The desert was known to many as desolate and devoid of anything but sand. One would not guess that it was actually capable of being the home to hundreds of living creatures and a mighty kingdom withstanding the test of time itself. The people that dwelled within this country, named Heliohapt, were well known for their distinctive and attractive looks. They were all born with copper-colored skin and hair as white as snow. Of course, they had never seen the sight of snow even once with their green eyes that mimicked the sun's rays. Their features were obviously inherited from their desert-dwelling ancestors to accommodate the harsh sun and heat exposure. With lean bodies, they were known for the swiftness and flexibility like a snake. In fact, they enjoyed the company of snakes in their homes.
One Heliohaptian man contentedly watched a golden cobra curl around his arm. It flickered its tongue as it writhed around the man affectionately. He was lounging underneath the shade of a palm tree during the heat of the day. Stone walls surrounded him inside a courtyard full of succulents and grasses. A canal had been dug beneath the south wall that poured river water into a shallow pool. Cattails and lily pads sprung up from the pond. A stone bridge had been built to cut across the pond, and it combined with a stone walkway that leads to the main building entrance. On the other side of the bridge, the walkway wove its way through the garden and the west gate. The massive building faced the east to greet the rising sun each morning.
The man leaned his head against the trunk of the tree, gently closing his eyes to block out the sunlight. His day had been busier than usual, running from meeting to meeting and the constant work of paperwork that just didn't seem to ever get done. Taking a break once in a while helped him relax from the stress, especially today. He inhaled deeply and breathed out a satisfied sigh. The thrumming of the locusts lulled him into sleep until he felt a cold splash jerk him awake.
"Wha-" Sputtering, he jumped to his feet, and the bitter scent of wine filled his nostrils.
Howls of laughter brought his attention to behind him. He frowned at the two sweaty young men guffawing with each other while exchanging high fives. His snake hissed in annoyance. Both of them held empty ceramic jars that the Royal family used to store their wine in. The two men were obviously brothers as they were similar in size and stature. Their white hair had the same flip to it in the back while their bangs fell into their eyes identically. However, one of the brothers was clearly older, as his hair was longer than the other, and he also had a long goatee that the younger lacked. He also had strange tattoos on the outer corners of his eyes that looked like tear streaks that reached down to his cheeks in the form of snakes. Both of them weren't wearing their standard attire, only plain white off-shoulder robes, and sandals with their swords strapped to their sides as their only accessory. The brothers must have had sword training, the man thought.
"Well, if it isn't Armakan and young Sharrkan," he growled. He wrung his own white robes that were soaked with wine.
"Hey, I'm a grown man!" The younger brother protested though he was still laughing.
"You should have seen your reaction, Narmes!" Armakan cackled. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he wiped at his tears from laughing.
Narmes couldn't hold back his grudging smile. "What I really want to see is the look on your faces when I get a hold of you two!" He lunged at them.
Sharrkan started pushing his brother's back in the direction of the open gates while shouting, "Let's go! Let's go!"
The two raced across the bridge while Narmes gave chase close behind. He cursed insults directed at the white backs of their heads. His snake seemed to chime in with insults of his own. Armakan and Sharrkan ran close together as they sped through the gates and leaped down the steps that descended into the city.
Armakan chuckled. "I must say, Sharrkan, this must be one of my greatest ideas yet!"
Sharrkan raised his eyebrows at him. "What are you talking about? This was my idea!" They ran around a group of bewildered guards.
"It was mine," his brother corrected him.
"Nuh-huh! And you totally missed him. It was all thanks to me that it worked at all!"
Armakan jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, sending Sharrkan veering towards the side. "How could I miss him when I was three feet in front of him? You're such an idiot!"
"What did you say?" Sharrkan snarled in retort. He attempted a swing at his brother, but he jumped away. Images of palm trees and tall square buildings flashed in his sight as Sharrkan sprinted after his brother, who was now pulling ahead. The throng of the people began to thicken as they headed towards the city's more populated area.
