"Hey, Narmes! Don't get too messed up. I kind of want to see your ugly face around here tomorrow!" Sharrkan called teasingly over to his friend, who was currently being flocked by a group of scantily dressed women. Their breasts were fully uncovered, which actually wasn't an oddity in their country. However, their navels were in danger of exposure, which was considered to be quite scandalous. Many Heliohaptian women weren't embarrassed to show some skin, but others still wished to cover themselves modestly. But even Sharrkan had to admit that these ladies were pushing the limits.

Narmes threw a desperate glance over his shoulder directed at Sharrkan. The panic on his face was clearly visible to everyone around them except the obnoxious women. They began to tug on his clothes flirtatiously, and he mouthed a subtle but clear, 'help me!' Sharrkan laughed as he shook his head. Narmes glared at him with a look of utter betrayal as the women dragged him away in a flurry of bright dresses and a cacophonous fragrance of mingled perfumes. Someone let out a deep chuckle and sat next to Sharrkan.

"He's going to stab you in the back one day because of that." Armakan settled himself on the plush pillows splayed out on the ground. He carried a plate of fire-roasted scorpions. The tail of one stuck out as he munched on it with gusto. He waved the platter in front of Sharrkan, which he declined with a shake of his dead, sipping wine from his goblet.

"It's his own fault that women fawn over freakishly tall men," Sharrkan remarked haughtily.

"Or that being an ambassador is more approachable than a prince," Armakan added somewhat begrudgingly.

His younger brother arched his eyebrows at him. "Jealous?"

Armakan snorted into his own goblet of wine. "As if. It takes a special woman to move me."

Sharrkan smirked at him while sipping more wine. A flutter of movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He watched as a familiar slender woman whirled around the hall to the rhythm of the drums, tiptoeing with feet as light as a gazelle. She was draped in light blush off-the-shoulder robes that were cinched at the waist with a shimmering cloth that ran daintily to the ground. Her attire wasn't as revealing as some of the other women's clothing, but she made it look ten times more flattering. Her long white hair was elegantly braided at the crown of her head and fell into soft waves. Lotus flowers were weaved in between her plaits. Her green eyes sparkled in the dim light as she danced, catching the attention of numerous men. Including Armakan, Sharrkan observed with a smug expression.

Sharrkan gave his brother the most enormous smile possible. "Speaking of your special woman-"

"I think you're drinking a little too much alcohol tonight, Sharrkan. I don't feel like dragging you to your room when you're drunk." Armakan stated hastily.

Sharrkan laughed as he stood up and began dragging his older brother from the ground, making Armakan drop his plate full of scorpions with a clatter. "Don't try to change the subject!"

Armakan turned as pink as the woman's dress as his Sharrkan pulled him to his feet. He began spluttering refusals as Sharrkan started pushing him towards the dancing woman. "What are you-?"

"Just giving you a nudge in the right direction!" Sharrkan chortled. He gave his blushing brother one final shove. "Go dance with Naveah!"

Armakan fell forward and accidentally bumped into Narmes' younger sister. He shot Sharrkan an electric glare, and his younger brother grinned triumphantly back at him. Naveah spun around and smiled at Armakan in pleasant surprise. Armakan softened his gaze towards her and offered his hand. She took it with a slight red tint to her cheeks. Immediately, the attention of numerous nobles and other party-goers swiveled to the oldest prince and the vibrant young woman he was dancing with. Sharrkan could already hear the rumors flying around about his brother and Naveah.

"Who is that girl?"

"Do you think a royal engagement is on the way?"

"I bet they're in love!"

Sharrkan inwardly congratulated himself. There is nothing like watching your older brother sputter and blush like a little boy when he's holding a pretty girl's hand. He watched them twirl around the dance floor. He scanned the room for Narmes in case he was missing the interaction between their siblings. Right on cue, the tall man wobbled into sight, looking mildly disgruntled as he straightened his clothing and ornaments. When he noticed his little sister dancing with Armakan, his mouth dropped open in disbelief. Sharrkan caught his eye and gave him a double thumbs up. Narmes grinned back and nodded in approval before he was snatched away by another tipsy woman.

