today he wore a relaxed demeanor.

"Oh! There they come! See, the doors open." The hazahrapatish ran towards them.

Shahrazad braced himself for what was to come. The doors to the hall parted to reveal the two brothers. And what a contrast it was to behold.

Shahryar's cheeks had sunken though his eyes had a soft, fragile glow to them. He wore white, like peace personified, bordered in the golden of divinity. On the other hand, Zaman donned the shade of obsidian like a new moon night. Rubies studded on his coat glimmered in the light of the chandelier.

Shahryar had been the one speaking to him all the while. Zaman, quiet as a dead man, kept listening with a placid smile. He kept his head lowered, and only when he reached the little round table did he raise his eyes. His gaze roved around the hall. He smiled when he found the irises and the plethora of dishes on the table. And then when he looked up from the sugary berries and pies, his eyes fell on Shahrazad. Zaman cocked his head to the side, beady dark eyes pinned on the royal consort. Shahryar, having felt that his brother was unable to identify this unknown man, walked towards Shahrazad and wrapped an arm around his waist, firmly pressing on his polished side. "This is my husband, Shahrazad. He is the foster son of Bagaos."

Shahrazad had not expected his beloved to be so bold. He stole a stare with a blush where Shahryar had placed his hand. Heat accumulated there, warming and tingling him. It caused him to entwine his fingers and lean a little towards his Shahryar. "Glad to meet his brother."

Shah Zaman bowed in return. "I was so eager to meet you, Shahryar, and more than that Shahrazad. I hope you don't mind if I call you by name, royal consort? You can call me Zaman, if you wish."

"That will be very comfortable."

"Indeed. It should be."

After ripping each other apart with a piercing stare, the two men took their seat. Shahryar too sat down. "Come on, you start Zaman," Shahryar said. "Your sweet tooth intensified!"

"I am afraid too much of sweet will make me bitter." He seemed to lament. "But my taste buds have been conquered."

"Sweet can never be too much." Shahryar shrugged.

Zaman licked the cream off a baked flatbread. "So you have got an appetite now? You didn't particularly enjoy eating earlier."

"Oh, he loves to eat. He has changed," Shahrazad said, interrupting the men. "It's been quite some time for you two, so perhaps you missed on the developments."

Shahrazad batted his eyelashes like an innocent young lad. Zaman smirked. "I usually don't miss on the important things, but maybe I missed this."

Shahrazad nodded. He had got his answer. And the fact that Zaman did answer meant he was confident of his power.

"I am so very happy brother, for you," Zaman said, sipping wine with closed eyes. Shahryar ceased to tear the flatbread. His fingers froze and he gulped. Shahrazad wanted to extend his hand and caress his thigh, but he wasn't able to give that relaxation to his beloved as the chairs were a little too far apart.

"I try to be happy. But after whatever has happened, it feels very scary to be happy."

"I understand. Yet you need to see the gold hidden in the craters. Happiness isn't just knocking on your door." Zaman shifted his gaze to Shahrazad, "it is now trying to be a part of you."

"I pray everything be joyous in his life," Shahrazad said.

"Our life, Shahrazad," Shahryar corrected, raising his chalice in the air. The three men clanked them in a gala mood.

"I was excited to meet you, Shahryar. After so much time. It feels like an entire birth, and so much has transformed since then. I felt pity on hearing you suffer from a curse. Alas, I couldn't come to meet you. I had my own obligations and a land to govern."

"It-it is alright," Shahryar stammered. "I-I don't mind."

"Oh but I do!" Zaman shouted, banging his fist on the table. His airy black curls bounced. Shahryar flinched while Shahrazad's pupils enlarged.

"I can't forgive myself for not being beside you." Zaman continued. "I am a bad brother, am I not?" His eyes glinted like two foreign gems had been put in the vacant sockets.

"But life must go on. You have your duties. You cannot ignore them."

"Indeed, my duties, my dreams and ambitions. My promises. I need to fulfill them."

Shahryar didn't understand what his brother was speaking. He blamed it on wine and didn't press him further.
Shahrazad was, though, of a different opinion.

"Promise made to whom, Zaman?"

Zaman clenched his jaw, his head shaking in suppressed wrath. His pallid, fathomless gaze wilted. "To Father. To Great Damun."

"Ah, yes. That you should protect your brother," Shahrazad completed.

"Indeed. I should protect."