"Whoever makes it to Ra's temple first is the person who came up with the prank!" Armakan challenged over his shoulder.
"You're on!"
Narmes skidded to a halt in the middle of the staircase, chuckling while shaking his head. "Those two are too busy arguing with each other that they forgot why they were running in the first place. Ah well, might as well get cleaned up while I have the chance." He turned around and walked back towards the palace while squeezing alcohol out of his hair.
Sharrkan sped after his older brother. It became harder for him to follow Armakan as he weaved between people. A donkey hauling a cart full of sacks cut in front of the younger brother's path, and so he leaped on top of it and off the other side. He heard the driver yell something at him, and he laughed.
The air was filled with the smell of incense and pipe smoke. The combination of the aromas was intoxicating to Sharrkan's senses, and it invigorated him. His legs moved faster as he dodged civilians wandering around the street. He winked at a group of women carrying baskets on their heads, and they giggled. Vendors on the edges of the main road were calling out sales such as, "Figs! Fresh juicy figs!" Or, "Tilapia half off!"
Armakan's white head was just barely distinguishable from the other Heliohaptians. Sharrkan was gaining on him, and they were about halfway there to the temple of Ra. Armakan unexpectedly swerved to his left and dived into an alleyway, leaving his brother confused. Then he saw a halted camel train halting traffic and the drivers struggling to coax them along. One stubbornly kneeled in the middle of the street, stretching its neck as far as possible as its master pulled on the lead with full length. He decided to follow his brother through the same alley he disappeared into.
Sharrkan ducked beneath the stomach of a camel, and he heard the master shout curses after him. He snickered to himself as he dove into the alleyway and turned his head to say to the driver, "Sorry old-"
Something crashed into him, knocking his breath away, and he let out a loud, "oof!" He heard someone yelp underneath him, followed by a loud shatter.
Now at a complete stop, Sharrkan watched with distaste as Armakan disappeared behind the next corner. He glared down at the person that had cost him his victory over his older brother. The person was facing away from him while squatting in a pile of dampened sand.
They were dressed in maroon robes with a cream-colored headdress. Small pale fingers shakily gripped broken shards off of the ground. Wait, pale fingers? Their bare feet were white as well, even though their ankles and toes were dirtied with dust. Shock and anger filled his entire being. This person was lower than scum compared to him.
"How dare you," Sharrkan snarled in a dangerously low voice. He roughly snatched their arm and forced the person to stand up and face him. His assumptions were proven correct when he saw their face. This person was clearly a woman, and she was clearly a slave: her blue hair and eyes plus the pale skin gave her identity away. At first, she stared blankly at him like she didn't understand what was happening, and then her brows furrowed as she pushed him away.
"Don't touch me, you sweaty, stinky, old lout! Look what you've done!" She emphasized the mess around them.
Sharrkan became even more enraged with the slave woman. No one, especially a woman slave, should ever treat him like that. He began to devise a proper punishment for her behavior when entirely out of the blue, she burst into tears. She spun around and squatted while picking up the slivers of the broken vase. Perplexed, Sharrkan didn't make a move.
"Dirty rotten… Stupid boy… Good for nothing… Why I oughta..." She loathingly muttered in between choked sobs.
Sharrkan was stunned by the way she was speaking of him when he was standing right there. Her actions could get her killed because of his high status. Then it dawned upon him that she didn't know who he was; he was only wearing the clothing of a lowly peasant for training. He had never seen this slave within the palace, so of course, she wouldn't recognize his face right away. Suddenly her crying ceased, and she dropped the shards and pulled on her cream headdress.
"Oh… What am I going to do? This is bad. Very, very, very bad. That was my only…" She let out a quiet muffled scream.
