2.

Mozenrath clenched his jaw as Sybil delivered a backhanded slap across her father's face.

"How dare you!" She snarled, her eyes widened with rage. "What makes you think you have any right to invade my privacy…"

"And I suppose my rights as your father are obsolete." He said in a cool, detached tone. She went to strike him again and this time he caught her fist before she could use her nails. Force radiated from her palm and her strange bend of power finished the blow she physically could not. Red striped laid across his cheek and chin and Mozenrath jerked his daughter to the side.

"You are being entirely ungrateful."

"Ungrateful!" she railed, her turquoise blue hair revealing itself in the torchlight. "What cause do I have to be grateful that you're selling me out to some pampered prince. Not even a real prince…a…a…street rat whelp!" she looked positively infuriated, a look that made her resemblance to her father even more disturbing.

"If you had bothered listening in these past months you'd have realized that I'm setting you up as the future queen of Agrabah!" Mozenrath snapped back, his fists clenching. He had never, despite what people would feel sure of, struck his daughter. Pushed her, pulled her, moved her forcefully when he felt it necessary. But he had never raised his hand to intentionally hurt her.

That did not mean he was not sorely tempted to at times.

And who do we have to blame for her infuriatingly stubborn attitude?

Alright. He could admit that much to himself.

"Future queen." Sybil struck back sharply. "Assuming everything goes according to plan. Assuming I don't kill him first…"

Mozenrath pointed a condemning finger at her. "You will do no such thing!" he commanded, seeing his daughter pull back a little at an actual order.

"But…why?" she said, almost pleading like a child. "It would be so much easier to simply be done with the whole family and rule Agrabah myself." She crossed her arms and pouted. Another trait she had gotten from her father. Albeit on a female it looked a bit more endearing.

Mozenrath sighed, rubbing his temples to alleviate the pressure. "You must understand. The Dominion is gaining momentum. Their tens of thousands of miles away now, but who knows how quickly they could move towards our kingdom. Five years? Ten at the outside most."

"But your Mozenrath!" she said entreatingly. Despite her disobedience and rebellion, she still saw him as every girl sees her father. A force to be reckoned with. The strength in her life that protects from outside assailment.

Mozenrath felt a pang that he shut quickly away. It wouldn't do for her to see that glimmer of affection in his eyes. "And I've gotten where I am by planning ahead. By foreseeing every potential outcome." He held out his hand, offering it for her to help stand. Sybil shoved it out of the way and tried to rise with as much dignity as she could muster. She was still a teenager. Still ungainly.

"But that's still ten years. Why now? Why…him?" She was calmer now. Her outbursts were violent but short. And when she regained self control she was always more willing to listen to reason.

Mozenrath wondered if he should take pity on Aladdin's son and warn him.

*smirk* Let him find out the hard way.

"Ten years at the outside most. You have no idea how quickly an empire can make headway. It really depends upon how quickly the monarchies in the north submit. The longer they fight, the longer the Seven Deserts, us included, have to prepare."

Sybil's eyes lit up. "Xerxes deliveries!" she spoke suddenly. "Those rich gifts from our coffers." She tilted her head in an intrigued fashion. "You've been building relations."

Mozenrath nodded. "Not an easy task. I'm not exactly everyone's friendly neighborhood sorcerer." He grimaced, remembering the tentative replies on his desk. Most nobles were happy to accept the gifts, but the words back were always the same. A sweet, carefully worded "Thank you." Followed promptly by a "Please leave us alone." That was fine. He couldn't dedicate his energies to conquest any more. Not when there was something out there bigger and more powerful than himself that posed a threat.

He had worked too hard and given up too much to loose it to somebody else.

"But…a marriage proposal…" Sybil said with more insight. "To a respectable and even heralded kingdom…"

Mozenrath let himself exhale a little. If she could be made to see the sensibility in this it was all the better. "It would lend to the semblance that we are sincere in our motives." He paused. "At least for now."

Sybil and he exchanged conspiratorial looks. She uncrossed her arms and her face became challenging. "I won't marry him just because of that." She said firmly. "I will want to meet him first. He has to be worthy of me to even be a consideration as a bridegroom."

Mozenrath looked at her severely. "Just how many candidates do you think there are? I don't exactly see roses piling up at our doors or poetry being written in your name."

