Talking to the Moon ✔

-Chapter: Thirty-one-

I decided to meet the Monarch in the afternoon.

I entered his room with a small bang indicating that I was here. He was already awake and he was there where I had left him, staring outside with lonely hopeless eyes. If he came to know my existence he did not show. He did not even seem startled by my noisy entry. I frowned at the Monarch.

I looked around and noticed that all the drapes were pulled down except for the one window he was staring from. It made his room look dull and lifeless. Maybe it reflected the mood that he was in but I did not care.

I marched to the other windows and pulled aside the draped. I had to squint when the sun rays penetrated through the dark clouds that seemed to loom over his room. I saw his head moved towards me from my peripheral vision, I noticed that he narrowed his eyes on me but he did not say anything.

I ignored the window that he was sat with and went to the other windows and did the same. It felt nice to see the sunlight flood in his room. I stared at the portrait above his bed and could not help but smile. Queen Iqra looked radiant and Qamar looked more handsome.

"What are you doing?" He finally spoke up softly and looked at me confused.

I shrugged in response; it was not that he would understand my answer anyway.

He looked away and I sat on his bed and stared at him. How could I get him to talk to him? I just wanted to get him to speak his mind. I did not want him to get trapped inside his mind. He was trapped thought and now it was my duty to pull him out. I had given Omar my word. It meant something to me.

In order to make him talk, I walked towards him and sat opposite to him. He pulled his legs closer to him and ignored me. I felt like a small child seeking his attention but I did it anyway. I patted his arm and he glanced at me. I smiled at him and then pointed at the portrait. Maybe I was going directly to the root of the problem, but I also knew that if there was anything that he would like to talk about it was his family.

"No," he simply said knowing well what I had pointed on. I sighed and looked at him with pleading eyes. He ignored me.

Patience was never my strong virtue and I felt irritation ebb inside of him. I had to help him but to be able to stand true to my words; Qamar had to cooperate to some extent. I did not even know why I expected him to cooperate. If he could cooperate then that would mean that there was nothing wrong with him in the first place. I felt frustrated with myself. Why couldn't I get a reaction out of him? Anything would be better than something. I had to get the real Qamar out of his head, away from the demons inside of him.

I moved away from him and looked around the room. The room was very cosy and homelike. There was nothing too fancy and I knew in an instant that this was doing of Queen Iqra. She seemed like a woman of simple but elegant taste. There was a shelf lined up with books that I could not read the title of but they had beautiful covers. They had been dusted and well-kept and I ran my hands over them feeling their hard bounded covers. They were thick and I wondered whether they belonged to Qamar or the Queen. I turned to look at him and caught him staring at me. He looked away and I turned to inspect the shelf. There was a small miniature version of the ship made of wood on the shelf; a parchment rolled that turned out to be the map of the entire Alam, a crystal replica of the palace and a sheathed khanjar. I looked at it with delight and carefully held it. It was similar to the one that Master Wali had but it was different. It looked richer and if it was not mistaken, its sheath was made of real stones. I walked with the khanjar towards the Monarch and placed it below his eyes. He glanced at it. I pointed at the red stone that was in its sheath asking him which stone it was.