The Imperial Dynasty

c h a p t e r 5

''What on this earth do you think you're doing?'' Elhaida's father started.

''Abi, just calm yourself. I assure you that I am fine,'' His daughter spoke. The king was beyond the term overprotective: Elhaida considers the very word as an understatement. She knew the lengths her father would go to in order to perceive who the true suspect is that threatened his daughter's life, and to be true to herself, she was happy about that. As much as she denies assistance in most forms, she does feel grateful for the king's care. 

''No. You almost died. I am not risking that again. You stay put in your room!'' His voice breaks slightly as he tries to hold on to himself. The way he was telling his child to go to her room was an immensely strange thing to do for a grown woman, but he wasn't in his pragmatic senses. The terror that his blood, his kin could come into harm was the only thing on his mind.

''Abi. Abi. If the traitor, whoever it is, sees that this is the way we react to an issue, that will make us an even more easy target. Please.'' The younger woman proclaims, her voice steady. Elhaida's head pounded from the thoughts that were significant in her head. She did not wish to be a hardship on her parents but this was not making the achievement of that easy on her. There were already enough burdens placed on the rulers of the Eastern Empire, and their daughter being constantly hunted to her doom did not need to be included in that list. The princess vowed to herself that she be more alert (though she was already a skeptical being to begin with) and bring herself to the further realisation that this world was filled with more lurking monsters than a human brain could comprehend. Elhaida always thought of the concept of hell and heaven, and she did believe in it, though a certain doubt would play in her mind: hell must surely be empty because from her experience, all the devils resided here. 

Hasan purses his lips together before sighing in defeat. This was the habit his wife had always scolded him for. He just could not say the simple two letters of rejection, being 'no', to his daughter. 

''Alright, my sweetness. I will take your word for it. I am more than sure that you can handle yourself but just..'' He paused there and pinched the bridge of his nose. ''Just take care of yourself. Even this castle, our own home, isn't safe for you anymore. I'm so sorry, my daughter. I just wish for you to be safe.'' His eyes welling with clear liquid tears. 

Elhaida's resting serious face contorted into one of sorrow, clenching her jaw to prevent herself from letting the floods of her soul spill out from her eyes, just as her father was doing. Someone had to stay adamantly strong here, and in this case, it was the princess' job. She embraced the king and he returned the bone-crushing gesture, squeezing her arms as a soothing motion. 

After Hasan felt satisfied in the embrace of his daughter, he let go, giving her a subtle nod. The veiled woman in front of him smiled, before letting her feet trace the softly swirled design of the marble floor. She gave out a deep breath, before treading into the hall which was to hold her matrimonial ceremony. It was only a few days from now. It was an unconceivable fact to her. When she thought of marriage as a young girl, the fairy tales her mother had read to her spun in her head and she imagined scenarios of a beautiful, kind man whom she would cherish. Nowhere in that long-term plan was the idea that she would be betrothed to the only man she wanted to brutally murder.

 No matter her denial to this, she knew that she had no other choice but to accept her demeaning fate, because more than love mattered, success did. Success and triumph. This would be a certainly controversial thought in the eyes of others but she was inattentive to to such opinions. Love was such an emotion, a tender feeling, that all sensible thought would disappear, affection and zeal being the replacement. Her idealism only lead to disappointment, so relying on actuality was the only process she truly trusted. 

People would frankly only fail you. It hurts to love and it hurts to heal. Allah only knows the kind of scars inflicted deep into your flesh after such pain, and that is not something anyone should afford to be put through. The experience and avoidance only makes it worse, a dwelling for the darkness. That being is the sting when you drop into the same hole twice. That is why she feels pride at her lack of vulnerability.

Pushing open the massive burgundy doors of the great hall, a wave of sound erupts from inside it, as if a zoo has just been let out from it's apparent shackles. Workers rushing inside the hall, poking moderations here and there. 

The hall itself was a magnificent view. Black ornaments enlightened corners of the room, a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling: a sight like the illuminating sun had been snatched from the sky and placed right here, in the heart of her home. A few sculptures were designed near the exit door. Made of white clay, a man and a woman in a performative embrace was the most eye-catching. A tapestry of midnight colours was hung behind that sculpture, accentuating the purity of the pearl-white clay. True effort was put into this, the princess could tell and she gazed around in admiration. Her eyes squinted when they caught sight of a glint on the statue in the middle of the room. She carefully treads forward to see that both the man and the woman had gold paint dripping out of their eyes, most likely to show the phrase 'tears of gold' literally. The precision to detail made her smile. Though she thought to herself, no person is worth our tears.