Sybil blanched at the insult. "Maybe if you didn't keep me cooped up in this derelict Citadel…nothing to do but keep pouring over dusty old books…practicing magic until each spell is perfected."

"And you've made me more proud than any other apprentice ever could in that department." He would not have said it if it had not been true. Compliments did not come naturally to Mozenrath. It was not flattery. It was truth. She was skilled, dedicated, talented and creative. When she became engrossed in a spell, sleep, food, and all other necessities became irrelevant until she had mastered it.

"Now if only you could be a better daughter." He said without pause.

"You mean a more obedient daughter." Sybil rolled her eyes and spoke as she stormed off down the hallway. "If you wanted that in a girl you should have mated with a human."

Mozenrath started after her when a small voice came from a door. "Are you and sister fighting again?"

Mozenrath looked down at the child, no more than eight, who was only half peeking out from behind the frame. He was dressed in the livery of the Citadel, his dark black curls combed so as to hide his eyes from view. "Your sister is being obstinate again. Don't worry about it. Go back and play with the nanny."

"Nanny Elaine went to go get supper for me. Can't you come in and play for a little while dad?" he voice was soft and entreating. Not a plea, just an askance for a little of his fathers time and company.

Mozenrath coughed. "I have business to attend to for the moment. Would you like me to send one of the servants in? Perhaps one of the pets I got you?"

"No. It's alright." His voice registered neither disappointment or sorrow. Simply acceptance of his father's time constraints. "I understand. Tell sister I said good night."

"I will." He said swiftly and turned away so as not to hear the click of the door and the sound of slowly moving, small feet on the marble. As he moved down the corridor a middle aged woman, plump and carrying a tray of food nearly bumped into him.

"Oh! Lord Mozenrath forgive me! I didn't see you…"

He waved her off dismissively. "How is he?"

Nanny Elaine paused. "Well. Better every day. He's begun to learn the alphabet and numerals from those bumpity books you found for him. Spends hours feeling over them with his little fingers." She gave a half hearted smile. "It does seem to be making him happy to be able to read at least my lord."

Mozenrath nodded, apparently satisfied with the progress report. "Make time to take him out to the greenhouse and menagerie tomorrow." He ordered and began to head onward.

"My lord." Nanny Elaine said. "Forgive me if it is speaking out of turn to you. I would never presume if little Morgan hadn't asked so imploringly and of course if you havn't the time…"

"Nanny Elaine…" Mozenrath said impatiently. She was a good woman, showing affection a great deal more readily than Mozenrath knew himself capable of. He knew she had lost four in the womb to miscarriage and two to disease in her younger years. For this alone she was the perfect nurse and doted on Morgan like he was her own son. But she did have a tendency to prattle that would have gotten her murdered in her masters earlier years.

"I do think the young prince would enjoy his father showing him the menagerie and plant house. After all, my lord has so many exotics I would hardly know what to call them all."

Mozenrath started to flare, his gauntlet glowing angrily at this servants audacity. But something in him suddenly felt…old. "I'll find some time in the afternoon to take him." He said quickly.

"Can I tell him it's a promise?" the nanny began. But Mozenrath was around the corner before it could reach his ears.

***

"A sorceress eh?" Rashad whistled and gave a lewd grin. "I've heard they can be pretty randy given the right incentive." He nudged the young man beside him in royal robes. "Pretty lucky break for you eh Farhis?"

Farhis laughed with good humor and tossed his turban up in the air again. He was currently trying to see if he could catch it on the next branch up from Rashad's. If he could, than his friend would have to retrieve the lost hats instead of him. "I dunn know though. Dad said it's only for a year, and just an engagement at that."

"What for?" his friend asked, gently knocking the back of his knee so he'd miss his next throw.

Farhis threw him a competitive look. "To see if we're compatible I guess. Or at least to make sure we won't kill each other." He chuckled at his own joke.

Jubair guffed in a serious manner. "You shouldn't take that so lightly. Do you know how many stories are full of witch wives who tricked their husbands and murdered their own children in some kind of dark bloody ritual?" he held up the book he was reading. "In this one, there's this spider widow. She tricks a man into her web by singing with a beautiful voice. Then, when he's too seduced, she calls her children and lets them eat him alive."

