Queen of Persia ✔️

chapter two

part one: dusk

To Shah Arman, this ceremony was nothing but another slaughter. Another death. Another innocent girl was murdered for no reason. Sometimes Arman had thoughts about their deaths. How does one feel when they die? How do their families feel? Do they feel free? However, he never had an answer in hand. Sometimes he questioned if their deaths were destined by a curse. But once again, he had no answer in hand.

Just like his other brides, Parisa was dressed in a special silk gown. But unlike the other brides, she wasn't smiling or crying at the sight of him. She was calm and silent. A deadly weapon she was. When Arman was younger, he was taught that silence is the best weapon a man can carry. Silence is the answer to all problems, and it was true. The silence created a fear of the unknown, which could be used as an advantage. As leverage.

Not once did Parisa look at him in the eyes when she entered the room, but once she stood in front of him, her eyes darted at his. Her expression was still stiff. Her eyes were wide and fox shaped. He could get lost in those caramel drizzled eyes for a lifetime, but he knew eyes can be deceiving. When Arman looked away, he noticed Parisa let out her breath. He realised she had held it in for too long. Maybe she was intimidated after all. She was wearing the pearl necklace he had picked out for her. She looked stunning wearing them. Her brunette hair had been braided perfectly around her head. There was no question or denial about Parisa's beauty. Now the whole kingdom knew about her beauty, but she too would die soon.

As the ceremony came towards the end, Arman walked out leaving the room to attend to other things. Unlike the other brides, Parisa didn't feel annoyed or shocked when Arman left. She stood there with the exact same expression she had held the whole time. There was no hint of fear in her eyes. It was almost as if she wasn't afraid of Arman. It was almost as if she knew him too well. As if she knew his alarming eyes from the heart. But she didn't. No one did. Her expression and intelligence were quite refreshing to Arman, even though she wasn't going to live past dawn.

As Arman left the room, all the Vasirs and high-ranked merchants bowed down to him. He quite enjoyed the feeling of power. He loved it when people feared him. When people knew not to mess with him. It somehow filled the empty spot in his heart. It was surprising he even had one. But it never satisfied his heart. His heart longed for warmth. It longed for love and kindness. Feelings he had never felt as a child. As he walked through the corridors, he felt a shadow trailing him from behind. He suddenly stopped to allow the shadow to speed up and catch up to him.

"Shah," the man behind him spoke. Arman slowly turned around to see his Vasir standing in front of him. "Parisa went to her chambers, sarvaram," he spoke again, addressing Arman as his highness.

"Very well Jahandar," Shah Arman replied, "Even though she isn't going to live long enough, I would like you to respect her title. You shouldn't be calling her by her first name, Jahandar. You know better than this," he explained to Vasir Jahandar. Jahandar slowly nodded in agreement.

"Forgive me, brother," he apologised. Many believed that Jahandar and Arman were cousins. But many were wrong. Jahandar was Arman's only good childhood memory. He was a friend. A companion. A brother to Arman. And so, they believed to be brothers too.

"Any news on the war?" Arman asked in return. Jahandar quickly shook his head continuously in response. It had been almost months since the war started. It raged on with no stop, no peace and no quiet.

Deaths.

Deaths.

And deaths.

That's the only thing this war created. Lives lost to almost nothing. But in the end, whoever was to win the war would win the world.

"Although a few newly drafted troops have escaped, we only know a few of their identities," Jahandar alerted Arman. Arman's attention turned to the things Jahandar was saying. Everyone knew that Arman was a merciless man. If he was to find those newly drafted soldiers, he would show them everything but mercy. He hated betrayal and lies. But he appreciated honesty and loyalty.

"Find them and bring them to the castle. I have a plan for them," Arman requested. His face had a smug smile and an evil frown. A scheming face. Jahandar knew that he had an unpleasant plan in mind. A plan to torture those men until they understood the betrayal they had committed.

"Yes sarvaram," Jahandar obeyed. He then slowly walked away to start his search. Jahandar was the best at his job. It was almost as he himself was a compass. He had the skill to find anyone anywhere in the world. And that was why he was the war planner. A true intelligent man. But no man in this castle knew how to win and stop this war. Because men never lasted longer than dusk and that itself was frightening. Only a woman would know how to stop this war.