Greetings people!
halobeast-117 : Ooh, you play the game too? Thanks!
Read Love And Review : Haha thank you! And no, they won't be rivals here. I actually wanted to explore the layers of their friendship in the first chapter, since this chapter will be focused on Ichigo and Rukia.
JustGrace13 : Thanks! I hope you enjoy this!
Guest : Haha, I guess you'll have to wait and find out!
hunterofcomedy : OMG hi! It's been so long! I haven't had any interaction with you in ages. It's actually inspired by the Arabian Nights which I came across a few weeks back. And that got me thinking, what if Rukia/ Ichigo had a story in Arabic lands? Thanks a lot anyway!
usuratonkachixx : Haha thank you so much!
hirako shinji : I like that name. Thanks!
teshichan : Haha I guess I am no good at creating mystery, huh? Thanks!
Guest : Woah. Thank you so much. I am really glad you like it so much! And haha, sorry but there will only be 3 chapters and an epilogue at the most.
FelicityHeights : Thank you so much! I am usually all for description, but in this story I wanted to focus more on the characters. Thank you for your encouragement, once again!
StrawberryBADDESTfemale : Woah, that's one bold name! Thanks a lot. Your wish has been granted - this chapter is 3500+ words XD
Guest : I don't know if you have reviewed before... but you must know, that this update happened because I saw your recent review. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy it!
I won't even go into the reasons for the delay of this chapter. Well, actually I will... but towards the end. For now, enjoy the chapter! :)
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Chapter 2 : The Ill-Rumored King
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I immediately disliked the guard.
He was a little too respectful to not suspect. I had been around enough guards, both royalty and not-royalty, to know that no guard let go without treating slave-girls like trash. If they were being remotely humane, something somewhere was extremely wrong. And this auburn-haired, bulky looking guard was being extremely distant and quiet.
I cast another discreet glance at him. Why was he being so civil?
Maybe what awaited me was something so repulsive that he wasn't even bothering having his share of sadistic fun.
That made me all the more weary of the so-called Ruthless Emperor. Against my will, my heart started thumping louder, threatening to burst out any moment. What was planned for me? What was he going to do? Was he going to do what had he done with all those girls?
We finally reached the giant, intricately designed pair of brass doors and I inhaled sharply. This was it.
This was it.
The guard took a step forward and opened the doors, gesturing for me to walk in. He didn't forcefully push or pull or anything.
Suspicious. Something was definitely up.
As the doors silently shut behind me, every sense went on alert. My eyes roved past the expensively decorated walls, the crystal chandelier hanging overhead and the king-sized bed to the broad silhouette standing at the veranda entrance.
Was he the Emperor? After all, the over-sized black robe he had adorned looked too expensive and royal for him to not be the emperor.
His face was turned away from me and all I could make out was his still back. As I took a silent step ahead, he stayed rooted to his spot, giving no indication that he had heard me.
A thought struck me.
This was the perfect chance. I could stab him from the back while he was still oblivious – at least that seemed to be the case. Aware or oblivious, I had to take my chances either way.
Slowly and noiselessly taking out the dagger, I stalked towards him. One step, two steps, three steps, four steps, five steps, pause. And then I struck.
It all happened so fast.
He turned around, held my wrist, pulling me to him and deflected the blow of the dagger. Taken by surprise, the dagger slipped from my fingers and fell behind him on the ground with a resounding clatter. I stood there, gaping at him as he looked down from my wrists into my eyes. I noticed he had orange hair peeking out of the cloth turban. His amber irises roamed about, as if searching for something in my eyes.
Amber eyes…?
My breath hitched. "It's you." I didn't know why my voice came out in a whisper even though I was sure I wanted to scream.
His face, devoid of all expression, continued staring in my eyes. "And it's you." He whispered back in the same tone.
We stood for a moment in silence, in the same position, looking at each other.
It was him. It was him.
And then he scowled just as I felt my face scrunch in a frown.
"What's your problem?" he asked sternly, head momentarily turning to look at the fallen dagger. When he looked back, his eyes were surprised. "You were trying to assassinate me?"
I had started struggling to free my wrists by now. This was bad. Really, really bad. "Leave me!"
"Why should I?" he countered, the grip on my wrists tightening. He was beginning to look mad.
I glared at him, my brain going into overdrive as I struggled against his grip. I had to escape. Now. "Who are you? And why are you here? Leave me!"