Sharrkan couldn't help but pity her. Slaves possessed very little, and that small mud pot was probably something her family passed down for generations. To him, it was just a cheap little decoration. But to her, it was survival. It carried water from the wells for her to drink. It probably held the river water she used to clean her master's house or supplied the rice for her husband, who was working in the fields. If that vase was lost to her, she couldn't provide for her family. Worst of all, she couldn't work for her master, which would result in harsh punishment. Slaves had to use their own resources, or else their filth may taint the purity of their master's household.
The small slave woman began to meticulously pick each little piece of the vase and fold it inside her cream-colored apron. He could tell that she was just acting out in desperation now. Slaves typically crafted their vases out of clay and sand. Broken, the woman's carafe was now unsalvageable, the remnants were crumbling into dust. He grew aware of the bronze jar that he was still carrying in his arms. He watched the slave women's panicked state, and he knew he couldn't just walk away now. She began to weep again.
"Will you cut that out?" Sharrkan begged her with agitation dripping in his voice.
She sprang to her feet and whirled around to face him, only to stare at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing?" The woman asked him suspiciously as he held the vat out to her.
"Just take it," he sighed impatiently.
"Why?"
"Because I said so," he snapped at her this time.
Her gaze flickered between him and the jar for what seemed like hours. A sudden realization flashed through her mind, and she blanched. She started shaking and her face filled with utter terror. She threw herself at his feet and pressed her face into the sand.
"Please forgive me!" She cried into the ground. "I regret what I said! I'm so sorry-"
"I promise that if you take this jar, I will not accuse you of theft." Sharrkan sighed in exasperation. "There's no need to make a show out of this. Just accept my kindness already!"
She lifted her head and stared at him with a questioning blue gaze. He realized that this woman was actually quite beautiful for being a slave. Her long teal hair that fastened on her front side was sleek and shiny. Her skin, although pale, appeared to be flawless. Long black lashes framed her big eyes that were the color of the sea. Although her tattered clothes were quite plain, she somehow made them look very flattering. He would bet his sword that countless slave masters fought over her ownership.
Very slowly, she rose to her feet. She stared at the vase apprehensively and then gave Sharrkan a dubious look as if to ask, 'Are you sure?' He tried to give her an encouraging nod. She sucked in a breath and held it in as she reached out with trembling hands. Her fingers had just barely touched the cold metal of the vase when she gave him another one of her searching looks.
"Are you being serious? Is this even… Allowed?" She whispered. Her blue eyes searched his own green ones as if she would find the answer hidden in his gaze.
He shrugged even though he was pretty sure it wasn't. But he didn't see why it was forbidden; it was just a harmless act of kindness. "I don't see a problem. Do you?"
Her only reply was a very tiny shake of her head. He almost thought he had imagined it; it was so minuscule. She still didn't make a move to take it from him, but she still just stared at his eyes. It unnerved him in a way because it felt as if she was gazing into his very soul. Strangely, he didn't mind looking at her this closely. Suddenly the sound of footsteps brought their attention away from each other and on the person rounding the corner. He noticed her body turn rigid at the sight of the newcomer.
"Sharrkan, there you are! You made that way too easy. I've been waiting for -" Armakan stopped mid-step and gawked at the scene unfolding before him. He frowned disapprovingly. "Who is this?"
Sharrkan shoved the jar into the slave's hands, and she almost dropped it but managed to grapple for a hold. "Um…" He hadn't asked for her name.
The woman bowed respectively towards his brother. "My name is Yamuraiha, sir."
"I see…" Armakan replied curtly. "Well, I think it is about time you go back to your business."
"Yes, of course." Yamuraiha turned towards Sharrkan and gave him a confused look. "Thank you…" She murmured and, without waiting for his reply, retreated away from him. She ducked her head as she passed Armakan, hugging the decanter tightly in her arms.
Armakan watched her silently through narrowed eyes. When she turned a corner and disappeared out of sight, he turned to his younger brother and gave him a searching look. "What was that about?"
"She had broken her vase, and I was just giving her the empty wine vat," Sharkkan explained defensively.
