Chapter 3

The first month was difficult only because it felt like it had been nearly half a year. In Persia, time seemed to move more slowly. There was so much to do, so much time to fill, but not enough time to complete all of your tasks. It was clear why Abbaseh and Boran were so eager to engage in games. Nousha kept those girls busy studying the majority of the time. They were smarter, wittier, and more manipulative than the average child.

Yes. Manipulative.

After a few weeks, Xena realized how frequently she was being manipulated by those two. She was ashamed that it had taken her so long to figure it out. Abbaseh's words were very convincing, and she persuaded Xena several times to teach her how to sew. When Xena realized she was being manipulated by a five-year-old, she confronted the princess openly. There was no remorse. At the time, Abbaseh only returned a sly smile. But she had learned her lesson and would now use her manners.

Boran was more difficult to handle. She reminded Xena of Arielle in many ways. Nousha came to mind in other ways. Xena could clearly see Nousha's colors within the young princess. For a four-year-old, that child was exuberant, bright, and very jaunty.

"You're pretty good at that you know," said Xena, leaning into Abbaseh's ear.

The girl surely knew how to knit and she'd probably finish the blanket by the beginning of summer season.

"Neni taught me!"

Neni. Xena didn't realize Neni was an epithet for grandmother until a few days after she arrived. She kept hearing that name, but hadn't asked until she saw Boran run up to Nousha and call her Neni. It was then that she realized these girls were deeply ingrained in Persian culture. They would most likely despise living in Pannonia. Xena wanted to bring up the subject of Arielle returning to Pannonia. But after seeing how different Abbaseh and Boran were from their cousins, she wasn't sure if Pannonia was still on the table.

Xena reclined on the cushions against the suite's back wall. She took careful notes on everything that happened in the room, recording snippets of conversations. Anastasia was sitting on the floor with Nousha, talking. Their exchange appeared to be neither pleasant nor vicious. They were having a serious conversation with one another. The two had simmered over the years, and they could at least have a decent conversation. Gabrielle was keeping Boran occupied on the left side of the room by teaching her how to use a staff. Boran's staff must have weighed as much as she did, but she was unfazed. And Gabrielle was more than happy to demonstrate her abilities to an eager student. Aurora scribbled in the far-right corner of the large gathering space. She was isolated from the others, savoring her solitude and inner thoughts.

There were so many women and young girls in this room. Despite this, they were all unique in their own way. It worked in some way. Their family was a unit, and despite their differences and disagreements, they remained united. They learned how to collaborate. Except for one thing. Arielle.

Arielle was recognized as a ruler, but she was stretching herself so thin that she began to make poor decisions. Xena knew it would happen the moment she said her goodbyes at Pannonia's gates a year ago. Arielle was adored by the Huns, distrusted by the Persians, and despised by the Gokturks. Most importantly, she was missed. A month had passed, and she had broken every promise she had made to spend time with her family.

"Hey, someone wants to show you some new moves," Gabrielle said, bumping Xena's arm.

She blinked, nearly getting lost in her thoughts. She smiled at Boran, who held the lightweight staff. "Alright, let's see it."

Boran twisted her lips clockwise as she twirled the staff slowly. She gripped it tightly between her small palms, all while grunting, struggling to keep the staff afloat. Finally, she made a complete circle with the staff and held it over her head victoriously.

Gabrielle clapped her hands and Xena gave a firm nod of approval.

"Very impressive," said Xena. "I'm sure you'll be swinging that thing in no time with more practice."

"Practice makes perfect," Boran said, climbing onto the cushions to sit in between Gabrielle and Xena.

"Do you know when Arielle is supposed to come back from Estakhr?" Gabrielle asked in a whisper.

Xena shrugged. "All I know is that her meeting with Khosrow probably isn't going too well considering she's been gone for five days."

Abbaseh chimed in while continuing her knitting. "They're arguing again, I'm positive. Amu Khosrow doesn't like it when mom gets involved with politics."

What a precocious child. Xena responded, "why don't you take yourself and your sister over there." She pointed to Anastasia and Nousha's corner.

The two girls walked over to interrupt the conversation with gusto. Anastasia was the first to turn her head, glaring at her mother from a distance. Despite her limited vision, she was able to make out her mother's blurry silhouette. Xena was seen waving her hand and grinning from ear to ear. Fortunately, the girls didn't cause too much of a commotion, and the conversation continued.