"Jubair…" Rashad grabbed the book and tossed it into the fish pond. "If you got your nose out of books about woman and got your self into a woman…"

"Rashad Duhul Faquir!" A woman's voice, older and mothering came from no where, causing the three boys to jump in surprise. "If your mother heard you talking like that about women! And you with five sisters…"

"I'm sorry your majesty…Sultana Jasmine…ma'am." Rashad gave a low bow, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

The sultana was not swayed. "I've half a mind to go tell Sadira exactly how her son is behaving."

"Not that there's a word of truth to it." Farhis whispered under his breath. Jubair tried to stifle a chuckle but Jasmine's eyes turned towards her son.

"Do you have something to add in your friend's defense?" she asked her son sharply. "Perhaps if you paid more attention to the council debates instead of the theater houses you wouldn't be so inclined to listen to his bawdy stories."

Farhis stood up straight, looking into his mothers eyes warmly, but respectfully. "It's better I have him to entertain me with fancies, than fancy at entertaining myself with the reality." He'd scored a point with that once. He watched the sides of his mother's mouth twitch playfully at his insolence and brazen attitude. He'd always had a quick wit and a bolder sense of humor than most princes. Whereas Aladdin had always been willing to add muscle to his cleverness, Farhis would talk his way out of a situation if he could before anyone got punched.

"Very well. But you boys should all be at lessons right now. Where is your tutor?"

"Out with the mumps your majesty." Jubair said quickly. "We came outside to enjoy the menagerie and catch up on some light reading." He presented his book as a show of good faith.

"And your homework?" she said quickly, looking from her son, to his friends.

Farhis chuckled. "Well I'm almost done with the essay. Just needs some polishing up before I turn it over."

Jasmine gave an expectant smile. "Than why don't you go get it. I would be more than happy to help my son refine his linguistic skills." She gave him a smart look and Farhis gave an embarrassed chuckle.

"Well…of course mother…I would be so grateful if…"

Jasmine waved her hands in exasperation. "All right all right." She kissed her son's forehead lovingly. "Go on the three of you. It's too nice a day to spend studying anyhow. Why don't you go to the marketplace and pick us up some fresh fruits for dinner tonight?" The boys nodded, excited at the chance to get beyond the palace walls for a while. "And when you get back you can have a five page essay for me about trade and commerce in Agrabah."

A long, harmonious moan followed her words as she gave her son a bag of coins with much more than it would take for a few baskets of fruit. They thanks the sultana and hurried off before she could issue another edict for their education.

"You know you really should be more grateful." Jubair said pointedly at Rashad. "Your mother was born a street rat just like the sultan. And the sultana was kind enough to make her a handmaiden. Otherwise someone like you wouldn't qualify for a written education."

Rashad aimed a punch at Jubair's arm and the smaller boy yelped in pain. "My mother was a witch of the sands before she became a handmaiden ya jerk. Don't go acting all high and mighty because your father's the head scribe for the palace."

"Yeah. And like you said, my dad was born a street rat too. Which means I wouldn't qualify either." Farhis said pointedly as he purchased a place of pita and hot lambs meat.

"Yes, but your mothers the sultana." Jubair said reasonably. "Rashad's father was just a palace guard."

"Do you like getting hit?" Rashad exclaimed angrily, raising his fist again.

"I think everyone should get an education." Farhis said suddenly, causing both boys to stop in their skirmish. They looked at him questioningly, both wondering where the sudden outburst of insight had come from.

"Think about it guys. I mean, we skip classes and stuff all the time, but then we kinda have the privilege of being able to have classes at all." Farhis smiled congenially. "And sometimes we get to learn some interesting things along with all the other boring junk."

"But that's not possible." Jubair stated. "Law forbids anyone beneath noble class from learning to read or write, learning philosophy or history or even politics." He pointed to the vendors. "Even merchants are only allowed to learn mathematics and linguistics."

"Yeah but what if you could create a tutoring center? Ya know, use some of the taxes to fund it and allow for everyone, no matter their class, to get an education." Farhis spread his arms wide. "Think of it, Agrabah, City of the Learned. The Wisest Kingdom in the Seven Deserts." He looked at his friends expectantly, waiting to see them revel in his vision.

Rashad and Jubair look at one another, than promptly burst out laughing. "I tell you Farhis, you've come up with some wacky things before. But this has to beat all!" Rashad said and clapped his chest. "I mean seriously, can you imagine it. Merchants and carpenters going to school alongside whores and opium tenders?" He let out another long laugh, fully absorbed in the humor of it.