Armakan came to stand next to his brother's side to speak to him in a quieter tone. "Wasn't that the slave's problem?"
"It was mostly my fault that it broke," Sharrkan shot back in a hoarse whisper. "It's not like we needed the wine caref… We can easily get a new one."
Armakan sighed and gave him a withering look. "You know how uncle feels about us interacting with the slaves. The way she was speaking to you, it was like she didn't even know who you were."
"I know, I don't think she knew that I am a prince…" Sharrkan murmured in his brother's ear.
Armakan nodded in agreement. Then sniffed, "the way she bowed to me, you would think I was a lowly peasant and not the sovereign heir to the throne."
Sharrkan chuckled and patted his shoulder in mock comfort. "Get over yourself."
Armakan ruffled his brother's hair earning a few protests. "Not until you actually beat me at something." He looked up at the sky and frowned. "We should head back so we can be on time for the meeting with Uncle."
Sharrkan gave him a cautious look. "You're not going to tell him… Are you?"
His older brother gave him a long, hard look. "No," he decided. "Just be careful, Sharr…"
"It's not like I was doing anything wrong."
Armakan sighed. "Come on. Let's go home."
The palace meeting hall was filled with tall wooden tables and Heliohaptian officials surrounding them—one larger table than all the rest was placed in the center of the room. The officials around this table were more decorated than the rest, with gold belts and ornate jewelry around their necks. A man standing at the head of the table was dressed in the most impressive attire, with an intricately gold-embroidered purple cloak, a gold nemes headdress holding back his long white ponytail, and a goatee attached to his chin wholly made of gold. Though wrinkles of age etched his face's features, his body was lean and muscular like a twenty-year-old. He squinted at the Papyrus scrolls scattered around the table with his arms folded. An enormous snake curled its body around his waist and flickered its forked tongue. The man's jeweled fingers glinted in the early evening sunlight that came through the open walls facing the west and the east. The flat ceiling was decorated with hieroglyphics that told past kings' tales, and it was supported by a series of pillars. At the enclosed end of the room, a large statue of a man bared a striking resemblance to the same ornately decorated man heading the meeting.
Scribes scribbled away at the scrolls as officials gave out their reports. The room was filled with a hushed buzz from the officials discussing politics. They all turned their heads to the south door that opened with a moan. The man shifted his position impatiently, putting the others in the room on edge. Three men entered the room, shoving each other playfully. They were all similarly dressed as the prominent figure, though to a lesser extent. Their names were remarkably less extravagant. They put their scuffling to a halt when they noticed everyone's attention was on them. The three of them crossed one arm in front of them and the other behind their back as they bowed respectively towards the man. He waved his hand at his officials.
"Leave us. This meeting has come to close." A collective sigh gathered in the atmosphere, and the court cheerfully chattered as they left the room. The three men straightened and came to the older man's side. "Armakan, Sharrkan, Narmes. You're late," he chided.
"My apologies, King Wosret." Narmes apologized while bowing his head. He stood next to the King's left side, and Armakan took the King's right with Sharrkan by his side.
Wosret wrinkled his nose at Narmes. "You reek of alcohol."
Sharrkan and Armakan sniggered, earning a sharp glare from their uncle. They looked away and coughed awkwardly. "When will you three learn to grow up?" The King berated them. "I feel like I'm dealing with a bunch of naughty school children when I'm with you." He regarded Narmes with a cold stare. "I don't care if you have been friends with my nephews since you were toddlers; you need how to interact with the royal family appropriately if you wish to keep your father's position as High Ambassador of Heliohapt."
Narmes hung his head submissively. "Yes, sire."
"And you, Armakan-"
Armakan stiffened at his uncle's tartness.
"-need to actually grow up for once. Remember, you are the one who will inherit the crown once I pass into the next life. So you need to start acting like a king worthy of Heliohapt."