Incredulity registered on his face as he stared down at me. "You tried to kill me without knowing who I was?"
"Leave me!"
"No!"
"Leave me!"
"No, answer me first!"
"No, first leave me!"
He pulled me closer, seriousness etched on his face. "You woman, better answer me right now. Or else get yourself sent to the gallows right away, without even a chance to explain your actions."
My heart nearly stopped beating. He was serious. Quite reluctantly, I stopped struggling and tried swallowing back the panic. "Okay. But leave my hands."
As he released my hands I took a step back, drawing my wrist behind and rubbing it. He didn't need to know how much that grip had affected me. Honey-colored irises bore into mine. "Explain."
"Explain what?"
The scowl was back on his face. "Why were you trying to kill me?"
I collected my thoughts before asking him a question of my own. "Are you the Emperor?"
He blinked and opened his mouth as if to argue, but seemed to think better of it and instead answered my question. "Yes."
I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. I knew it. The amber-eyed man at the market could not have been good news. He was the wolf disguised as the sheep. Why had I thought that man was different? That he was a savior? That maybe there was a decent soul in this hell?
All these people were mixed. All these corrupt, money-hoarding, disrespectful bastards.
Renewed hatred flowed through me and I snapped open my eyes to glare at the emperor. "There you have your answer."
We glowered at each other. I looked on as his face morphed into anger and confusion. "What do you mean?"
"That day at the market. You didn't save us. You bought us to this hell. To torture us and appease the monster in you." The panic was long forgotten and I felt something stronger, something angrier, something disappointed surge in my chest. "You bring women to your harem, slave them through the night to appease you, and then hang them in the morning. That is your definition of entertainment? That brings you joy? You are a monster. A MONSTER!"
He looked on, face unreadable, arms crossed across his chest. I felt my breath coming in short spells, the words temporarily ceasing to spew out of my mouth. This man… I was wrong. So wrong.
So stupid, too.
"Which town are you from?"
"Huh?" Had I heard him right? Had he just dismissed my outburst?
"I asked, what town are you from?"
Such a bastard. He actually overlooked my outburst. "Seiretei."
The expression on his face turned thoughtful. "That is the village with Japanese immigrants…as well as the highly educated population. It's famous for the legends and tales told by the shrine priests…" he looked back at me, genuine curiosity written in his eyes. "Do you know any of them?"
"So what if I do?" I snapped back. It didn't matter that he was the emperor. In that moment, it was just him, the amber-eyed man who I had seen in the market and me, the slave.
His eyes hardened. As the silence ensued, I felt my anger subside and be replaced by something akin to resignation. Why was I so angry anyway? It's not like I had known him long enough in that fleeting moment to expect character of him.
"Tell me a story."
This was not what I was expecting him to say. "What?"
He nearly rolled his eyes. "Tell me a story. A myth, a legend from your village. I have always been curious to know of them."
"Why?" I shot back.
"Because that is the only way to save your life." He countered.
All the anger rushed back. "I. Don't. Care. You can do whatever you want, Your Highness."
I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. No, I didn't wish to die. There was Inoue. I could not die. But for some reason, there was a very foreign sensation in my chest. It was a mix of resentment, anger, pain… and something else that this man seemed to be arousing in me. And that, was what made me talk so recklessly.
"You are not alone, are you?" he finally spoke. "There is another female in your troupe, whom you exchanged turns for today. Do you really wish to die and leave her behind?"
I swallowed. Of course I didn't, but he didn't need to know that.
He sighed. "You are a difficult woman."
Don't answer him Rukia. Don't.
"Look, let's have a deal. I will give you a chance to attack me every night."
I felt my jaw drop open. What was he saying? "What?"
He smirked, and it struck me that this was the first time I was seeing it on his face. "I will leave an opening for you to attack me, every night. But, if you fail, you have to tell me a tale from your village. And since you have failed in your attempt today, you have to tell me a tale. Agreed? You don't have an option anyway," he added even as I opened my mouth to protest.
This was absurd. Tell him stories? I hated him! He was a monster, a hell guard, a man I hated and despised and…ugh! No Rukia, say no, refuse him!
"Will you keep your word?" I asked instead.
Great going, Rukia.
His eyes twinkled. Was it the light in the room? "You have my word."
No Rukia, my mind berated. He repels you, disgusts you. He is a monster, a demon. Say no, turn around, walk away, pick up your dagger and stab him-
"Okay." I inhaled deeply. "The tale I am about to tell you is of the King Shahryar."