Gabrielle reclined on the pillows with leisure. "Abbaseh's sure got a mouth on her!"

"I'll say, but she's right. Khosrow doesn't like Arielle butting in his business. I wish I could sit in on one of those meetings…."

That expression on her face. It was a pensive one, deep in thought. A thought that became a plan when she narrowed her gaze and looked out into the distance. Gabrielle was all too aware of it by this point.

"That isn't going to happen, Xena. We're in Persia now. We follow the rules here."

"Nobody said anything about breaking rules."

"You were thinking about it."

Xena gasped.

"Oh, yeah, you're real shocked," Gabrielle said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, we didn't come all the way up here to be stuck in a palace. I could've done that back in Pannonia. We came here to help Arielle and all she's done is shut us out! And look at poor Aurora. She's been waiting all this time to see Arielle, and she's been cooped up here."

The young princess smiled distantly as her eyes flickered. She must have sensed that she was being discussed. After all, there were only so many topics to discuss in this palace.

Aurora left her writing station on the floor as bells chimed throughout the palace walls. She dashed over to one of the big windows and pressed her hand against the glass. Everyone else in the room looked around to see what was going on outside. Two carriages were escorted by soldiers along the stone path through the palace gates. That was unusual. Aurora remembered her mother leaving in a single carriage. Others in the room started whispering as they noticed the second carriage. Arielle emerged from the first black carriage and was seen directing the soldiers.

A pale hand emerged from the second carriage, and a soldier grabbed it. A woman in black robes and a veil covering her face, exited the carriage. She appeared disoriented and possibly wary of the soldiers around her. She was escorted inside by the soldiers, who trailed behind Arielle, without a second to spare.

Aurora leapt from the pillows and charged through her family. She dashed down the corridor, rounding a few corners. She would have arrived on the first floor much sooner if this damned wing hadn't been so large. The foyer was empty by the time she arrived. She was running down the corridor, her footsteps echoing in the marble palace, when she noticed her mother's black robes rounding a corner.

Her feet carried her as quickly as they could. She had a good idea of where her mother was going. The throne room. Aurora huffed and screeched as she approached the corner. However, it was too late. Just as she entered the throne hall, the doors closed behind her.

In her frustration, she kicked a column. Aurora walked around the frozen soldiers and peered through the mesh-lined windows. Her mother sat on the cushioned dais, legs crossed beneath her, quietly conversing. Aurora wished she could hear what was going on in the room.

Aurora crept behind a column as Xerxes' voice echoed down the corridor. She knelt down and remained silent. Xerxes escorted Gabrielle, Anastasia, and Xena to the throne chamber. Aurora furrowed her brows. Their presence indicated that something significant was taking place. Aurora appeared as all three women entered the throne room, running up to Xerxes just as he was about to leave.

"Xerxes!" she shouted.

He flinched. "Aurora? What are you doing over here?"

Her eyes darted to the chamber. "Who was that woman that came into the palace?"

"You aren't supposed to be in this wing."

"I saw someone come into this palace. Who is she? And why is everyone in there?"

"Aurora, come on." He tried to take her by the wrist, but she flung herself away.

This was not about the visitor who had arrived. It wasn't even a matter of defying orders. Aurora was enraged—enraged that her mother had largely ignored her for the previous month. Xerxes recognized her expression. He'd seen it a few times before. Aurora wasn't a child who frequently expressed her rage, but when she did, everyone knew. He remembered how she smashed everything in her bedroom. And the other time she yelled at Anastasia because she couldn't express herself properly. This moment—right now—was identical. Xerxes had to remind himself that he wasn't dealing with his two sassy daughters. But he knew how to deal with her.

Xerxes grinned, reaching out his hand with a gentler touch this time. Aurora was unlikely to be appeased by a practice session of archery this time. She mentioned that she wasn't very good at archery. Xerxes took mental note of this, but he knew Arielle wouldn't get the hint.

"Our calligraphist purchased a new set yesterday. Do you want to see it?"

Aurora hesitated, crossing her arms. "You aren't going to tell me who that woman is, are you?"

"It's a secret for now. So, the calligraphy set?"


