D IS FOR DILEMMA
There was this one time when a certain former chief assassin of Sham Lash and Parthevia's very own Venomous Spider Princess decided to conspire against Sinbad and poiso – 'drug' their unknowing king.
Seren narrowed her eyes whilst whisper-talking to Ja'far in one of the spacious parlors of the palace.
Daylight was fading, the people of Sindria were in their final preparations, and there was an oncoming feeling of rush and excitement. The entire country was beginning to get that bubbly, exuberant atmosphere once more.
"It's finally the day of Maharagan." Serendine du Parthevia said the words with venom, whilst cracking her knuckles.
Ja'far nodded grimly, eyes reflecting the red-orange flames dancing in the fireplace, "Yes, and you know what that means."
They looked at each other in understanding and nodded their heads.
"It's ready." The pinkette took out a blood-red potion encased in a small glass bottle.
Ja'far raised a brow, "How long will it last?"
"If the potion works well, he would be knocked out cold for at least fifteen hours, more than enough to get through the Maharagan without him doing something to endanger our lives. Or our reputations, at least." She swirled the liquid in the bottle, eyeing it with brows furrowed.
"Smell? Taste? Texture?"
"All taken care of; it's tasteless, odorless, and perfect to be mixed in a cup of wine. Making the perfect sleeping potion is little bit out of my expertise of poison-making, but it should be fine."
He looked at her expectedly, "Should be?"
"Oh, really, Ja'far? You're actually worried about Sin being poisoned?" she rolled her eyes.
"Woah, you're right. I can't believe I'm still emotionally able to get worried about Sin. That's surprising, considering all my thoughts about him were all filled with 'stupid king' lately." The pinkette laughed at his remark.
"But then again, they don't call you the Venomous Spider Princess of Parthevia back home for nothing." He quirked.
"Aw, you flatter me; I'm really not that much compared to you, ex-chief assassin of Sham-Lash."
He rolled his eyes, "Real funny, Seren. So, you ready to go against our king?"
She nodded grimly, "It's for the benefit of the majority. Let's do this."
She raised a closed fist and shared a fist-bump with the white-haired boy, both turning around to join the festival.
Maharagan.
Now if only Serendine could find out where on Sindria her target actually is, it'd make everything a whole lot easier.
'Considering I have still have to carry this jug of wine with me, this really is going to be an arduous task.'
She first checked through the main gardens, 'His personal playground to access women of all kind.' She thought indignantly, but was surprised to not find him there with numerous ladies gluing themselves to him.
She went around the popular taverns close to palace, but still no purple-haired boy in sight.
Next stop was the dining area of the palace; she scanned through the numerous people, staff, and subjects, but to no success of finding him anywhere.
She scoured through the palace, its surrounding areas, asked the most attractive women in the vicinity if he had recently hit on them, but still to no avail.
She looked at the small pocket watch in her hands, and cursed when she saw the hour hand strike ten in the evening.
'Where is he? We can't have drunk Sin running amok recklessly again.'
She bit her lip, approaching the last room in the palace, on the top-most floor. She decided turning back, because there was no way in hell and in all the Maharagans in the history of Sindria has Sinbad ever decided to enter and stay in his quarters.
But still, she had this nagging feeling on the back of her mind to at least just check the room and be assured.
She paused for a moment to catch her breath, clutching the jug of wine to her chest. 'Running. Is. Hard. This is all Sinbad's fault.'
Serendine took one last deep breath, before composing herself to knock on the wide, mahogany doors.
'Please. Please be here.'
She could swear she nearly heard the angels' chorus when she heard a deep, low voice from the other side of the doors.
"Come on in." there was really no mistaking his voice, and she wasted no time opening the blasted doors and entering the room with red-flushed face from running around.
"Sinbad!" she stated in relief. She watched him slowly turn around as he was facing the balcony when she came in, and noted the slight daze in his expression.
'Uh oh.'
"Well, aren't you happy to see me?" he drawled in a perfect, velvety tone of voice, taking a sip through his goblet of wine, but never breaking eye contact.
'This is not good. He's starting to take on his Casanova self. Ja'far had warned me thoroughly; this is phase 1 of Drunk Sinbad. A phase wherein there should be no one of the female species in the vicinity.'