Inoue was crying. Like, crying. Tears and all. Watery mucus was flowing from her nostrils and her eyes were scrunched up, dotted tears spotting her face and for once I was forced to think that maybe, maybe even the most beautiful of people had their ugly moments.
"You came back Rukia." She sobbed on my shoulder, arms encasing me in a tight hug. "You came back."
Despite myself I felt my chest swell. Here she was, my sister in bond, who was sobbing her eyes out after probably the most agonizing night of her life. It was evident in the way she had stared at me as if I were a spirit from beyond when I had returned to the inner palace this morning, a few moments ago. And I was feeling happy, so happy.
"Inoue," I mumbled, trying to make my voice reach her over the loud sobs. "It's okay. I told you I would be fine, didn't I?"
She said nothing and continued sobbing.
It was late afternoon and Michiru was still staring at me in wonder. "You made it through an entire night with the Ruthless emperor Rukia! And you returned safe and sound this morning! Fantastic! How did you manage this?"
Inoue was sitting close to me, almost cuddling. She was well aware of the deal I had with the King, but at the moment, all that seemed to matter to her was that I was safe.
"What can I say..." I trailed off. It had been the most-
-EXHAUSTING NIGHT OF MY LIFE!
The King was annoying, I decided. He kept listening to the tale with the interest of a toddler – demonic one, of course - , though his face had borne an indifferent look. And with the attention span of one too. For every time he'd interrupt me with baseless questions like 'why did he do this?' or 'how did he find out about his wife?' or 'when would he find the truth?'
Annoying. So, so, so annoying. I had just found another reason to kill him off for good.
In the morning, before leaving, he had the gall to tell me – "See you again tonight. Let's hear the fisherman's tale."
Oh he was definitely going to die.
"Did she finally kill him?"
I sighed. Fifth day. It had been the fifth day since I had taken up the job of entertaining the monster king. Quite unwillingly at that.
And I hadn't been able to find a single opening to attack him! He was smarter than all that orange hair made him look.
"Your Highness," I tried controlling my temper, "if you will keep your patience I will endeavor to reveal just that to you."
His brows furrowed. "Well? What are you waiting for then?"
Angry. Angry. So angry.
Smiling brightly at him, I aimed the nearest book at his stomach. "Oh my! A thousand pardons Your Highness!" I added a gasp for effect, "It slipped my fingers!"
He grunted, bent over and clutching his stomach. Nothing came out of that abhorrent mouth of his.
I controlled the smile from breaking on my face. Ha! Maybe I could kill him with such injuries.
"You witch!"
The smile dropped off my face. He was definitely going to die from multiple stabs of my dagger.
I sighed in frustration as he ducked and knocked the dagger off my hands, making it skid out of my reach. He raised an eyebrow as he watched me huffing and panting, trying to get my breath back.
It was the tenth day. And I still had no success in killing him.
"So can we resume narrating the fate of the fisherman?" he asked in a bored voice.
I wanted to kill him. So badly.
"The fisherman told the genie," I continued, rushing towards him and aiming an unsuccessful punch that he dodged, "that it was extremely difficult to believe-," he dodged the kick too! I needed that dagger. "That he could fit into a bottle that tiny. But the genie continued asserting that he was capable of doing it." Finally! The dagger was back in my hands! I shot the King an evil look before rushing towards him.
"To prove his point, the genie rushed back into the bottle-"
He caught hold of the wrist that held the dagger and twisted my hand so that it was at my back. However, the force had him tumbling and falling on his back with me on top of him.
"– and the fisherman immediately seized the bottle, sealing the genie in it and-"
My mouth stopped moving, choosing to pant instead. The entire length of my body lay on top of his, our faces inches away from each other's. We both were breathing hard - him not so much – our breaths mingling. Our eyes met and I realized I could see the flecks of orange and brown in his eyes, the spotless texture of tan on his face, the distinct outline of his lips…
His eyes held so much of warmth. Something that had been there since the first time we met.
"And?" he asked quietly. Something in his eyes had become darker, and more intense.
"And capturing him… forever."
It was not until a few seconds of hard breathing had passed that I realized his grip on my wrist had loosened. Immediately I moved my hand and brought it forth aiming for his head.
Though surprised, he immediately pushed me off him and sat up. I sighed in frustration. Again! Again I had missed it!