Arielle returned from her meeting in Estakhr with a surprise visitor. But not just any visitor. Yeter, the previously imprisoned Gokturk queen, has been released into Arielle's care. Yeter has been imprisoned in the Persian political prison Anosbord for five years. Since her imprisonment, the entire Gokturk nation has been turned upside down, and there has been nonstop fighting. Her eldest son, Issik, was a greedy prince with a lot of ambition. His younger brothers were now at his mercy, imprisoned in the Gokturk holding, separated from the rest of the family. Now that Yeter had been released, the situation could turn out badly for all parties involved.

Xena stared blankly at everyone and cleared her throat. "What exactly happened in Estakhr?"

"Why the hell is Yeter out of Anosbord?" Anastasia griped.

"What Ana is trying to say is that this seems very sudden. You had no intention on releasing Yeter. She nearly wiped out all of the tribes in the north and west." Gabrielle gave her input, but clearly, Arielle was unhappy with the entire situation.

Arielle massaged her forehead until her skin blotched red. "Shah Khosrow was tired of dealing with Gokturk soldiers invading Anosbord."

"And he thought it was a good idea to release her? She's a war criminal, Arielle," said Xena.

"Wouldn't Eksama also be considered a war criminal? I mean she did blind mother and threaten to kill everybody, after all."

Xena's jaw clenched. She couldn't fight Arielle in this state. She was bound to get angry, and so, she needed to remain calm.

"What's the plan then? What are you going to do with her?"

"I don't know. For now, she will stay in a secluded wing. Heavily guarded!" she added, raising a hand. "Nobody should know that she's here until I figure out a long-term plan."

Gabrielle crinkled her brows. "You aren't even going to tell Oran? That's still his wife." She received three defiant glares. "Legally, I mean."

"Nobody will know."

It was no secret that Yeter despised the family she married into. She never tried to fit in, and until Persia entered the picture, she didn't cause much of a stir. Despite following all of the rules, the moment Shah Khosrow offered her Navaz's land, she broke her agreement with the Hunnic people and Attila's clan. It was impossible to say whether she would have rebelled without Persia's help.

The feud was now emulsifying and would continue unless someone intervened. The three empires were no longer allies, but rather friends who were political enemies. Persia was far too powerful, and Arielle's marriage to a Sassanian had no effect on the two empires' decision to join forces. In fact, it widened the schism.

Xena stepped forward, offering her unsolicited advice. "I think I need to sit in on a council meeting. Khosrow made a bad choice by pitting the Gokturks against us."

Gabrielle instantly agreed. "He didn't think about the consequences and now his decision is impacting his empire. Xena's right. We need to intervene. This has gone on for far too long."

"The council hates me," Arielle stated, bluntly. "Xerxes had to convince his brother to even let me step foot into the room. What makes you think he's going to allow three other women into the room?"

Xena's eyes narrowed. "This is going to get worse, Arielle. If Khosrow knows what's good for him, he'll let us attend a meeting."

"If you want, I can write a proposal explaining why we need to meet with him and the council," Gabrielle offered.

Arielle simply nodded, relieved to be done with this meeting. She didn't want to keep this conversation going any longer than it had to. She just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. The last five days had been more exhausting than she had anticipated, and she needed to remove her monarch hat for a little while.


This day felt never-ending for everyone in the Elam palace, not just Arielle. Many people resorted to having dinner delivered to their rooms as soon as the sun went down. A good night's sleep was required to recharge.

Gabrielle stood in their suite, combing oil through Xena's hair. The routine was very relaxing, and it quickly became a weekly ritual for the couple. She wasn't sure if Xena liked it, but so far, she hadn't heard any complaints. Since their arrival, each suite has had a chambermaid assigned to it, and the maids provide an assortment of hair oils and skin creams once a week. The plan was to use these oils and creams so that they could be replenished once a week. Xena was initially opposed to it, but after a week or so, she grew accustomed to it.

Gabrielle looked down as she sectioned off large sections of her wife's hair to see Xena slathering the cream on her hands and arms. A smug grin emerged, accompanied by a soft hum. So much for not using hand lotions, she reasoned.

"Your skin is looking very soft lately."

Xena smirked. "Yeah? I do have to admit that I didn't think I'd like all of this pampering stuff. But the Sassanian women do have flawless skin. Now I know why. This stuff is like liquid gold." She stretched her hand out, examining it for a moment.