Sharrkan blinked at his uncle in irritation. "Please, Uncle. Don't be so hard on-"
"And you, Sharrkan." Wosret snapped. "Need to do the same as your brother because you might inherit the crown one day if Armakan doesn't choose a wife soon."
Sharrkan was about to retaliate when Armakan held up a hand and sighed. "Can we just drop it? Let's get our meeting started."
Wosret regarded him coldly before giving Narmes a nod. "Very well then. Narmes, carry on."
Narmes perked up immediately. "Right," he said, then began reporting on earlier meetings and current events happening throughout the kingdom. "The farmers had a concern that they will not be able to get any water to their crops this year. Apparently, their old irrigation systems have been clogging up recently. Current reports state that the river's shape has changed recently due to the current's gradual change over the years. As a result, water is no longer reaching the parts of the city where it is needed.
"I see, then we will have to dig new canals for the crops then." King Wosret decided. "We'll send some of the royal construction slaves to the farmlands."
"Shouldn't the job be left to the farmers' slaves?" Armakan asked.
"No, they are needed to work in the fields."
"What about the construction? The new monument to your rule will only be delayed, my King." Narmes pointed out to him.
Wosret pondered silently for a moment before saying, "We'll summon half of the constructions slaves to build the new irrigation systems, and the other half will remain with their workload doubled to remain on schedule."
Armakan frowned. "That sounds risky. We could lose many of our slaves that way."
Wosret shook his head in disagreement. "What does it matter? The canals shouldn't take too long, and so they will only have their workload doubled for a brief period of time. They can handle a little extra work, and they multiply like rabbits anyway."
Armakan didn't argue any further.
"Then we are all in agreement?"
"Yes." Narmes concurred.
Armakan only nodded his compliance with his eyes closed. He had an old habit of shutting his eyes when he was around his uncle as if he imagined himself in his happy place.
Sharrkan didn't say anything, purely because he wasn't listening. When the topic of slavery came up, it reminded him of the slave he met earlier today. What was her name again?... Yamuraiha, that was it. She was strange, that woman. Although all women, in general, were perplexing. But she was definitely different. The way she didn't hesitate to yell at him was just downright rebellious. Even if he wasn't a prince, she could have gotten in serious trouble for the things she said to him. He wondered if her sharp tongue ever gave her master any grief.
His uncle's voice brought him out of his musings. "Sharrkan," Wosret called out in annoyance.
"What?" Sharrkan asked innocently, failing to hide his embarrassment from not listening.
"I asked if we were all in agreement." Wosret reminded him while wrinkling his brows, making his wrinkles crease even more.
Sharrkan attempted an apologetic smile. "For what exactly?" He received aggravated glances from the others. Narmes practically facepalmed.
"Pay attention!" Wosret snapped at him, startling the other three men. "Do you agree to allow half of the royal construction slaves to dig new canals for the crops and the other half stay and double their workload?"
"Um, I suppose so." Sharrkan scratched his head absentmindedly. He wondered if the slave girl named Yamuraiha would be affected by this order.
"There is no guessing when making a decision in the presence of a king," Wosret spat. "Yes, or No? Which is it?"
"Yes," Sharrkan answered right away. His uncle's mood was beginning to spiral downwards, putting the rest of them on edge. The sooner this meeting concluded, the better.
Wosret sighed in frustration while muttering something under his breath. He turned to Narmes, and he made a show of making himself attentive once he realized the King's attention returned to him. "Are there any more reports?"
Narmes studied his notes. "A group of imported slaves arrived a few days ago. That's pretty much it, my Lord."
"I see... Anything to report from you, Armakan? Sharrkan?"
The two brothers shook their heads.
Satisfied, the King nodded his head. "Very well, our private meeting has come to a close. You're all dismissed."
The three bowed to him in the same fashion as before and left their King painstakingly organizing his notes. King Wosret usually wanted to be left alone after his meetings. For some reason, they always put him in a bad mood, and everyone tries to avoid him as much as possible when he is in a bad mood.