Farhis blustered a little at the comment. "It would be for kids only. Like our age and younger." He amended.

"Even worse." Jubair said. "The children for whores and merchants alongside one another." He chuckled and adjusted his glasses on his face. "Seriously though. How insulting would that be. Imagine your child going to school with the bastard of a whore? Think of all the stories he'd come home with? No good can come of mixing classes Farhis."

"What about..?"

"Your mother and father were the exception to the rule. Aladdin proved himself and his status was elevated because of it." Jubair explained. "That doesn't mean everyone deserves the same treatment."

"I agree, but for a different reason." Rashad hugged his royal friend with one arm and pointed to a group of children in their tens and elevens rolling a hoop around the ally-way with a stick. "Don't they look happy? Enjoying themselves? Carefree and no worries on their shoulders? Now, do you want to go over and tell them about the Dominion's activities in the far north?" he said seriously. "Do you want to tell them what all the councilors suspect? That the Seven Deserts could be next and all their homes torched and families enslaved?" Rashad shook his head. "No. No you couldn't pay me enough to be that herald. Heck I wish I didn't know half of what I do about it!" He released Farhis from his muscular grip. "Leave it on the shoulders of the councilors and the nobles and the men who have the knowledge to deal with that kind of threat. The peasants are better served in ignorance."

Farhis started to argue, but his friends laughter stopped him. If they thought it was a poor idea… After all they did have a point. Being the crown prince, he had to sit in on many of the council meetings and jury trials of the day. He'd heard many troubling things, often more than he cared to, about the world and it's goings on. Some days it was easier to sneak off with Rashad and Jubair for a lazy afternoon fishing than think about the grain and rice shortages along the east river and the bandit raids along the south caravan.

Maybe their right. Maybe it would just be a waste of resources and time to try an educate people who are happy in their ignorance. He let it slip through his mind, feeling that he was losing hold of something significant for a moment, but giving it up as Rashad let loose a loud whistle and followed his friends eyes.

Across the street, looking at a stand with ripe chickens and but not coming close enough to touch any of them was a shapely, tall young woman with her head uncovered. And what a head! Her hair was cropped short, making it curl into little ringlets in hues of green and blue.

"By Allah!" Jubair said offensively. "What do you think she had to use to get it that color?"

"I don't mind a colorful girl." Rashad said, standing up and giving his muscles an impressive flex. "I even like 'em tall like that."

"You like anything with two hills and a valley." Farhis said sarcastically. Though he had to admit, she was…well…no pretty wasn't the right word. Pretty yes. Exotic, most assuredly. But her features were more striking than anything else. Her large, long lashed eyes were showing keen interest in the woman plucking the chicken with efficient skill.

She had not yet noticed Rashad advancing on her.

"Hello there." He said smoothly, walking up along side her.

Farhis and Jubair watched with interest. It was always a moment of sheer hilarity to see if Rashad was going to slapped or flirted with.

For a moment it seemed as though she was going to snub him outright. But he put himself between her and the vendor and winked. "Say, do you know where there's a camel market?"

"What?" she said, obviously irritated by the inane question.

"Cause I've got a hump to get rid of."

Farhis hid his face in his hands and burst out laughing. "Honestly! Where does he get this stuff?" Jubair just shook his head and continued to watch.

Her face was a portrait of shock and disgust. "Please tell me that the sun in the wretched bazaar has gotten to me and you are a mirage." She said in a deadpan tone.

"No such luck sweetness." He looked up at his friends and gave them a tell tale wink that said very clearly "I'm-about-to-do-something-stupid.-Come-and-watch."

"So my friends over there and I had a bet going that I was hoping you could help us settle." He said moving closer to her. "Mind giving us a hand?"

"If I do will you go away?" she asked.

"Sure."

She sighed and crossed her arms. "Very well. What is it?"

Rashad grinned. "I was just wondering about that pretty hair of yours and ah…" he got in close, but Farhis could read his lips perfectly.

Does the carpet match the drapes?

"Oh my Allah…" Farhis said in half laughter.

They had expected the shocked screech, even the slap. It was par the course for Rashad.

They did not expect to see their friend go sailing across the market commons and into the fountain a good eight feet away. "You little…you…you….ohhhhhhhhh!" She turned on her heel and began moving angrily away from him, muttering curses under her breath.