"I could ask to have some sent back home with us…."

Xena swiveled around, peering up at her dubious spouse. "You just want to continue this routine."

"But you like it! I'm sure Nousha wouldn't mind, and Ursula could duplicate the recipe once she figures out what's in the cream. You shouldn't have to stop when we leave Persia," Gabrielle hinted, wiggling her eyebrows.

Xena quirked her mouth, staring at her hands. "Well, it does feel nice…" she admitted softly. She contemplated for no longer than a moment. "Alright, you've convinced me."

Gabrielle's victory was unnoticed. Her wife found it difficult to accept when she liked or even deserved things. She felt a sense of accomplishment that Xena was at least acknowledging that she deserved to be comfortable in her own skin, especially after all she'd done for her family and people over the years.

"But don't think you're off the hook," Xena said. "You'll be doing more of…" she waved her hand mindlessly at her hair. "This…"

Gabrielle caught her lower lip in between her teeth. She knew Xena was being modest. In fact, she always loved tending to her spouse's hair, but it wasn't appreciated; at least not in the conventional way of displaying open gratitude like most people would.

"If you like it so much then I'll continue doing it."

"I do..." She took Gabrielle's hand, squeezing firmly. "…like it. Thank you." she kissed Gabrielle's hand gently.

Gabrielle leaned down, wrapping her arm over Xena's shoulders. She kissed her cheek and felt the curve of Xena's cheek tighten against her lips. Smiling. She was smiling.

"You going to be able to hold a sword with those new supple hands of yours?" she teased.

Xena scoffed and gave Gabrielle's hand a gentle whack.


Arielle was winding down from her five-day excursion on the other side of the palace in her suite. She was too preoccupied with her dwindling thoughts to notice Xerxes walk in. Her breath caught in her throat as he bear-hugged her from behind. He began kissing her on the forehead, cheek, and neck.

Xerxes inhaled the pleasant aroma of her freshly washed hair. It smelled like sage. He examined his wife's reflection in the mirror. She appeared exhausted—so exhausted that she had forgotten about their centennial celebration tonight to commemorate their five-year marriage.

"You remember what tonight is?"

"Hmm?"

"Our…salgard…" he whispered.

Arielle moaned and slapped her thigh angrily. "Dammit. I'm not good at this wife thing. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, we will celebrate another time."

He walked towards the bed and Arielle turned around, staring intensely.

"No, it's not okay, Xerxes. I've been a terrible wife lately. I'm really sorry. I've been so wrapped up with myself and the empire that I ignored us."

Xerxes slipped out of his tunic and smiled at his perturbed wife. "It's alright, Arielle. Seriously. We're both busy." With a change of subject, he began, "Aurora was very interested in the calligraphists' work. I showed her the room where we keep all of our imperial documents and artwork."

Oh, no. Aurora. She felt terrible about 'forgetting' about her own daughter. She had waited for Aurora to arrive in Persia for a long time, and she had also ignored her. She sighed deeply, simply from exhaustion and the weight of family responsibilities on top of empire responsibilities. Everything came to a head, and without hesitation, warm tears flowed. Arielle buried her face in her palms, letting the tears fall freely.

Xerxes finished dressing and came to a halt when he heard his wife's cries. He immediately disregarded everything and knelt at Arielle's feet. He grabbed her wrists and yanked her hands away from her teary eyes. She never bursts into tears. Arielle's make-up did not include tears.

"You are in desperate need of a break," he said, kissing her fingers. "Let me help you, Arielle. I'm here to support you. We support each other."

"But I haven't made time for us—for anyone," she sputtered.

He gripped her hands tightly. "You're a wonderful mother, wife, daughter, sister, ruler, friend. But you can't do it all by yourself. What can I do to help you?"

Arielle lifted her shoulders unknowingly, and the uncontrollable tears streamed down her cheeks in between labored breaths.

It was clear that talking things out in one night was not going to solve anything. Xerxes snatched his wife into his arms and gently placed her into bed. Arielle hadn't even realized she'd been moved from one location to another. He crawled onto the bed and tucked her into the silk sheets, laying down beside her.

"Sleep now. We'll tackle this some other time," he whispered, caressing her coiled locks.