Before he knew it, Sharrkan managed to find himself a girl for himself. She had straight, short hair and a pretty yellow off the shoulder dress tied at the hips with a gold belt. They lounged on a bench in a less-crowded corner of the banquet hall, tan legs tangling together. They sipped wine together as they flirted with one another. She giggled as he murmured suggestions in her ear. He would occasionally grow aware of the music floating around them, or his uncle's booming laugh echoed through the air, but he was just mostly lost in this woman's company. Through an alcohol-influenced daze, he was distantly aware of brushing his hand in her hair as they kissed. Once they broke apart, he scowled and dumped the rest of his wine in a nearby potted plant when she wasn't looking.

Armakan was right-he might be drinking too much wine tonight. It would be wise for him to stop drinking for the rest of the night before doing anything foolish.

Eventually, Sharrkan grew tired of this woman's presence to the point where he even felt annoyed with her. She kept fluttering her lashes at him when her eyes weren't exactly pretty, in his opinion. He's definitely seen prettier. When she attempted to peck him on the lips again, he decided that it was time to ditch this girl. He somehow managed to dump her with a lonely nobleman he hardly knew. He walked away with a grin and a wave while the miffed girl watched him leave, her mouth hanging open. She gripped her chalice of wine so hard her knuckles turned white.

Sharrkan later realized he hadn't even asked for her name.

Not knowing what to do with himself, Sharrkan decided to wander about the party. He occasionally stopped to chat with some friends or flirt with some women. But his actions were half-hearted. Sharrkan found himself able to show little interest in them. He decided to abandon any attempt to hit-on any more women for the rest of the night. He wandered aimlessly around as he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts.

Why had he reacted the way he did after he had kissed that random girl? Of course, it wasn't out-of-character that he kissed her. He had kissed many girls before. Usually, he had a competition with Armakan to see who could make out with the most girls at parties like this. Now that Armakan was off with a woman he genuinely held feelings for, Sharrkan had no one to compete against. Narmes was entirely out of the question. He wouldn't take part in their game because he "would never disgrace a lady like that." Or so he would say.

Sharrkan supposed that his lack of enthusiasm stemmed from the absence of his brother. Armakan was his best friend, and it saddened him to realize that his brother would soon have someone else glued to his side. Of course, he wanted his brother to be happy no matter what, but coming to terms with the fact that the two brothers wouldn't always be partners in crime was difficult for him to accept.

The booming laugh of Wosret brought him out of his thoughts like a cold splash of water. He jumped when his uncle unexpectedly wrapped an arm over his shoulders. "My youngest nephew doesn't seem to be having any fun tonight!" Wosret hiccuped in Sharrkan's ear.

Wosret's breath reeked of alcohol, and his speech was a bit slurred. It appeared that Sharrkan wasn't the only one drinking too much tonight. It must be a family trait. Though his uncle was obviously far more intoxicated than he.

Wosret began to prod him in the ribs. "Hey, are you listening? Who's that pretty girl that Armakan is hanging around with tonight? Do you think it's too early if I start sending out wedding announcements?"

Sharrkan couldn't help but laugh at his uncle. Just hours before, Wosret was criticizing Armakan for not finding a wife yet, and the moment he's seen with a girl, Wosret is already planning a wedding. His actions were comparable to a meddling, middle-aged mother.

"Geez, uncle. You're much more pleasant when you're not working," Sharrkan teased.

Wosret beamed at him. "Of course! There's no time for jokes when ruling a kingdom!"

The King began to sway, sending Sharrkan staggering underneath him. He thought his uncle would pass out at first, but he realized that the older man was trying to dance in his drunken state. He struggled to steady his uncle underneath his weight.

"But really! Who is she?" Wosret burped.

Sharrkan was actually surprised that his uncle didn't know who she was. Naveah had been in his presence many times, even in the royal court. "That's Narmes' younger sister, Naveah."

At once, Wosret seemed to sober up enough to straighten up and let his arm drop to his side. Sharrkan rubbed his aching shoulder from supporting the drunken King. He noticed that his uncle was staring intently at his brother and Naveah. The two were speaking quietly with each other by an open window.

"The Titi's daughter… Yes, I remember her now." Wosret murmured loud enough for only Sharrkan to hear. "The girl who Armakan grew up with."

"Yeah, but she's had a crush on him for years. Only till recently did he start to take notice," Sharrkan explained with a chuckle. "He's so oblivious-"

"Oh, that simply won't do," Wosret sighed.

