Rajah's Curse

Chapter 47: His Test

I stared at the sultan. A quiet disbelieving rage grew inside me. The man's words were still echoing in my head:

I still have no idea how she even tolerates you

Tolerate me indeed! What utter nonsense! She did far more than tolerate me. Jasmine and I had been friends for half a decade! She wanted to marry me because she was in love with me.

He knew that! The damn fool was just trying to provoke me.

And he had! I was thoroughly provoked, but I was not playing his games anymore! The time for careful maneuvering and diplomatic discourse was over.

I did not bother to mask my ire as I said, "Sultan Hamed, what is it that you really want from me?" It was past time we got to the point of today's test.

The sultan's expression shifted and he looked at me like I was the dumbest animal imaginable. "I thought that was obvious. I want the truth, boy."

I returned his scorn right back. "I already gave you the truth," you inconsiderate despot! "Twice."

"You call that the truth?" The sultan sneered. "You must think me a complete nincompoop."

In times such as these, yes, I very much did. However, unlike him, I wasn't a total idiot, so I began, "I don't be-"

But the sultan didn't let me finish. "You may fool my court, boy, but that's because they've never seen you when you're actually happy. Well, I have. I know you were moping about in your office before I dragged you out here today and yesterday, all you wanted to do was to stay at dinner and go to bed on time."

What? "That's not-"

He still wasn't done. "So don't tell me, you're content with your lot just because you're a prince. No one is ever content with their lot. Discontentment is the fuel of life!"

By the end of this little speech, the sultan was gesturing wildly and stomping his foot. He was furious and I realized... "Are you worried about me?"

"Of course, I'm worried about you!" he snapped, "The man my daughter claims to be in love with can't even answer a simple question!"

"I..." I registered this new insult, but my own anger refused to be roused any further.

The sultan was glowering at me. The look in his eyes reminded me of Jasmine. In fact, this whole outing reminded me of something the princess would do. With that thought, things began to slide into place. "Your highness," I began again. "I think I ought to apologize."

"Don't bother," the sultan said peevishly, "Liars are never truly sorry."

I tried not to bristle at this additional and unsubstantiated slight. "I am not lying," I said carefully, "I just did not realize you were trying to cheer me up."

"Cheer you up!" the man puffed up and blustered, "Of all the...No! I'm not trying to cheer you up! I'm here in the middle of nowhere because I'm trying to solve the problem that I've been dealing with for the last two weeks!"

"That problem being?" I prompted with my own version of annoyingly polite judgment. Perhaps I should have been more worried about how red his face was turning, but the angrier he became, the more I was reminded of his arguments with Jasmine. The familiarity of it was somehow calming.

I was halfway to being amused when he exclaimed, "Who, in the name of Allah and all of his disciples, are you!?"

"Your highness, you know that's-"

"I don't mean your title," he snapped, tossing away my first assumption and the conclusion to my unfinished sentence. "That and your real name are a tertiary issue. I mean who are you, the person. I know who Jasmine thinks you are. I know the perfect prince you want the court to see, but I have no idea what you're actually like, and for a possible son-in-law that is unacceptable!"