Pannonia

Farah wouldn't realize how much she missed Aurora until she was alone with her sons, husband, and daughter. She wasn't given many responsibilities while Anastasia was in Persia, so she had plenty of free time. Aracsilla was still a child, just shy of seven years old, and she couldn't do certain things with her mother. Farah resorted to forcing her children to study for the time being in order to keep them occupied. It was the only way she could keep them out of trouble.

She was carrying a basket of freshly washed clothes as she walked up the stairs in her house. There were only herself, the chambermaids, servants, and her children in the house, so it was quiet. The growing silence in the house bothered her. Her sons could be up to anything, and she had a feeling they were due to the eerie silence.

She walked into one of her son's rooms and opened the door with her hip. Surprisingly, Aman was writing at his desk. Farah placed the laundry basket on the bed and began sorting through it.

"Gunaydin," the prince announced.

"Gunaydin," Farah replied, smiling. "What are you up to?"

"Math."

She deduced from his rumbled tone that he was dissatisfied with the demanding assignment. She hummed quietly to herself as she neatly folded her clothes into a pile.

"Have you seen your brother?"

Aman scratched his head, glaring at the math problem he'd failed to complete for over an hour. This would be the last he'd see of that problem for now. He flipped the page and began working through a series of shorter problems within seconds.

"He's outside playing with Aracsilla."

Farah gasped. "I hope he knows to be careful with her. And he better be watching her! Maybe I should go look for them."

Aman chuckled and kept writing. "Mother, they're fine. Aladar takes very good of Aracsilla. Trust him."

Her daughter, not Aladar, was the one she didn't trust. Aracsilla was a sweet child, intelligent but not quite as bright as her brothers. Farah had not expected her to be so rambunctious. She had expected Aracsilla to be as well-mannered as her brothers, but that was not the case. That child was outspoken, followed no one's rules but her own, and was full of surprises.

Aracsilla's face, unlike her brothers', was covered in freckles that coated the majority of her nose and cheeks. Though she was born with light eyes, they darkened to a deep green as she aged, complementing her bronzed skin and red-brown hair. In retrospect, she didn't resemble either of her parents. According to Xena, she resembled Csaba's late grandmother, Cera, more than anyone else.

Farah tried not to be concerned about her adolescent son being in charge of her wild seven-year-old daughter. She folded the clothes and walked to the chest by the window to store them. She looked out the window as she rummaged through the chest of clothes when she heard Aracsilla's signature yell. Her head poked out the window, and she smiled as she watched the two siblings engage in swordplay in the courtyard.

"See, mother, nothing to worry about," Aman reiterated.

She gave her son a mocking grin as she looked over her shoulder. He smirked and went back to his arithmetic homework. Csaba was in the training fields with Oran, running horse drills with the soldiers, when Farah returned her gaze to the field. Her smile faded as she remembered her eldest son, who was on a mission near the Byzantine borders.

Yes, Edemen was old enough to go on missions by himself. But did she enjoy it? No. Navaz was supervising him, so he wasn't alone, but she didn't want her son so far away from her. Despite this, she was unable to keep Edemen away from the field. He'd been attempting to flee the heartland since he was a child to help in any kind of war effort. It had been six months since she had last seen him. The border wasn't as far away as Persia, but it was far away enough.

She turned away from the window before she let her emotions get the best of her. Smiling, she walked over to inspect Aman's studies. Good work, she took mental note.

"I was thinking that I should find Edemen a woman to marry," she casually said.

Aman paused and lifted his eyes. "Yeah?"

He was certain that this was another ruse to keep his older brother in the heartland. In the six months since Edemen left home, his mother has mentioned marriage at least four times.

"Well, he is more than old enough, and he's smart," she said, eyeing her son's skeptical expression. "I never see him interact with any women in the tribe! He seems a bit shy."

Aman laughed haughtily. "Mother, I don't think you need to worry about Edemen finding a woman…."

"What do you mean by that?" she questioned, furrowing her brows.

"N-nothing."

"You tell me, Aman."

He huffed and slammed the quill against the desk. He didn't want to tell his mother about his brother, but she needed to know. This marriage discussion was going to go on. He had finally realized that his mother was not going to let it go, and he was certain that his father was sick of hearing about it. But he wasn't sure if either of his parents was aware of Edemen's ability to seduce women.