And then he laughed. His laughter echoed off the closed walls, cutting through the eerie silence of the night.
For a moment I lost all train of thought. Such a loud, clear sound.
I had never heard him laugh before.
In the few days that I'd spent with him, he had been aloof. The only expressions his face showed were indifference, boredom, scowl or an occasional smirk. Truth be told, he had a very distant and heavy aura about him. But a bright, unbridled laugh? This was a first.
Had he gone finally crazy? Wait, this could be a great opening –
He looked over at me, his laughter dying down. "You are stupid, Rukia." His face morphed into a sad looking half-smile. "But I am stupider."
Yes. He was definitely crazy.
"How do you know my name?"
He frowned at me. "What?"
It was the fifteenth day. Fifteen days since I had entered this hell-hole, fifteen days of unsuccessful attempts at assassinating the King.
And while narrating a story, it suddenly struck me that he knew my name. Since the past few days he had been addressing me by my first name. I had been meaning to ask him since the first time he called me by my name, but something always came up to distract me.
"How do I know your name?" he asked, looking back at me.
"Yes. I don't remember telling you or anyone in the palace about it."
He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "A king has his needs. I know the name of every woman in my harem."
For some reason that rubbed me the wrong way. His harem? Had he just lumped me in with his harem?
"I am not a part of your harem."
He looked surprised at my tone. "Why are you angry?"
"Because I am not a part of your harem. I am just- just-"
"My assassin?" he supplied helpfully.
I glared at him. "Your murderer. Your Death. Your Hell. Your Punishment."
He smirked obnoxiously – which I, unfortunately, didn't find obnoxious anymore. "If this is hell, I don't wish for heaven."
Ba-thump.
I decided it was a good time to resume the story. "So then the prince walked-"
"Ichigo Kurosaki."
I looked at him.
"My name. You never asked." He clarified, giving me an unreadable look before shaking his head. "Not that anybody does."
I blinked. Ichigo Kurosaki? That was a Japanese name. Was he a Japanese too?
But then I realized it didn't matter to me. "How does that matter to me anyway? I still get to call you Your Majesty."
"No," he clarified quickly, "you don't need to call me Your Majesty. Just call me Ichigo."
I am not going to call you that, I wanted to say. "Ichigo." I mumbled instead, the word tasting foreign to my lips.
And in that moment, I felt something between us break.
"If I feel like it I'll call you so." I mumbled on seeing his expression. "Till then it's Your Majesty."
He nodded, the beginning of a smile forming in the corners of his eyes.
It scared me.
It scared me to realize that I was beginning to see the human side of him that craved a sense of belonging.
I yawned again. This was getting so tiring!
"And the man walked away…"
How many days had it been since I had last had a good night's sleep? Nights in their entirety would be spent entertaining the King with stories, while days would be spent walking around and exploring the Palace with Inoue and others.
Suddenly my head was on the pillows, blankets being piled on me. All sleep vanished as my senses went on alert. "What are you doing?" I screeched at Ichigo and tried getting up.
But he pushed me down. "Sleep Rukia. You need to rest. You haven't had proper sleep in the past three weeks."
Panic took over. I couldn't sleep. No. Because if I slept and it dawned the King would execute me-
"I won't kill you." He said while rolling his eyes. "You will wake up safe and sound in the morning. You have my word."
He was lying. He was definitely lying. He could not be saying the truth.
And then he laid down, facing me. His palm came to rest on the top of my head. It was the first sign of affection I had ever received from him. "Rukia," he started, "I am not going to kill you. Please trust me and go to sleep. I want you to rest and recover."
I wanted to laugh in his face. Trust him? Really? The monster who killed Rio?
But instead I shut my eyes, holding back the burning moisture in my eyes.
How could a murderer have hands so warm?
So, how was it? There remains just one more chapter. And then maybe, a very short epilogue.
As you'll must have noticed, this story is mainly about Rukia's character as a slave. Hence the description of other characters, including Ichigo, is being kept to a minimal. But, I am leaving hints about his thoughts and pov too. Hope you'll can spot them!
Also, I am very sorry about the delay. :( Thing is, about 7 months back, I started an internship that's a necessary part of the course I am studying. And that has been eating up most of my time. Like, since the past 2 weeks and for the next 3-4 months, I'll be working all 7 days.
BUT! I love writing. It is my calling, and I know it. So updates may be a little erratic, but they will be there :D
Please share your opinions!
