The princess, the commoner and the sorcerer

[the princess]

When the princess awakened, the early morning sun rising and drifting through her curtains, prying her eyes carefully open, it was to an empty bed. She stretched her arms out carefully, and brushed against a piece of paper. Half asleep, she pulled it towards her. It had been place carefully atop a piece of clothing. "As a promise that I will return, my princess." read the note. It was Chameli's top layer. The princess carefully climbed out of bed, her feet dangling and dressed. Then she looked at the note, crumpled in her hand, and wrapped the layer around herself, inhaling Chameli's scent. When she stepped out of the room, her tousled hair carefully pinned back, and Chameli's layer covered with a cloak, for she could not bear to part with it, it was to the discovery of a new guard outside of her room. She scrutinized his face with suspicion, for he did not look much older than she. "Who are you?" she commanded, giving the boy a stern look. The boy's fingers fumbled, gripping the spear in his hands awkwardly.Without another thought, the princess grabbed his hand, caressing it in hers and ignoring his sharp intake of breath.
"Miss-your Majesty." he stammered.
"Quiet." she said and continued to examine his palm. Men did not scare her. When she spoke, it was with one filled with confusion. "You have not the palm of a guard," said she quietly. "It is one of a commoner. Tell me. What are you doing here?" She noticed the boy's eyes darted back and forth quickly, as if hoping for a distraction. But he was given none, and the princess only gave him a stare. 
"I...I was given this job after assisting a guard of yours." said he finally deciding on the truth, for she could tell he was a terrible liar and a goodhearted, honest soul.
The princess frowned, placing a finger upon her lips. "Which guard? I must have a word with them."
And the boy only stuttered in reply. "I know not who he is, for he never gave me his name nor took off his helmet." And the princess's frown only deepened, a sinking feeling in her heart. She was going to have a word with a certain advisor.... And she stalked off, ignoring the voice of the guard behind her. Yet she no chance to confront Balveer, for her days were still filled with lessons and more and more lessons, meetings and future spouses. Ekbal had noticed the layer that belonged not to her a couple lessons ago and had remarked on it laughingly. "Do tell," he had said, "Whoever did you meet at the market square?" And the princess had blushed, though he knew immediately what it meant. 
"Only a girl," she had said. "She left me this." And they had continued the lesson without further interruptions, though Ekbal had annoyingly carried a smirk upon his face for the duration of it. A week had passed when after a meeting, in which she kept a careful eye on Balveer, she was given her chance. She cornered him before he left the room, in an awful hurry, she had noted. "Balveer," said she in a neutral tone. "Might I have a word with you?" But the advisor only spread his arms, smiling widely at her through cracked teeth that did not meet his eyes.
"Ah, princess. I thought you might, for you kept such a careful eye on me." said he, baring his teeth and clasping his palms together. 
"What business did you have with my father the day the guards caught me in the market square?" asked she, watching his face.
But the advisor only laughed. "Still on that, are we? Come now, do you not trust me?" But his laughter died at the princess's face. And, the princess smirked beneath the look of complete apathy she wore, knowing she had won. "I...," started the advisor, and the princess became hyper aware of everything that was happening, the way the advisor's finger kept rubbing over a spot in his cloak, and to the way the muffled steps of the palace guards sounded like rumbling thunder from a storm miles away. And her ears picked up every inconsistency in the advisor's voice, every drop in tone, every hiccup as he answered his question. "I was merely on business to observe the village." said he, "Your father has been trying to find ways to secure shelter and work for the poor. I, along with with other advisors, was sent to watch the village, see the work there, and how bad it was with the poor. Is my answer to your satisfaction?" 
But the princess, ignored the question, pressing on. "Perhaps you can also explain to me why there is a new guard at my door?" And she watched his reaction, for an open mouth, widened eyes or perhaps a tightening of the jaw. But he displayed none of these, and if he was lying, he played it well. 
"I haven't a clue how he arrived here." answered he tonelessly. "The rat is sliming our walls. But your father wants to keep the urchin." And he stalked off, nose in the air. For a moment, the princess was still. Then, remembering her father, she set off to find him. The Sultan was lying passively upon his throne, his face crumpled with exhaustion, as beside him, a pair of servants held up a platter of fruits that had thus far gone untouched. Ananya purposefully strode forward. "Father," said she quietly. 
"What is it, daughter of mine?" the Sultan said, turning a tired head towards her and attempting to smile. 
"Father, have you been sending advisors into the villages to observe the poor?" she asked, watching him carefully.
Her father nodded enthusiastically. "Why, yes. However did you know?" 
But the princess continued on, determined to extract every last bit of information that she could. "How long have you been doing this?"
And the Sultan frowned, thinking. "Naught but for the last week or so."
"Do you know if Balveer was amongst those advisors?" the princess asked quickly.
"I haven't a clue. There are many advisors, after all...whatever is this all about?"
"Father," cried the princess urgently, "I believe we cannot trust Balveer. He is up to no good, I know it!" But, to her great surprise, the Sultan only sighed and closed his eyes.
"Ananya," said he quietly, but the princess could feel the anger radiating from his words. "Do you not trust my judgement? You must stop this nonsense at once!" 
"But, Father...," the princess began, but the Sultan abruptly cut her off. 
"Enough!" he shouted. "I shan't hear another word! Begone from my sight!"
And the princess swept out of the room, blinking back tears. For she knew that though her father was a reasonable man, he did not like his judgement questioned. When she came to her bedroom, accompanied by the commoner guard that had been standing just outside the throne room, for he now insisted on walking her everywhere, to which she made no objection too tired to argue, she was silent. For she felt that the commoner, for the past few days since she had found him outside, had been mercilessly trying to woo her. Yet, she knew he felt just as much passion towards her as she did him, and it only caused her suspicions to rise surrounding Balveer. Ignoring his attempts to compliment everything from her beauty to her dress, she wrenched open the door. "Do not disturb me." she said, and shut it. The princess had barely got the door shut before something, or someone, yanked her arm and pressed her roughly against a wall. "Hello, Chameli." she murmured against the apple seller's lips. And the princess felt her worries disappear, if only for a moment. She needed this, a distraction. Ananya dragged the girl towards her, deepening the kiss, running her fingers through her hair and down her back. But Chameli pulled away, placing her hands firmly on the princess's chest. 
"What is on your mind, dear princess?" asked she, "For surely there is something the matter. I can see it in your eyes." And the apple seller placed two fingers on the princess's chin, turning it up to meet her worried eyes. Ananya sighed, letting her shoulder drop and arms drift down upon the apple seller's shoulders.
Chameli pressed her forehead against the princess's and whispered, "Ananya, I will stand by your side no matter the odds." And the princess nodded, for she trusted the apple seller with her whole heart. They ended up on the bed, the apple seller wrapped protectively over the princess, stroking her hair softly. 
"My father has many advisors," began the princess. "Yet I do not trust, for I gain a bad feeling whenever I look upon his face."
But Chameli interrupted her. "His name?"
"Balveer." The apple seller only nodded, brows furrowed and a look of intensity creasing her face. And the princess continued on, "I fear for this kingdom, for I believe Balveer plans to overthrow my father. And the new guard, outside my door, continues to try and woo me, though I know he has no real feelings for me. I believe, somehow, they are connected, though Balveer seems disgusted by his presence. Yet, myt father does not believe me, for I have questioned his judgement, something he does not uphold with." Chameli nodded carefully, and pressed a gentle kiss upon her forehead. 
"I am sorry for all that has been done unjust to you, my princess. I only wish there were something I might do to ease your mind. But, your father does not need to believe you." And the princess met the apple seller's sparkling eyes. "For I do."