Sharrkan stared at him blankly. "What? Why not?"

Wosret tore his gaze from the couple and gave his youngest nephew a sympathetic look. "Listen, my nephew. Marriage is a huge part of the Royal Family."

Sharrkan rolled his eyes. "I know that. You never let me hear the end of it either. It's not like they're that serious-"

"Just listen for once!" Wosret snapped. Sharrkan flinched. His uncle hardly ever grew angry at Royal Banquet. "Marriage plays a far more significant role in our family than others because it decides our future Queen, which ultimately decides the fate of our country. Armakan can't just marry anyone he wishes to."

Sharrkan frowned. "I don't see why not. Naveah is from an influential family, plus her brother is the High Ambassador. Why is she not qualified? Didn't you tell me that my parents were in-love when they married?"

"My brother and his wife were extremely fortunate. Typically, royal weddings are arranged for political reasons and are not based on love." Wosret sighed and gently placed a comforting hand on Sharrkan's shoulder. "Being a part of the Royal Family has its benefits, but we have to sacrifice our own happiness for the happiness of our people when the situation calls for it. It is our duty as the monarchy. I have done it many times myself. I just want to be sure that Armakan is making the right choice when selecting his bride because he will decide the future Queen. I want him to explore all his options first, for the sake of the country. There is a great possibility that there is someone more fitting to take on the role of Queen. This applies to you as well." Wosret's grip tightened on Sharrkan's shoulder. "It is your sovereign duty to do what is best for your people. It is what you were born to do."

Sharrkan only nodded as he watched Armakan reach for Naveah's hand. He gently brought her tanned fingers to his lips and kissed them.


Sweat dripped into Sharrkan's eyes as he parried another one of Armakan's blows. The two brothers were sparring with each other, which was something they regularly did. Only this time, Armakan was swinging his obsidian sword with such ferocity, it even took his younger brother by surprise.

Sharrkan narrowed his eyes. He was forced to handle his brother's swordplay with extra caution. Sharrkan side-stepped and traversed so that his older brother had to change his pace. Their swords clashed countless times, and Sharrkan knew that he needed to end their match before an accident occurred.

Sharrkan pushed forward with all his might and slammed the flat of his blade against the hilt of his brother's, forcing Armakan to step backward. Sharrkan smirked-this was his brother's fatal weakness. With one final thrust, he twisted the hilt of Armakan's sword with his own, sending his opponent's sword flying out of his own hands. Using Armakan's unbalance to his advantage, Sharrkan kicked Armakan's abdomen, making him fall flat on his back. The blacktip of Sharrkan's blade pointed at Armakan's throat. He sighed and raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, what's going on with you?" Sharrkan asked his brother in annoyance. "You're acting careless, and you're usually a more formidable sparring partner than this." He sheathed his sword and helped his brother to his feet.

Armakan dragged his feet over to his fallen sword that had embedded itself in the golden sand. He stooped over and picked it up to examine it for any signs of damage. Satisfied with his examination, Armakan sheathed it in its scabbard. Still refusing to speak to his little brother, he trudged over to the pond and kneeled at the water's edge. Grumbling to himself, he scooped lukewarm water into his cupped hands and splashed it on his face.

It was about mid-afternoon in the courtyard, and Sharrkan's patience waxed thin in the midday heat. "Are you just going to sit there and ignore me?"

Armakan didn't respond. He repositioned his body so that he was sitting cross-legged, facing away from his brother. Sharrkan bit back a sharp hiss of annoyance as he came to sit next to Armakan's side. Something must be really bothering him if he wouldn't even look at him. They sat in silence as Armakan stared at the pond with empty green eyes. Sharrkan tried to come up with anything that would have put his brother in such a depressed mood.

"Was it something that I did?"

Armakan shook his head.

"Did you get in another fight with Narmes?" Armakan and Narmes occasionally got in a disagreement with one another. Both of them would pout like a little schoolboy until they made up.

"No."

Sharrkan scratched his head. A possibility popped into his mind. "Did something happen with Naveah?" Armakan probably hadn't seen her since the banquet, and that was over a week ago.