She warily closed the doors behind her, and tightened her grip on the jug she had on her left hand.
The pinkette stepped forward, "Yes, well, I was thinking of having a toast with you." She faked a huge smile on her face, no doubt noticed by Sinbad by the way he raised an eyebrow at her words, "On, you know, successfully raising and maintaining the Kingdom of Sindria for its 4th anniversary."
She forwarded the jug of wine almost too enthusiastically towards him, "Here, let me pour you a drink."
She walked stiffly towards him, and cursed her legs and entire being for being so obvious and conspicuous.
Before she could pour him a drink, however, he stopped her by gripping her arm firmly.
She slightly raised her head to look up at him, noticing but deciding to ignore their difference in heights, and with wide eyes, asked, "Wha-"
"Did you know that you're awfully bad at lying?"
He was too close all of a sudden. His breath was a mix of alcohol and mint and was, she cursed herself, intoxicatingly sweet. His eyes reflected gold and was filled with something akin to mirth and amusement.
She tried forcing another friendly smile, "What exactly do you mean, Sin?" she tried pulling her arm back, but to no avail, "Don't you want to have another drink?"
She just desperately, desperately wanted this ordeal to be done and over with.
"Alright then, I'll take you up on that." He then leaned back and turned around, heading towards the balcony where the whole kingdom of Sindria and its surrounding seas were bathed in moonlight.
Seren released a deep breath she didn't know she was holding and followed his steps.
She looked up at him warily once more before pouring the red wine slowly onto the chalice, taking care to not let her hands shake.
He took the jug away from her after the wine had been poured, settling it on the flat surface of the stone balcony railings.
She gulped in anticipation as he brought the goblet almost painfully slowly to his lips.
'Just a sip; just a sip is enough.'
All the time he was watching her, and suddenly noticed how her eyes filled with unknown anticipation.
He smiled almost knowingly, and her nerves stilled as he suddenly decided to offer the cup of wine to her.
"Ah, where are my manners? This is a toast after all, milady should have the first drink."
Her heartbeat pound loudly in her ears, and she was left gaping, unable to utter any words.
"Oh, oh no, I possibly couldn't…"
"Hm?"
"Well, it's just that," her eyes desperately flicked back and fro; but her mind was still in some sort of mushy trance.
'Kami-sama, help me.'
He laughed genuinely, and her nervousness turned into slight confusion, "Did you really plan to drug me?"
Her face turned beet red, and that only seemed to confirm his suspicions.
Sinbad looked at her accusingly, but still hasn't lost his teasing manner and tone, "This was Ja'far's idea, wasn't it?"
If she could just command the ground to swallow her up whole, she would.
He laughed once more, edging dangerously close to her again.
She raised the goblet to chest level to stop him from invading her personal space once more, "Stop." She just barely managed to let out, before he did stop and simply stare at her.
Like a predator watching its prey.
"I didn't know you doubted me this much." he whispered, tilting his head in that 'awfully cute, boyish look' he has.
'I can't believe I just used the word 'cute.' Kill me. Just kill me now.'
"I'm sorry, Sin; but 'trusting you' doesn't exist during Maharagan anymore." She sputtered, trying to regain as much composure as possible.
He furrowed his brows, "Why not?"
She gaped at him, "Are you serious?"
He shrugged, urging her to continue.
"Maharagan of '95."
"Maharagan of '95?"
"Yes, Sindria's very first Maharagan. Don't you remember? You seduced a 20-year-old-looking witch, who was, I remind you, 64 years old, and she claimed to be pregnant with your child after 'a night of fiery passion and burning love.'" She finished, quoting the exact words from said woman.
"That wasn't really too bad, was i-"
"Maharagan of '96." She cut him off, "This time, you set your eyes on another village girl. Only that she was a foreign princess who disguised herself and traveled across the seas just to have a glimpse of your face."
"But that wasn't even my fault!" he defended, but she only further glared at him.
"Maharagan of '97. You bet your right arm to a game of beer pong. God, Sinbad; I still cannot convince myself to believe you did that."
He winced, "I did win, didn't I?"
"You lost." She just simply said, glad she was able to break free from his impossibly enchanting stupor a while back.
"And now, today marks the 5th Maharagan. Maharagan of '98. Do you believe we'd just sit still and watch you plunge into another mishap this time?" she pointedly glared at him, hoping to make her point clear across him.
