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Fortune Favors the Cursed

the-reticent-seer
diverselit
1.3K5
An orphan girl with questionable morals. A scarred prince with two lives. One relic to change their world. * * * Badriya As-Sahra is sick of piling up camel dung and ...

Chapter 4

Most of the time, when the sultan made a declaration or a promise, either good or bad, one should expect that he would deliver it with no doubts. But Ayaz doubted his father would get through with his threat that he just gave the previous day.
Not that he was hopeful—he already gave up hope that his father would change for the better, but he was his only child. He had no siblings, and no relatives that might contest his birthright. As far as Ayaz knew, Shahrazad was incapable of bearing a child. Even so, Shahrayar vowed to never marry anyone else after his beloved storyteller. That made Ayaz the sole heir to the throne.
But vows could be broken as easily as they were made. The sultan could find another woman to give him a son, although that would definitely break his wife's heart. On the other hand, he could plot an assassination for him, but he was no stranger to Ayaz's talent with the sword. Ayaz was certain his father knew that he could kill the assassin before he could get the chance, since he was the one who encouraged him to train along the palace guards.
Shahrayar would do. . . something, anything, that could steal away Ayaz's chance of becoming the next sultan, and he can't let that happen. For years, he played his pieces wisely as he tried to win his father's favor, but he feared that he used up all of his best ones. Ayaz had to find the jewel before the sultan could make another move on the board, a move that he may not get out of.
Rising from his seat, Ayaz swept the contents out of his desk with a frustrated growl. Thinking about the stupid jewel ruining his future infuriated him. What was Khalil thinking when he told the sultan of the item? It wasn't even real. Was this one of the vizier's ploys to get into the sultan's head?
Ayaz itched to get a grip of his sword and the feel of control he often experienced in his secret raids. He itched to feel something thrilling, something to make his heart race. He itched to slice his enemies and for their blood to splatter on the sand.
He needed to stab something, or he would lose his mind and do something rash. And he couldn't afford that right now.
Without another thought, Ayaz took his sword and scabbard and left his room. He didn't care if he frightened passing servants or alarmed idling guards as he stomped forward. They better get out of the way, or they would regret it.
Just when Ayaz was about to turn left on the corridor, he paused as the Grand Vizier walked to his direction with a guard trailing behind him. The unmistakable scarlet of his sleeveless coat flapped behind the sultan's most trusted adviser, a matching turban with golden beads adorning his head. Ayaz was about to step back and turn around when Khalil acknowledged his presence.
Sighing, Ayaz straightened his back and faced the last person he wanted to see. "Vizier."
Khalil gave him a short bow. "My prince. May I have a word with you, if you don't mind?"
"Can we talk some other time?" Ayaz clenched his hand into a fist, suppressing the urge to draw his sword. "I'm not in the mood for speaking to anyone, especially those who influence the sultan's current decisions."
"I cannot imagine," Khalil said. "But it is of utmost importance, and if I wait, I fear that you have already left the capital to find the jewel."
Ayaz sighed. "Fine. Let's walk while at it, then."
After the vizier dismissed his guard, he and Ayaz headed to the palace gardens. Tall palm trees were everywhere, providing fruit and shade. Cool water flowed in man-made ponds and fountains. It was one of the many luxuries found in the sultan's palace, and one of the few that Ayaz actually liked.
"I apologize if I am the reason for your anger," the vizier began. "I understand if you believe that the quest for the jewel is a waste of time and—"
"Of course it's a waste of time!" Ayaz's voice echoed around them, but he didn't care if anyone would hear them. "You, of all people, should know! But you've made me, and not to mention a bunch of Zecajians, chase for the ghost of an object, and for what? To strip me of my future title? Is that what you're after?"