‘I’d have done anything to get away from the Lord General,’ Alawani said. ‘I’m just glad Command allowed me to join in on this secret little thing you both have going on here.’
‘Thanks anyway,’ L’?r? said with a smile. ‘For showing up … and sticking around.’
‘Always,’ he said, his breath visible in the chilly air. ‘You know that.’
She noticed the single bead of sweat that trailed from his neatly carved hairline past his bushy eyebrows to his prominent cheekbones.
‘What?’ He chuckled after a moment of silence. ‘Is there something on my face?’
Only then did she realize she’d been staring at him, watching the sweat bead get lost in his trimmed dark beard.His smile widened, and she saw a glimpse of the dimple on his left cheek. She blinked to pull her mind back to the present.
She shook her head gently, her braids swaying softly.
His eyes crinkled at the edges, and the corners of his lips turned upwards. She loved – no, not loved: liked. She liked his smile. She was staring again. This time, she noticed the full shape of his lips, the soft pink shades that coloured where his lips parted, the –
‘Ouch!’ she cried out, rubbing her arm where he’d playfully punched her.
His charming smile broadened, and a deep laugh erupted from him. His brown eyes sparkled, and she almost got lost in them again.
She turned her smile into a deep frown and moved closer to him, her hands tensed in tight fists. As expected, his voice deepened with concern, thinking she was upset – perfect. He carefully reached for her face, and she punched him in the stomach, laughing hysterically. He bent over, half-laughing and choking.
‘Too slow!’ she said, catching her breath.
When he didn’t stop coughing, she bent low to lift his face, and he lunged at her. He wrapped his hands firmly around her waist and lifted her off the ground.
‘Say sorry!’ he said, grunting under her weight as she wiggled her legs in the air, struggling to get free.
‘Never!’ she laughed.
‘Then you’re never getting down!’
‘I will bite you!’
‘You can try!’
They roared with laughter as she squirmed around in his arms, trying to pry them open. The more she moved, the tighter his grip was. His brawny arms were locked tight, andshe could feel his muscles flex as she rubbed against them, trying to get free.
But they were just friends. The best of friends. She always had to remind herself of this every time she caught her thoughts wandering too far. Recently, she’d needed the reminder more often than not. Maybe five or six times a day, but who was counting?
Finally, Alawani dropped her slowly. Her body pressed against his as he eased her feet to the ground. The moonlight shone above them like a spotlight, dimming everything around them, and for a moment, his face was the only thing she saw. Her chest moved with his as they both strained for air. The feel of the ground beneath her snapped her back, and she pulled out of his embrace, pursing her lips together and looking anywhere but at him. When she dared to glance at him, his eyes shot away from hers, and he cleared his throat. Her cheeks flushed, and she could feel her heart race much faster than she could breathe.
She looked away again. ‘I’ve got to get home,’ she said, heading for the stairs.
Every step away from him hurt more than every blow she’d endured tonight. She wanted to stay, to get lost in his arms, in his eyes, under the dark of night. With him, she was safe. With him, she wasn’t L’?r? the coward’s daughter or L’?r? the exiled one. But if she tried to break that unspoken rule between them and he didn’t feel the same way, she’d never recover from it. She just wouldn’t. She glanced back to see him climbing up the stairs after her. She broke into a run, removing herself from him and the thoughts that lingered, hoping that by the time he caught up with her, she’d have recovered from whatever spell he’d cast on her. They were nothing more than friends. That was already more than she could have hoped for.
The crown is immortal. It is the head that wears it that rots.
The crown of Oru sits and shines atop the head of the sovereign its cone-shaped top rimmed with strings of golden cowries like a curtain that shields its wearer from the common eye.
The one who wears the crown fuels its eternal essence with their own soul.
Still, the question that keeps the kingdom awake in the dead of night remains …
WHO WILL SEAT THE GILDED THRONE?
3
Ìlú-?ba – The Capital City First Ring, Kingdom of Oru
