The Mosquito and the Lion

five

Alia felt ill. The air in the throne room was stifling, like a weight had been placed on her chest before she was thrown out to sea. She could feel her lungs fill with water, yet taking a cleansing breath was impossible.

She did not know if she was suffocating or drowning.

The Queen had not uttered a single word nor moved from her perch at the throne, a remarkable work of art. Instead of traditional arms, the smith had carved tigers into the stonework. The back of the chair extended high above the Queen. Nestled underneath the golden arch was the Maurya crest, the lotus flower in full bloom.

Alia trained her gaze at the floor, her thick and coarse hair masking her face. It was unclear if the bow was out of respect or fear. Her bones seemed to pulse underneath her skin, begging her to leave this place and return home. But the words of that cook echoed through her mind.

You cannot be helped if you throw away your chances.

Swallowing tightly, she dared to look up at her Queen — at her mother. Like a child, she searched desperately for any similarities. But where the Queen's tresses were a silken brown with streaks of grey, Alia's were as black as coal. The Queen's face was angular and sharp, with protruding cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and thin lips. Alia's features were softer in comparison, with a sloping ridge down her nose, wide eyes, and fuller lips.

They looked nothing alike.

The Queen leaned forward, studying her carefully. Finally, after what felt like hours, she stood from her throne. "Come with me," she ordered. The General made a move to accompany them, but the Queen raised her hand. "Alone."

The General eyed Alia warily, her spear clutched tightly in one hand. Her distrust was eminently clear, but she could say nothing in front of the Queen.

Alia could get used to that.

She followed the Queen, maintaining a distance of a few steps. Alia had expected her to say something, anything, but instead they walked in silence.

As they walked through the Magad Palace, Alia was overwhelmed by the obscene display of wealth and good fortune. Elaborate murals covered the ceilings, telling the long and storied history of Maurya. Carved gold sconces illuminated the hallway, casting shadows on the soldiers who lined the walls. Each bore the signature string of blue beads around their upper arms.

Yet, something about the palace was unnerving. A strange silence permeated the air. And though there were plenty of guards, she could spot no nobles or servants. On closer inspection, she could see dust settling atop the sconces, and her sandals slapped against the velvet rug, worn thin over years of use.

Alia gaped in wonder as the Queen led them into a courtyard. At the center of the square was a water feature sculpted out of black marble. It looked as though the top half of a genie lamp had been sawed off, with water bubbling up the center of the fountain, lazily streaming down a thin strip of marble and then tipping over the spout into a crystal clear pond.

"Sit with me," the Queen said softly, patting the seat next to her on the rim of the pond.

Hesitantly, Alia sat down, smiling as she watched the bright orange catfish swim to and fro their enclosure. She supposed the fish seemed happy, but they did not know any better. How could they imagine the depths of oceans?

"Was your journey pleasant?"

Alia trailed her fingers through the pond, the cool water a welcome respite from the unbearable heat. The smell of algae and the earth filled her senses and calmed her head.

"We ran into some trouble on the road, but we managed." Alia did not know to respond. Her heart hammered so loudly that she could barely hear herself think. Formulating sounds and sentences felt far beyond her capabilities.