Instead though, he merely smiled at her again.
She swore his smiles were going to be the death of her someday.
"You were drunk all those times, so Ja'far and I set up a plan to one, not let you get drunk, and two, render you catatonic for the duration of Maharagan to ensure complete and total safety."
He chuckled lightly, "Okay, I understand," she sighed in relief, "But you see, the problem is…"
Her eyes widened as he pried the goblet away from her hands.
He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his cool breath tingling her hot flushed skin, "I'm already drunk."
She struggled to push him away with both hands, and he staggered a bit before holding her quaint, dainty fist close to his chest, while his left hand settled the untouched goblet next to the jug of wine.
"You're impossible." She said, earning a mere boyish grin from him.
"I'm aware of the things I've done during the past festivals," he slowly said, surprising her, "And I actually planned for this night to simply pass by with me alone and drunk on the floor..."
He planted a soft kiss on her temple and nuzzled the crook of her neck, planting feather light kisses while she gasped at the contact. His lips brushed slightly against her burning skin as he murmured, "…if it weren't for you knocking on my door."
His touch was so gentle, barely even there, but the sensation she almost shamefully yearned for made her feel as if she was walking through thin ice, about to be drowned by a splash of wonderful gold and purple.
It was unfair, she thought; since he wasn't even doing anything drastic, yet her heart was already threatening to tear its way out of her chest.
She heard about what the women talked about him; how he murmured sweet promises into their ears and slowly rendered them lovesick with every trace and touch of his.
But now, he was barely even touching her; and it was slowly driving her mad how she didn't understand anything; everything was an enigma when she was with him.
It was really unfair how fast she was taken under his spell.
"I should leave." She quietly said, and he leaned back, gazing at her with half-lidded eyes. Now she was unsure if she really did want to just leave.
He held her hand to his chest, smoothing out her palm and entwining his fingers with hers, she could feel his heartbeat, calm and steady; unlike hers – fast, pounding, and desperate.
"Stay the night." His hand ran comforting circles on her back, and he leaned his forehead on hers, "I need you, Seren."
When she heard him say her name, it took almost all of her willpower to refuse.
She looked down and away, still forcing whatever sliver of reason within herself to remain, "You can't seduce me, Sin."
Sinbad merely lifted his hand, and swept strawberry pink locks behind her ears.
If Seren didn't know who the man was and what he was capable of, she would've probably fallen for his charm in a heartbeat, like all the countless women he had.
But she did know exactly who he was. So, she refused.
She absolutely will not give in. She could almost imagine herself sighing.
Sinbad was the epitome of romance and fantasy of every woman her age. One night with him in exchange for eternal damnation. 'Seems fair enough.'
But contrary to popular belief, Sinbad was the worst lover anyone could have.
'His heart would never belong to anyone. His thoughts will never be fully occupied by anybody.'
She was vaguely aware that Sinbad could never, in this lifetime, give her the emotional support she needed and craved for. If she let down her walls tonight, there was no turning back. He wasn't capable of loving her, and she knew that very well. He would move on without her; he would accomplish greater feats, defeat stronger opponents, have his fill of women, and she would be stuck pining for someone completely out of reach.
How silly she was when she proposed marriage to him and thought she could endure his polygamous nature.
And so, with that in mind, she let go; painful as it may be. She stared back at him and sadly smiled.
'I will never be the one.'
Besides, she still had a mission to accomplish, didn't she?
"Sinbad," she started off partly unsure, partly convinced, "Don't you know that seduction is a dangerous, double-edged sword?"
He finally leaned back, and raised an amused brow, "Oh? And how do you know that?"
"Well, I'm not exactly an expert on this game you just love to play," she slowly picked out her words, keeping him distracted with eye contact while her hand slowly gripped the hilt of the wine goblet.
"But as a mere loyal subject and follower, I still have to ask you permission."
"Permission to what?" he asked, and Seren thought for a quick moment how it was such a shame and relief to finally end this.
"To kiss you, Lord Sinbad."
In a split second, she downed the wine goblet, contained the bitter liquid in her mouth, and fisted his robes of white and purple; forcefully pulling him towards her for a kiss that would surely knock him out for the rest of the night.
'Mission accomplished, at least.'
Owari
