𝕭𝖆𝖚𝖉𝖔𝖚𝖎𝖓: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 6𝖙𝖍 𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘

N

"I'd rather be torn limb from limb than have our love remembered like that of Tristan and Isolde, which has become a source of mockery and makes me ashamed to talk of it." - Chrétien de Troyes

Zahara was busy scavenging through the clothes Eloise had gotten for her. She may have outdone it because now there was enough to cloth ten people. She sees a piece she likes and snatches it trying to make haste with the short time she has before Ahmed, Eloise's husband leaves. Packing the rest back into the wardrobe as neat as possible, she turns and glances around the spare room once more, checking to make sure it is tidy and excited to finally have a decent bedroom. When they leave together the rush of the chilling air brushes her cheeks and she shudders, forgetting to grab her shawl. He unlocks the door chuckling and she sprints to her room and back.

They make their way quietly which Zahara appreciates, not willing to small-talk, continuing to fiddle with her black maxi dress. A thick knitted shawl wrapped around her shoulders down to her hips, her hair in the same cornrows with the partings beginning to disappear and her chunky winter boots. When they reach the large iron gates, the guards welcome Ahmed and glances at Zahara who subconsciously edges closer to him. The walk up became more daunting as her nerves began to throb from the freezing cold and her nervousness. Her fingers were numb and her knuckles lighter as she clutched the shawls tightly against her chest. She recognises the window she saw that figure through last time and guesses that the area to her right was the colonnade.

After they enter through another passageway guarded by four pillars they reach the largest wooden door she could possibly imagine. Seven or eight feet tall if she was not mistaken. Lets not forget how she still has the sack containing her textbook. It is like her comfort plushy and so it is with her like a magnet.

Inside is toasty. Surprisingly. Saying it only took ten fireplaces to heat every room was an understatement. About twenty five at least. The guards have been guiding them through corridors that look the same, Zahara's eye trying to picture the interior as best as it could. Wooden doors with carvings, lots of candles, chandeliers and glass stained windows in some sections. The floor is accommodated with a polished stone slab. On top it lies a soft red carpet that complements the heavy looking curtains. Also tapestries holding images of the late kings and queens. A final turn is taken and Zahara is met with a door right at the end. Another gush of cold wind comes through the open arches windows accompanied by rows of guards. It is the second door she has seen guarded like this, two guards on both sides.

"We are here." Ahmed whispers to Zahara who smiles gallantly and nods.

The doors are pushed open and one of them announces their arrival. "My Lord. Ahmed begins with a bow.

"Allow me to introduce to you my new assistant." When he glances to the left Zahara hangs six feet behind. On the other side of the curtain is someone she is most certainly scared to see. He is definitely old and mean looking even if they say he is nice. I bet he looks as mean as Professor - No! Amid. He isn't my professor anymore!

She then notices Ahmed tipping his head to coax her forward. When she enters beyond the mesh curtains, there sits the king on a chesterfield sofa with his reading book now closed.

"Ah..." She begins seeing nothing of an old man, but a silver mask covering his face. And that's when she notices the white attire. She genuinely thought she had seen a ghost when looking upon that window. Turns out the ghost was the king himself.

"It-it's my pleasure to make your acquaintance, My.. Lord." She says monotony as though she read that from a page. Her bow is arched and crooked, her stance awkward. He simply hums, nodding. Ahmed has already begun setting up as she stands with her feet glued to the ground. She cannot help but occasionally glance at him, how he was still and vigilant about her presence. It was like being watched by an eagle. She hears Ahmed call and makes her way to him, tripping in the process.