Zaman chugged down a full chalice of the inebriated liquid. "And I failed. I couldn't be beside him. I failed as a brother. I failed the man who shared the same womb that I was in once."

"Don't berate yourself, Zaman," Shahryar whispered. "We are here to not cry over the past but wish for a better future. We stand on solid ground and it should never quake."

Zaman beamed, showing his sharp pointed canines. "I was elated when I heard that the curse was getting nullified. That a spouse finally lived. Though, I am a bit worried."

"About what, brother?"

"He is man. Not a woman. He won't be able to provide you a heir."

Shahrazad almost choked on the wine. He grasped his cloak tighter.

"I don't worry about it," Shahryar said.

"It is very careless of you, brother."

"Why, won't you marry? Your kids will take ahead this dynasty. We belong to the same family, Zaman."

"If the Shah gives permission, we can even adopt."

"Equally good!" Shahryar said. "Who knows, there might be a Shah playing in the dirty streets, with a wooden sword and a shield of animal skin. And you will be able to take care of them as good as a mother. You are very caring, I know." Shahryar took a piece of meatball from Shahrazad's plate. "And you know how to make someone feel belonged."

Shahrazad's breath got stuck. He wheezed. Calming his heart, he replied, "Thank you, and I want the Shah to practice the same."

"Did you just prick me?"

"I might have. But let's put some balm on your wound– you are improving."

"Well, that's good news I guess."

Zaman smiled for a fraction of time. "I think I am done. I will retire to my room."

"Will you stay for some days?"

"I am sorry brother, I need to set off tonight only. I have some coins to mint."

"Alright. Shahrazad, can you please show him his room?"

"Of course."

Parmenion had slightly bent forward his body and lifted his feet too, but was stopped by a gesture of Zaman. Zaman followed Shahrazad outside the hall. After the distance between them and the hall increased to a fair roof, Zaman decided to speak. "You are the foster son of Bagaos?"

"Yes."

"Do you know anything about your biological parents?"

"My mother was a dancer. I don't know who my father is."

"Oh." Zaman swallowed a grin. "Must be very painful, to not know the identity of a Father. It promotes a feeling of being lost."

"I do have a Father. I would never wish to meet my real one, except some desperate circumstances. It shall be against my principles."

Zaman blowed through his mouth an exasperated sigh.

The rest of the way they remained silent. Shahryar showed him his room and asked the guards to be vigilant and always be ready to answer the call of the special guest.

"You know, Shahrazad, you remind me of two people. Especially your eyes."

Shahrazad chuckled. "May I know who they are?"

"First, a dancer named Farah. She was a friend of your foster father, unfortunately found killed some years ago. And second, a nameless boy."

Shahrazad scratched his chin. "Farah, what a nice name. The embodiment of happiness and merriment itself."

"She was a very lively soul, I heard. Though that was long back, maybe before my birth? With years she became dull, and her life became dreary."

"I hope she gets liberation."

"Perhaps you have an idea about the boy?" Zaman narrowed his eyes.

Shahrazad's wings were clipped too harsh. He towered above the man, hands itching to hit and punch. "I can never have an idea about some boy who didn't own a name."

"Ah, it came a little rude." Zaman clicked his tongue. "Maybe because the boy didn't have a true father. That was why he was nameless."

The bluish-green veins on Shahrazad's palms were suddenly visible, as if trying to shred the skin and bleed open. "Even the nameless ones get a name after some time. They earn it. I hope this nameless boy has got his."

"We can only pray."

Zaman shut the door to his room. Shahrazad rubbed his aching chest, eyes dripping with agony.

****

Zaman rode on his grand elephant. Shahryar sent a part of his infantry with Zaman for ensuring a safe travel.

"Come back some other time, brother. I will miss you."

"I will come one day."

"Have a happy journey."

The Shah bid his brother goodbye, watching the retinue vanish in the horizon. Heaving a sigh, he went back to his room. Shahrazad followed him too, but then one guard from the two appointed outside Zaman's room came to him.

"The prince asked me to give this to you."

It was a box of ivory. Shahrazad took it. He let Shahryar go ahead and waited behind to open the box. Finding a secluded place, he opened the lid.

The sight left Shahrazad on the verge of puking.

Inside were a bloodied finger, now decomposing to bones, and a pair of broken anklets. A note was also there. With quivering fingers he read it:

The remnants of Farah, fiercely guarded by my most trusted all this long. In this very palace. Now, they belong to you by birthright.

Shahrazad screamed like an eagle struck to death.