At the sound of her name, Armakan stiffened and shut his eyes. His thick eyebrows scrunched together, making the snakes tattooed on his cheeks shrink. "Don't even mention her name."

"So something did happen," Sharrkan confirmed. He gazed at his brother sympathetically. "What exactly did happen? I thought everything was going well between you and her."

Armakan's shoulders slumped. "Nope. Not even close."

Sharrkan waited patiently for Armakan to elaborate but grew irritated with his brother when he didn't say anything else. "Are you going to tell me what happened or not?" Sharrkan snapped.

Armakan let out a deep breath while he leaned back on his hands. "Not yet," he chided. "It's still too fresh… Let's just say that things are complicated between us right now."

Sharrkan wasn't very satisfied with Armakan's explanation, but he decided not to pry any further. "All right."

They looked up in surprise when they heard rushed footsteps cross the bridge. Narmes and three other officials were murmuring to each other in urgent, hushed whispers. When Narmes made eye-contact with the two princes, Sharrkan waved him over. Narmes nodded at the other officials before jogging to where the brothers were situated by the pond. His shoulders were taut, and the expression on his face was tense. He shifted his feet restlessly on the ground as if he was prepared to dart away at any moment.

"What's the matter, Narmes?" Armakan asked him curiously.

Narmes looked over his shoulder in the direction of the gates. "I don't have time to stand around and explain. Come with me, and I'll explain the situation to you." Narmes took off in the direction of the gates without even glancing back to see if either of them were following him.

Sharrkan and Armakan shared worried looks with each other before they jumped to their feet and chased after Narmes in hot pursuit. They were leaping down the stone steps that descended down into the city before they were able to catch up with him. Sharrkan could feel beneath his sandaled feet the indents of numerous footsteps that had carved into these steps over many generations.

"Talk to us," Sharrkan urged Narmes.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard yet. It's practically all over the city! King Wosret is furious!"

"We've been training," Armakan explained. "What is going on?"

A vein popped from Narmes's jaw. "The slaves revolted early this morning."

Armakan gasped, and Sharrkan almost tripped over his own feet. They reached the bottom of the staircase and dodged people scurrying around the palace square. Sharrkan had to skid on his feet to change directions when Narmes veered sharply to the left. He realized that they were headed towards the courthouse.

"How many?" Armakan asked, winded.

"At least half of the Royal Construction Slaves. King Wosret says that this is the largest uprising in almost twenty-three years." The three of them ran into a flock of chickens. The birds were sent into panicked disarray, clucking angrily as they scattered to avoid being trampled. Civilians stared at the three of them as if they had gone nuts. "I've been told that a single man rallied them," Narmes added.

Sharrkan widened his eyes at Narmes in shock. "Just one man was able to start the largest uprising in over twenty years?"

He nodded. "When they were informed that half of them would leave to work on the irrigation systems and the other half stay and have their workload doubled, he convinced them to protest."

"Is that where we are headed? To this man's trial?" Sharrkan asked. They rounded a bend in the road into a neat path covered in the shade of palm trees.

"Yes."

Armakan wrinkled his nose in disgust. "This man could be killed for his foolishness," he growled.

"We'll see what happens. This man wasn't born a slave-he was a pirate brought in with the group of imported slaves just a few weeks ago. They may give him a second chance," Narmes explained.

The three men slowed to a halt as they reached the large square building made from alabaster stone. Hieroglyphics that depicted a trial were carved into the outer walls. The shutters of the windows hung open from their hinges to allow light in. The doors had been left ajar. Guessing from the voices coming from the courthouse, the hearing was just about to begin. Sharrkan, Armakan, and Narmes entered the building as quietly as possible to not disturb the meeting.

Inside the courthouse, many highly dressed noblemen and women sat around a large circular ring. They murmured to each other in hushed tones, their identical green eyes impatiently flicking towards the center of the ring, where the flooring dropped into a ditch so that the observers could look down on the interrogated. A barred door carved into the ditch's stone walls led to a small underground jail for the accused to be kept in. Unlike the clean-cut stone flooring where the designated Heliohaptians stood, the ditch floors were made entirely of sand. The purpose of the architecture was obvious: To remind those questioned of their place in society.

A head council member seated on a raised dais motioned the Ambassador and the two princes over to him. They weaved around the other nobles and came to the man. The people whispered to each other as they passed them.

