It had finally happened. The day that everyone had anticipated, some with apathy, most with a heavy heart, already grieving.

The King of Balba had finally died.

He had been sick for quite awhile, much to the sadness of the people, slowly getting worse, his coughs harsher and his breathing shallow. The palace had been gloomy, hushed voices had talked about the king and his condition. They whispered about his life, his accomplishments.

His family, and possible heir.

It was no secret that the most obvious choice was the first born Ahbmad, however, a sheltered and lavish life had made him spoilt. His younger brother Sahbmad was a plausible choice, but living in the shadow of his older brother had made him meek, shy, and altogether a weak leader however kind he may be. Then there was the third heir. The rumored ghost of the palace. Alibaba Saluja.

He was nothing but whispers from those in the palace. Snippets of hushed conversation that spread the rumors were never answered, so he was forgotten. But every once in awhile, someone might catch a glimpse of gold, a flash, before it disappeared.

The king had kept a tight hand over his son, his precious child with his one love. Anise. A servant so beautiful that it was said even the king fell for her charm and looks. But one day, she disappeared from the castle, never to be seen again. Only later did he find out that she had passed away while in hiding with his son. The king had held in his tears until he was alone, later that night letting them fall, before quietly sobbing into his hands. The hands she had touched and held so many times. He remembered when she had left, oh god he remembered it well.

The kind had searched for his love, he sent troops after troops for her, but they could never find her. What the kind didn't know was that she had hidden herself in the slums in shame, her stomach swollen with a child. The king's child.

Anise had hidden herself to save her lover's reputation and honor. She knew the public would not be happy to find out her child was the son of the king and herself, a lowly servant. So into the night she had run, to the lowest, dirtiest, and most disgusting part of the city. The slums. She knew that with all these people roaming, covered in dirt and rags, it would be near impossible to find her.

So she hid.

The 7 months she was pregnant on the street was hard on her. She did what odd jobs she could to try to get enough food for not only here but her unborn child. She desperately wanted to go back to her love, her king. It would be so easy to just walk up to the patrols that went down the streets looking for her, randomly checking houses. To just walk over and call their attention to herself, she just had to-

No.

She could not cause her love undue grief because of her selfishness. So she kept herself hidden, blended in with the poor, dirty people of the slums, the same people who she found herself turning into. The people had been ...accepting at first. Well maybe accepting wasn't the right word. More like; they didn't pay her any special attention, too focused on their situation to talk to her. This was fine with her. She didn't think she could handle it if people recognized her.

Eventually though, the small jobs she had been getting started to dwindle. More people started to have to live in the slums, more were out of work. So work stopped for her. She wasn't sure what was happening. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Eventually she grew to desperate, her belly was still rather unnoticeable to the average eye and the rest of her was still breathtakingly beautiful, and she had still been getting many compliments. The idea had come to her only a month or so ago, but since she still had her small jobs, she angrily pushed the disgusting idea away. To stoop so low… But alas, with no work in site and her unborn child's safety at risk with her lack of food, she swallowed her pride and started to subtly hint at the men in the slums that she was into the new… Business.

The idea itself was… disturbing, but when a certain man's eyes gleamed as he caught onto her hints, he agreed readily, his eyes leering at her as he obviously looked up and down her body. The look sent shivers down her spine, but she fought hard to keep them down.

For the baby. And for Him.

This mantra kept her going, as she performed her sickeningly sinful deeds. She did almost whatever she could to get money, and to keep them spending money. But the one thing she never did, never even thought of doing no matter the request or reward, was 'go all the way'. She would never be so disloyal to her love and she hated herself for what she was already doing.

As the months passed her belly grew larger to her joy. It meant that her child was alive and hopefully healthy. But as her 'jobs' started to dwindle due to it, she grew to despair her child's growth. Not her child, but that her stomach stretched and distorted her body's beauty to others. A husband, a loving husband, would rejoice at this. She was sure her king would be happy as well…

As she grew larger, although it seemed impossible to her, the women of the slums were so helping and generous to her. Sometimes they gave her food or would strike up a conversation. So she made many friends and earned a reputation for being very kind and friendly, something greatly missing in most of the slums.

And then the day arrived.

She had been going to the well to get some water, when all of a sudden she felt a sharp pain in her lower abdomen and a flood of liquid down her legs. It felt like the same pain that she had in the previous months, so she didn't stress too much until about half a minute later when the pain was still not gone and only seemed to be worsening. She dropped to her knees with a gasp of agony, gritting her teeth as she tried not to scream as the pain got worse. And then it stopped.

The soreness was still there and she knew from conversations with mothers in the slums that this was only the beginning. A few women passing by that she recognized vaguely spotted her and realized what was going on. The quickly, but gently, grabbed he by her arms and started to half-carry her back to her house/tent. The laid her down on the few pillows and thin blankets that they all called a bed in the slums.

Over the next few hours her agony only became worse, from feeling like she was stabbed to the equivalent of being burned alive. The pain was astronomical and she was awake for every moment. Then within the span of a few minutes of screaming and pushing, a small cry filled the tent. A sob of relief passed over her as one of the women handed her a small bundle in an old blanket. She looked down lovingly at the cute plump baby face that looked wearily at her.

"Congratulations! It's a boy!" The women who handed her the bundle said, a tired but happy smile on her face. Anise stared down at her son. Her son. The words sounded foreign to her. But the shock of blond hair and the light gray eyes that blinked at her was proof of him. The hair was definitely his. His eyes, although gray, she was sure would be his as well when they changed color eventually.

"Do you have a name picked out?" Another woman asked her. Anise touched her son's face tenderly, lovingly.

"Alibaba, his name is Alibaba, the future king of kings. The one to save us all."

Of that she was certain.