Once the two princes and the High Ambassador closed the wooden doors behind them, they simultaneously let out a relieved sigh. Then they all chuckled as they walked down the hall together. Torches burned with incense to brighten the enclosed hallway and to welcome good spirits to protect the palace. Occasionally hieroglyphics would pop up, entailing a historical event of their nation's past. None of them paid any heed to the writings as they passed them.
"It's such a relief to get those weekly meetings over with," Sharrkan sighed dramatically and stretched his arms. "Uncle gets on my nerves when he's like that. Everything I do, he has to criticize me for it."
"It doesn't help that you goad him on," Armakan huffed. He somehow managed to walk around with his eyes closed. Now that's an excellent talent to have, Sharrkan thought to himself. "But I do wish he wasn't so hard on us."
"The King acts the way he does only because he cares," Narmes reminded them. "He thinks of you two as his sons."
"Only because he wasn't able to have any of his own," Armakan sniffed.
"Too many harlots ruined him when he was young, you know when mankind discovered fire?" Sharrkan added, and Armakan sniggered.
Narmes frowned at them. "Which reminds me, don't forget about the royal banquet tomorrow night."
"Why? Are there going to be harlots there?" Sharrkan laughed.
"Just the usual dancing girls. And my little sister is coming as well, Armakan." Narmes nudged him, and Armakan raised his brows at him.
"Is she? I suppose I should say hello then," he replied while maintaining his display of aloofness.
"Hey, come on now, don't be like that!" Sharrkan poked his brother in the ribs grinning ear to ear. "Everyone knows that she has the hots for you-"
"It's quite adorable," Narmes cut in.
"-and she is undeniably attractive. So you should-"
"Honestly, you two are just embarrassing yourselves," Armakan complained while their surroundings brightened.
The dark corridor opened up into a bright commons area with high plafonds. The pillars supporting the roof were decorated with depictions of brilliant sands and mountains, with rich hues of orange, red, and gold. The ceiling itself was one colossal mural of the sun, the creator of Heliohapt. The walls were cut into open archways to allow natural sunlight to stream through. The room was called the Sunroom fittingly. The room had four corridors, including the torchlit hall the three had entered from. Two of them had staircases, one ascending and the other descending. The fourth hallway across from the one the two princes and High Ambassador came through was the grandest of all: the Grand corridor leading to the Royal Throne room. Two heavily equipped guards kept watch at the entrance. Their helmets were the heads of jackals, and their eyes seemed to follow every person's move.
Priests were scurrying around, lighting torches ablaze before the looming night fell. A coal-pit contained hot, bright embers in the center of the room. The priests believed the smoke would calm the nerves and senses and add warmth to the area. Why the priests found adding more heat to a desert welcoming, no one really knew. It was more of a hospitality-concept, and as of right now, several elders were huddled around the pit lounging on bright pillows and rugs. Each of them was smoking long thin kiseru pipes, and Sharrkan's nostrils flared at the scent of pipeweed. They bowed their heads respectively towards the younger princes. Armakan waved his hand dismissively to acknowledge them, and they resumed their chatter. Then he turned and scowled at Sharrkan and Narmes.
"While you two continue to play matchmaker like a bunch of teenage girls, I'm going to head to my bed chambers and get some rest." The oldest prince announced.
Narmes gave him an apologetic look. "Don't be like that-"
"Good night, Narmes, Sharrkan." Armakan waved his hand behind his head as he made his way to the escalating staircase. He ascended up the steps and disappeared behind a beaded curtain.
"He's touchy," Sharrkan commented by his older friend's side.
"We were only teasing. It wasn't like we were serious."
Sharrkan snorted. "He only acts like that because he's the one being serious. I've seen him with a lot of women, but I've never seen a woman make him lose composure like Suma can."
Narmes smirked, and Sharrkan chuckled.