Jubair went towards their friend, Farhis started towards the girl. He wanted to stop her before she went and told someone about the insult. It wouldn't be the first time Rashad had come face to face with an angry girl's father who thought his daughter's honor had been impugned.

"Wait! Hey there! You with the curls!"

She rounded on him, stopping so short he nearly collided with her. "What do you want? One of that pervert's little friends?" she growled threateningly.

"No! I mean yes! I am his friend I mean." He saw her rear back for a strike and held up his hands defensively. "Easy with those! I've seen men three times your size that can't knock a guy that far!"

"I'm more powerful than I look." She said rigidly. Farhis noticed suddenly that she stood eyes to eye with him. It was a little unsettling. He was tall for his age, but most girls were still a good 6 inches to a foot shorter than he was.

"I'd say so. I just wanted to apologize for my friend. He's a nice guy.. He just likes to show off with pretty girls. That's all." He smiled, that sideways, rakish smile that had soothed angry tempers before.

She looked at him, a light inquisition on her face. "What did you just call me?"

"Huh?" Farhis started. "What?"

"Nothing." She said quickly. "Never mind. It's not important at any rate." She started off and then looked back at him. "You should tell your friend to be more careful. Not every pretty girl out there is what she appears."

He shrugged. "Obviously not." He looked behind him at Rashad shaking himself off as he tried to wring out his cloths. "Hey. Would you like to maybe get some falafel sometime?" he asked, prepared for an answer to go either way.

She eyes the two friends behind him. She face turned to him and she appeared to be ?appraising? him in someway. She made a slight jerk of her head in a yes motion and then shook it. "No. No I don't think that would be a very good idea."

"Hey I promise they don't follow me everywhere." Farhis motioned to his friends. Did she just smile?

"It's not that. I'm…" she gave an annoyed sound. "…betrothed…a little"

Farhis walked towards her. "You should petition the sultan. Parents still have legal right to arrange marriages, but my pare…err…my lords have amended it. Any woman who feels good reason not to marry their betrothed can apply to the courts. If good reason is found…"

"But I don't know if I want to marry him yet. I haven't met him." She was waiting for him to come closer. At the very least she hadn't run off.

"Ugh!" he tried to sound playful. "Than he's probably ugly and lack wit with bad breath. That's the only reason not to show him to you first." He winked, an altogether different wink than Rashad.

She giggled. Not a girlish, playful giggle. But one full of mischief and wicked humor. It made him like her even more. He was so sick of courtiers and princesses with their high pitched, overly feminine giggles. "If he is than I will most defiantly petition to have the engagement annulled."

"And if he is…maybe we can meet up again some time." He said. "When do you meet him?"

"A few days from now."

"Alright than I'll make you deal. If he's ugly and lack wit with bad breath, I'll meet you at that fountain in four days at just after midday." He entreated her with his eyes.

She gave him that appraising look again, like she was trying to discern if he was lying or trying to fool with her somehow. Then, almost shyly, she said. "Alright."

He must have blinked. The sun shined off a piece of jewelry being shown to a prospective customer. When he refocused she was gone. Just the sand in the dirt left where she'd stood.

That's the way it is. The ones that act the strongest are usually the shyest.

"That's not right of you." Jubair said as he caught up with them. Rashad was half undressed, hanging his cloths on a near fence to dry out in the sun.

"What?" Farhis asked, not really listening.

"Your engaged your majesty!" Jubair argued.

"Not really. Only for a year. Maybe not even that long if we're not suited. What am I supposed to pin all my hopes on one girl my parents picked whom I've never even met before?" He made his face expressionless and carefully arched one eyebrow as high as it would go. "That is extremely illogical captain."

"What?"

He shrugged it off. "Genie does it all the time…never mind."

"I'm just saying, your going to be meeting this girl in a few days. And she's the Lord of the Black Sands daughter! Imagine if Mozenrath caught you on a date with another girl while you're supposed to be courting his daughter." Jubair sounded shocked at the possible breech in protocol.

"Ah but what if she's ugly and lack wit with bad breath?" he mused at his humor, his thoughts on the cerulean haired girl.

Rashad laughed but Jubair wrung his head. "It doesn't matter. You have to treat her nicely. Didn't your parents…?"

"I'm just kidding Jubair! Jeez learn to take a joke once in a while." He laid back on the grass.

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