"It's the two Princes!"

"To bother them with such a problem…"

"Did the king send them?"

As far as Sharrkan could see, his uncle was nowhere to be found in the courtroom. This case was most likely not so high up in the system that it required his presence, although Narmes said it had rather upset the King. It appeared that the man on the dais would serve as a judge in Wosret's place during this hearing.

"My two young princes," he said to them while bowing his head respectfully towards them, crossing his arm over his chest. "We did not mean to disturb you with such a lowly slave. Only the High Ambassador is required to be here on the King's orders. You may stay or leave, whatever pleases you."

Armakan and Sharrkan shared looks. They were still hot and sweaty from their training, and they were definitely not dressed to represent themselves as the princes of Heliohapt. However, Sharrkan had never witnessed a trial involving a slave, and this one was extra significant. The man being questioned had influenced the largest upheaval among the slaves in over twenty years. Sharrkan's interest had been piqued, and his curiosity got the best of him.

"I'll just be here to observe," he said to the judge.

Armakan gave his brother a surprised look. Usually, Sharrkan would do anything to get out of taking part in a hearing. "I suppose I'll stay here as well," Armakan stated.

The husky judge nodded his head and motioned for them to sit in the chairs beside him. The barred door opened with a loud groan as Sharrkan took his seat between his brother and Narmes. The tense atmosphere heightened as a slave driver wearing a white loincloth and headcloth came out pulling on steel chains. The nobles leaned forward and glared daggers at the slave as he reluctantly stepped out of the cell.

His skin was lightly tanned, and he was quite muscular. His long dark hair was tied into a low pony tail that fell to the backs of his knees. The slave driver yanked the chains like a leash, coaxing the blue-haired man to stumble into the center of the ring. The slave raised his chin towards the judge, his wrists struggling against the chains behind his back. The judge narrowed his eyes at the slave, which the slave returned with a defiant gaze of his own. The slave was forced down to his knees by the driver, but he never bowed his head nor broke eye contact with the judge. The room fell silent. Cicadas buzzed in the palm trees outside.

The judge and the slave stared at each other for what seemed like ages until the judge finally decided to break the silence.

"Why do you not speak, slave?"

The slave's shoulders tensed. Now that he was closer, Sharrkan could tell that he had been badly beaten. There were bruises and scratches all over his body. There was a particularly nasty gash above his left eyebrow that was still oozing blood.

"Aren't I not supposed to speak until spoken to?" The slave asked in a mocking voice. Shocked whispers erupted from the crowd at his response, but Sharrkan was not surprised by the slave's insubordination. How ludicrous, he thought to himself. He noticed Armakan close his eyes like he was preparing to take a nap. Narmes looked down at the slave through narrowed eyes.

"Given the circumstances, I didn't think that proper etiquette held any meaning to you," the judge replied icily, matching the slave's bitter tone.

The slave said nothing more and just continued to stare at the judge with burning copper eyes. The head judge decided to continue speaking.

"From what I read from the reports," he said. "I understand that early this morning at sunrise, you arrived at the royal construction site with the other slaves. There the architects informed you of the irrigation plan, where half of you would leave, and the rest would stay and have their workload doubled to complete the task on time." He paused and gave the slave a loathing look. "Was that too much to ask?"

"These people were already worn down from the work that they already had." The slave replied in a deadly calm voice. "The ones that would have been forced to stay would have died. So yes, I think it was too much to ask from them."

Sharrkan was perturbed by his comment. Surely the working conditions at the construction site were not that dire? He assumed the work would be challenging, but it would cost Heliohapt immensely to lose so many slaves at once. The slave drivers wouldn't be so unwise to push the slaves past their limits until death, would they?

"So you took it upon yourself to decide what was best for them?" The judge snarled. He stood up and gripped the stone wall, and glared down at him. "I do not think you understand the extent of your crimes."

