Fortune Favors the Cursed
the-reticent-seer
diverselit
diverselit
1.3K5
An orphan girl with questionable morals. A scarred prince with two lives. One relic to change their world.
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Badriya As-Sahra is sick of piling up camel dung and ...Chapter 20
Failure was a monster Ayaz rarely faced. For the most part, it seemed unreal and not a thing to be worried about. He always succeeded when it came to raiding the hideouts of slave traders, giving aid secretly to those in need while no one looked, and most especially, defying his father's wishes about, well, almost everything. The feeling of standing on the high pedestal of success was not a stranger to him.
But it only meant a hard fall when the monster came to topple him down.
Ayaz wasn't going to deny it—he failed to retrieve the Jewel from the cave. Now he was about to fail to deliver it to his father. Since it was the case for him, he gladly took his time to travel all the way to Zarab. Badriya was going to do the job for him if she hadn't already. He wasn't that mad that she almost killed him, however crooked she acted. In a way, she understood that it was her desperation—her greed—that made her do the deed.
A part of Ayaz wanted to panic and scream. The consequence of his failure was losing his inheritance, and the chance to become the next Sultan and change things for the better. All those years of playing by his father's hands and trying to restrain himself from acting rash—all of it were for nothing.
Ayaz sighed, leaning his back against the half-built wall of a mud house. It was the third stop he made for the day, among the countless he took for the last few weeks. Wadi El-Baydha's sparse populace made up for the breathtaking snow-white dunes that were named after it. No one really knew how the pale dunes came to be, but some legend says that the white sand was the moon's unshed tears. It cried every time it saw the broken world below it. Zecaj, Khadys, Naayik, Soom, Psamlah—it missed the times when Salym used to be one whole world that was peaceful. And that it would never be the same now that the Sea separated the five nations from each other.
Ayaz heard of the many versions of that story countless times before. He never knew which was true, but he was certain that perhaps it was for the best that the five countries were driven away from one another. If it weren't so, he wouldn't be surprised that all of them would start fighting everyone else. Perhaps the borders were the only thing that was really stopping Shahrayar from knocking over Khadys' door. By that, he was grateful.
But now, Ayaz had to find a way to prevent the Sultan from losing his last straw. Or rather, he had to find a way to stop his father from unleashing an all-out war, and that would mean doing the last thing Ayaz wanted—assassinating the Sultan.
He didn't seem to have many options. There wasn't time for him to accept defeat and let his father show the world how cruel and greedy he was. If it meant that Ayaz won't be able to enjoy torturing his father slowly just to spare the world, then so be it.
". . .that woman in the palace must be so pleased to have waltzed her way in."
Ayaz paused. A couple of young girls around his age were walking by, and it seemed that they were headed to the house next door. He didn't want to eavesdrop but he needed a small distraction from his thoughts, and so he leaned in closer to listen more.
"Agreed," another one said. "She must've seduced the Sultan just to get the attention. What a who—"
"Excuse me," Ayaz called to them as they were about to open the door. "Do you mind me asking who you are talking about?"
One of the girls blinked at him. "You don't know her? The famous noblewoman who was made an honorary guest by the Sultan days ago?"
"Amiratul hilal," the other girl supplied, her voice dreamy. "I've heard that she's as glowing as the moon itself. And she's very wealthy. Oh, how I wish to be like her."
Her friend scoffed, waving her hand about. "Don't call her with that title. It sounds stupid and made up."
"The Crescent Princess?" Ayaz murmured, then shook his head. "No, sorry. I've been. . . away from the towns for a few weeks now, so I haven't heard. What's the fuss with her about?"