"I think it's time for me to head home. I've been stuck here since dawn," Narmes announced. "Plus, I really want to wash the scent of wine out of my skin, Sharrkan." He added extra emphasis on 'wine' and 'Sharrkan.'
The young prince looked at him innocently. "Say hello to the mother for me… And give Suma a kiss for my brother." Sharrkan made a kissy face, and Narmes sniggered.
"See you tomorrow night."
The Royal banquets were more or less a wild party the royal family threw that was filled with booze, women, and of course, more booze. It was meant as a recognition night for the King and his two nephews. Friends and family of the royals were invited, and the noble families of Heliohapt were welcomed as well.
The party was held in the banquet hall. White shimmery curtains hung from the rafters creating elegant hoops that gave the illusion of clouds. The pillars in this room were ornately painted with cattails and sweet, rejuvenating waters. Water from the River flowed freely from stone floors, creating an indoor pond complete with lily pads and reeds. Music wafted through the dreamlike air, and laughter filled the hall with a glowing warmth. Many imagined that this is what heaven would be like.
The room hushed when King Wosret dramatically entered onto the threshold. He raised a hand, signaling for complete silence. The entire hall obeyed. He was dressed in some of his finest robes, a red cloak, and gold embroidered off the shoulder neckline. Each finger wore a ring, and his chest was blanketed with the jewelry he wore around his neck. His gold nemes and goatee gleamed in the dim light. His white hair glowed, and his copper shone, making everyone present almost believe that he indeed was a god. The King opened his arms in a welcoming manner.
"My brothers and sisters. Sons and daughters. My loyal subjects, we are here this evening to give thanks to the gods. Today marks the twentieth year of my reign and over a thousand years of our great country's existence." Applause and cheers broke out, and Wosret waited a few seconds before raising his hand for silence again. "Furthermore," he continued. "Tonight, we celebrate in the richness of our blessings that we have been granted with. However, I cannot take credit for my rule alone. I have had help from my late brother's sons, the heirs to the throne, and my beloved nephews. I present to you, the princes of Heliohapt. Prince Armakan, and Prince Sharrkan."
Loud cheers and applause erupted in the entire hall as Wosret stepped aside and the two princes entered. Armakan wore a severe expression as he came into the spotlight, and his eyes were shut tight. Sharrkan, on the other hand, beamed at the entire crowd. He seemed to shine when the attention was placed on him. The two were similarly dressed as their uncle, though Armakan wore a royal blue cloak while Sharrkan had a purple one.
Once the clamor quieted down, King Wosret clapped his hands together with relish. "Now, let the festivities begin!"
The music started once more, and servants brought out beverages with exquisite dishes of food. Wosret approached his nephews and embraced them. "I am so grateful to have my nephews here by my side. I think of you two as my own sons," he murmured in their ears.
Sharrkan awkwardly patted his back. "Yeah, yeah. We're glad to have you too."
Armakan didn't say anything, but Sharrkan felt him stiffen next to him. His brother wasn't known to be a touchy-feely person. Wosret suddenly boomed with laughter and turned around while slinging his arms around their shoulders. "Look!" He shouted with joy. "Look at our people. See how joyful they are?"
Sharrkan looked and beheld the party going on around them. Dancers wearing brightly colored robes swirled around the dance floor. People clapped and stomped their feet to the beat of the music. A group of teenage boys was dunking each other's heads in the pond, all coming out dripping wet and grinning. Lovers held hands as they twisted their bodies around each other to the music. Groups of friends lounged on the cushioned benches as they drank, smoked, and sipped their wine. A group of children chased each other around the pillars shrieking with laughter. Sharrkan went beyond them and outside the open windows. Warm lights flickering from the city seemed to dance with the sweet music as well. He imagined that the party wasn't just confined to the banquet hall, but it extended its warmth to the rest of the country. At the moment, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world.
"This," their uncle said. "This is what it means to be the King of Heliohapt: To witness the happiness of your people. Always remember this."