"And I know that you mighty and great ones-" the slave swept his gaze around the crowd before settling on the judge again. "-understand what you are doing to these people. Do you know what I have seen for just being here for a week? I've seen men drop dead in their tracks. I've seen women be-"

"Enough!" The judge roared, making everyone present flinch. The slave, however, met the judge's challenging gaze without faltering. "I will not listen to any more of your nonsense." The judge continued. "Do you even realize what is at stake here? Slave masters always know what is best for their slaves. In your case, being a Royal Construction slave, your master is the King. Those orders were given by the King, and you have defied him. His words are the law. Your life is hanging by a single thread-"

"I couldn't just watch hundreds of other people on their last leg die! I had to do something!" The slave lost his composure. His slave driver began to push him lower to the ground. "These people are starving, they are sick, and living in constant fear! They live their entire lives in the mud like pigs! None of them have enough to eat or have a place to sleep in the district. I've had countless children come to me for food when even I-"

"Be still, slave!" The slave driver slapped his face. The man fell on his side from the harsh impact.

"The more he runs his mouth, the closer he is to being hanged on the south wall," Sharrkan murmured with a scowl."

The driver gripped the man's ponytail and pulled on it to bring him back to kneeling on the ground. The slave glared at him. "My name is not 'Slave.' I am Sinbad, of the seven seas!"

The driver rolled his eyes at him. "We do not care about your name, slave."

"You are Sinbad the slave now. Or rather, just 'Slave' will suffice." The judge interrupted, but he stroked his white beard, failing to hide his sudden amusement. "You were a pirate, a thief, and a criminal. I say your enslavement was well deserved."

"No one deserves to be enslaved," Sinbad spat.

"You truly do not understand how things work around here," the judge observed. "We give them food, water, shelter, and work. They don't have to worry about anything else. Many of these people would not have a place to live if it weren't for us. They are just slaves to ensure order and stability within Heliohapt."

Sinbad didn't respond and just stared at him with wide eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The judge stared at him hard, and the whole room fell silent with bated breath as they awaited the judge to decide Sinbad's fate.

"Given by your actions, I should condemn you to death. However, you have only been a slave for about a week. You still do not understand the meaning of our ways, and so I will give you a second chance." The entire room erupted in an uproar.

"What is he doing?" Sharrkan hissed. Armakan furrowed his eyebrows together, and Narmes looked like someone had just spit in his tea. "Is that even allowed? By law, this man should be put to death!"

"I have no idea what this man is doing," Armakan said.

"We'll just have to trust the High Councilman's judgment," Narmes grunted, though he obviously disapproved of Sinbad's verdict.

The judge held up his hands for silence, and the room fell into quiet after a few moments. "But I'm not sparing your life without a consequence," he continued. "This shall be your punishment: Forty lashes at the crack of dawn tomorrow—the rest of the slaves at the construction site shall be present and witness the consequences of defying His Royal Highness. After which, the King's orders will be carried out as decreed. This hearing has come to a close." He nodded at the slave driver to take Sinbad back to his cell.

The driver began to pull the slave's restraints towards the cell, but Sinbad jumped forward. "Listen to me! These people are suffering because of the-"

"Do not make me change my mind, slave!" The judge bellowed.

The slave driver was struggling with Sinbad's chains. The judge nodded at some nearby guards. They ran forward and vaulted over the railing into the pit. They grabbed Sinbad's arms as he thrashed around, kicking up billows of sand. One punched him in the gut, and Sinbad wheezed as the wind was knocked out of him.

At that exact moment, Sinbad looked up and caught Sharrkan's eye. The slave glared at him with an intensity Sharrkan had never felt before. His skin crawled. Sinbad spat into the ground earning another brash punch by the guard. The driver and the guards finally managed to drag the slave back into the jail cell. The heavy door swung shut with a loud slam.

The judge turned to the princes letting out a weary sigh. "I apologize for the things you had to witness here today, my princes."

The two brothers didn't reply. Armakan nudged Sharrkan gently with his shoulder.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go home and wash all this sweat off."

Sharrkan nodded and stood up from his chair, grimacing as the wood screeched angrily against the stone tiles.

Narmes stood up as well. "I must go to King Wosret and inform him of everything that transpired here." The Ambassador announced.

The three of them walked past the other noblemen. They stared at them, making Sharrkan feel uncomfortable. When they exited the courthouse, Sharrkan was surprised at how quickly the time had passed. It was almost sundown—the sand gleamed orange in the dark hues of the sunlight. The Royal palace, his home, was nothing but a stark silhouette against the darkening sky.

The three of them traveled back in silence, none of them in the mood for their usual goofiness. The events of the trial had left all of them feeling sullen. Once they reached the courtyard, Narmes bid them a good evening and went to report to the King. Sharrkan walked up the steps of the palace and sat down at the top with a sigh. Armakan leaned against a pillar in the doorway.

"What's the matter?" The older brother asked. "You've never been so quiet this long."

Sharrkan didn't even turn to look at him. "Why have we never been to the district? Why have we never visited the monuments during the Royal Construction?"

Armakan breathed deeply before replying, "It's not our duty to look after slaves. We have more important things to tend to than worry over them daily."

"Are the things that man said true?"

Armakan came to his brother's side and put a hand on his shoulder. "That man wasn't born into slavery, and he has only been one for a little over a week. His new circumstances are rather… Shocking to him, I suppose. He's exaggerating because he is not used to his new surroundings yet. I wouldn't worry about it. Don't sweat the petty stuff, and don't pet the sweaty stuff." Armakan chuckled before leaving Sharrkan to go bathe.

Sharrkan listened to the frogs' croaking in the pond. He knew his older brother was right, but Sinbad's voice wouldn't stop ringing in his head. He knew that the slaves didn't live such a comfortable life as he did, but he didn't think that so many people were suffering like Sinbad claimed. He frowned. Of course, he had never seen for himself the district where the slaves resided or any of the current construction. His interaction with slaves was minimal, so he didn't really know of the conditions they lived in.

Sharrkan watched, unmoving from his spot atop the stairs as the sun steadily dipped below the horizon. He considered going in to bathe as well, but he knew he was still wound up from the day's events to settle down. The stars were just barely starting to twinkle in the sky when he decided to go for a walk in the city.

The frogs and crickets sang their nightly tunes in the calm night air as Sharrkan walked across the bridge, heading towards the Palace Gates. The night was so peaceful. One would never guess that a man was about to get whipped forty lashes in less than twenty-four hours. He stroked the walls of the open gates as he passed them. Hieroglyphics told the tale of many mighty kings of Heliohapt, his ancestry. Armakan will someday be carved into these walls, he realized with a jolt. He descended the grand staircase, watching the city lights flicker to life. The peaceful silence was broken when Sharrkan heard a screech from below.

Sharrkan halted halfway down the steps and beheld the scene occurring in the middle of the city square. Lamps at the bottom of the stairs provided enough light for him to see two palace guards scuffling with two other people. One of the guards grabbed the smaller of the two, a little boy, by his braid and tossed him into the street.

"Hey!" The boy yelped. He ran back towards the brawl and started pulling on their tunic. One of them turned around and leered at him.

"Get lost!" The man snarled. He kicked the kid away and raised his spear up in a threatening manner. The boy cowered.

"Stop it!" A woman's voice pleaded.

The two guards sneered at her. "Are you telling us what to do? It should be the other way around—we'll be the ones telling you what to do."

The two guards chortled. "She sure is pretty... For a slave, that is."

They advanced on the woman. She was carrying something in her arms and wore a long headdress that cast a shadow over her face. By the clothing she and the boy were dressed in, Sharrkan could tell that they were slaves. The woman shrunk back against their advances.

"Let's see more of that pretty face of yours under that ugly piece of fabric." One of the guards sneered.

The woman fought back as he snatched her headdress, but the other grabbed her hands. A bronze decanter clattered out of her hands, and one guard kicked it away. The headdress was thrown to the ground revealing a curtain of long, teal-colored hair. Sharrkan recognized that hair immediately. She was the slave he gave the wine jar to the other day!

One of them whistled. "She is pretty."

"Let's see what else she's hiding under those clothes." The other smirked at her sadistically. "And maybe play around with it."

The boy ran and tried to pull the men off of her. "Stop! Let Miss Yam go!" He yelled while banging them with his fists.

"Aladdin, don't!" The woman cried out.

Without even thinking, Sharrkan started walking down the remaining steps as calm and collected as he could. "Guards," he called in an authoritative voice.

The two instantly jerked away from the slaves, almost knocking the boy over. The woman stood frozen to the spot. The boy ran to her and hugged her protectively around the waist. The guards straightened their clothes and faced the prince in shock.

"Prin-"

"What are you doing?" Sharrkan asked them accusingly. He folded his arms in front of him and narrowed his eyes.

The two guards shared ashamed glances and didn't reply. They gained a sudden interest in their white sandals. Sharrkan stopped a few feet in front of them. The boy tightened his grip around the woman's waist, and she wrapped her hands around his head. Their eyes were bright with fear.

"If you were fulfilling your duty, then you must have been protecting the palace from a little slave boy and woman." Sharrkan scoffed at them, and the two guards dragged their feet in the sand. "But I'm assuming that you weren't doing your job. I don't care what you do with this slave woman. But I do care that you are doing it on the job, in my presence, and in front of the Royal Palace—where the King lives."

The two guards flinched each passing syllable. "We're sorry," they apologized in unison.

"Get back to your posts," Sharrkan growled.

"Yes, sir!" The guards argued with each other as they raced past Sharrkan, leaving him alone with the two slaves. He looked at them, and they backed away under his gaze.

"Miss Yam," the boy said warily.

She carefully studied Sharrkan's face, and recognition sparked in her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed. "It's okay. I think," she said. "This is the man that gave me the vase."

The boy instantly released his grip around her waist. "Really?" He asked with excitement dancing in his blue eyes.

He skipped over to Sharrkan and started to study him, to the woman's mortification. The boy was wearing a small white turban and poofy white rompers. Sharrkan felt uncomfortable as the boy with dark blue hair and eyes looked him up and down. He suddenly seemed to deflate.

"You don't look the same way I imagined you," the boy sighed in disappointment.

Sharrkan felt mildly insulted. "Excuse me?"

The boy brightened up again and started prancing around Sharrkan. "But you must be amazing! You're the one who helped Miss Yam!"

"Aladdin-" Miss Yam called out in warning. She watched Sharrkan like he was going to suddenly attack the small boy.

Sharrkan decided to ignore the little boy's frivolous actions and comments. He directed his attention to the woman. "Why are you out so late?" He asked. "Don't slaves usually go home by now?"

The woman nodded stiffly. "Yes, but we were held back by our master because of the trials today."

"And what were you doing so near the palace?"

The boy immediately stopped his dancing. "I wanted to see it," he murmured.

Sharrkan arched a brow at him. "See what?"

"The palace. I've never been this close before and now seemed like a good time to see it since the streets are empty. But then those two guards came over and..." The boy shuddered.

"I see…" Sharrkan said. An uncomfortable silence followed after his response.

The woman looked around and spotted her headdress lying in the sand a few feet away from her. She picked it up and shook it, making grits of sand fly around. She put it back on her head and turned toward him.

"Thank you for helping Aladdin and me," she began cautiously. "And we'll be leaving now." She looked around her again. "Where's my-"

Sharrkan picked up the bronze vase that had rolled to the foot of the stairs. "You'll be needing this." He walked over to her and handed it to her.

She took it hesitantly like before, their fingers brushing briefly, making Sharrkan's skin tingle. This time she didn't question accepting the wine vat from him. "Um, thank you… For everything." She motioned Aladdin over with her hand. "Come, Aladdin. Let's go home."

Aladdin ran to her side. She pressed her hand in the small of his back, guiding him in the direction of their home. "Bye, Mister!" Aladdin said over his shoulder.

As he watched them leave, an idea sprouted in Sharrkan's brain. "Wait!" He called them.

Aladdin and the woman froze. They turned and watched him nervously.

"I'll escort you to your village." Sharrkan declared.

Aladdin's eyes widened, and the woman looked like Sharrkan had poked her between the eyes. "What?" They asked in unison.

Sharrkan felt embarrassed that he had to explain himself to them. "The city is dangerous at night," he said as he came to stand next to them. "I don't feel like I can just leave you guys alone to fend for yourselves after what I just witnessed."

The two continued to gawk at Sharrkan like he had just sprouted wings and flown away. Finally, the woman shrugged. "Alright," she consented. Though, she looked like she was biting back a different response.

"Really? Does that mean everyone else will get to meet him too?" Aladdin started doing a happy dance again while pumping his fists in the air.

"I suppose so," she sighed. She looked at Sharrkan warily and stiffly turned around, marching deeper into the city.

Sharrkan blinked and matched his pace with hers. Aladdin continued to do his happy dance.

"Come this way!" Aladdin called to him enthusiastically. "Our village is over here!"