"He's been sleeping with Sabine for months now," he admitted.

"The chambermaid?!" she screeched.

Aman grit his teeth, regretting his decision, but it was too late now. "Last year, he was with a Frankish girl when he went scouting with Bayan and Oran."

Farah's jaw continued to drop an inch as shock overwhelmed her. She clutched her beating chest, holding her breath.

"The year before that, he slept with one of the girls from the Thracian clan."

He saw the more he spoke, the more pain he inflicted on his mother. There were many others, at least four other young women with whom his brother slept, but he couldn't bear the thought of his mother's pain being prolonged any longer.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he found someone else to—"

"Stop," she interrupted. "Enough."

Aman sank in the chair, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry, mother."

Farah took a deep breath and smiled weakly at her son. As she walked towards the exit, she clapped his shoulder. Aman sat, eerily listening to his mother's footsteps fade away. She didn't say anything or react as horribly as he expected. But her silence was far worse than a scream or an outburst of rage. She was terribly upset.


Csaba returned from training the troops later that night, and he also drank a few glasses of wine with his cousin. According to Farah, Oran was a bad influence. Csaba, on the other hand, had no intention of hanging out with Oran for several hours. He hadn't even realized he'd forgotten about dinner until it was too late. He crept into his wife's bedroom and discovered her eating alone on the floor.

Farah chewed her food slowly, her gaze drawn to her husband's stumbling gait. She surmised he'd had a little too much wine for the evening. She was still reeling from the shocking news she had received earlier, as relayed by Aman, and she had lost her appetite for the majority of the day. As she ate, she found it amusing to watch her husband, who was semi-drunk, try to navigate his way around the room.

Csaba sat down on the floor, smiling grandly. "Hanim," he leaned over the food and kissed Farah's forehead. "It's late, what are you doing…eating at this hour?"

He caressed her cheeks, neck, and shoulder with his lips, nibbling her skin. He trailed his lips down her arm as he removed her dress' s sleeve. Foisting his fingers into her long hair, he then wrapped his hand around her lower back.

She frowned and gently pushed him away. "Stop it, Csaba."

He gave a soft chuckle. "What?" he asked, taking a step back. "I love you."

She fought the urge to laugh at his silly smile. "I'm not going to have sex with you tonight."

"Why not?"

She reasoned that he sounded so disappointed. "I'm just not in the mood. We need to discuss Edemen."

"Edemen? Pft." He guffawed and waved his hand. "He's fine, Farah. Stop being your neurotic self."

She slapped her husband's arm and yelled, "I am not neurotic! We'll talk about this later, when you're not drunk on wine."

"I am not drunk."

Farah raised an eyebrow, spooning rice into her mouth.

"Alright, we can have this conversation now, if you wish," she snarked, setting her spoon into the bowl. "Our son has been globetrotting around, sleeping with more women than I can count on one hand. He probably has a young woman in his bed as we speak. He has completely tarnished the clan's reputation and his title as prince. I don't know of anyone who would want to marry him if this gets out to the public."

Csaba blinked, suddenly feeling the effects of the alcohol set in.

"You're right. I am too drunk for this."

She shook her head. She guessed he wasn't prepared for such news. For the time being, she just wanted to sleep and forget everything she'd heard about Edemen. She felt her husband's hand slipping beneath her dress as she cleared the spread of empty bowls and bowls. Farah turned; her gaze locked on Csaba, and kissed him generously, nibbling his lower lip, while smiling.

She broke away and patted his cheek. "Not tonight."


Elam, Persia

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No."

"Then what are we doing here? I don't want to get caught!"

Gabrielle grabbed her wife's arm and yanked her to the side. Except for a select few, this wing was considered off-limits. Xena, on the other hand, reasoned that since she was a part of this little game, she should be able to see Yeter. Gabrielle didn't want to risk being caught and reprimanded even if they weren't formally barred from entering this wing.

Two soldiers stood guard in front of the room where the Gokturk queen was kept. Xena was well aware that Arielle's soldiers were very loyal. But she'd learned how to make the most of her position in important situations like these. Gabrielle was cursing behind her as she marched up to the guards. Xena smiled at the female soldiers, who looked at her with trepidation and caution.

"Afternoon, ladies. I need to get through," she said promptly.

The guards blocked the doors with their spears.

"Apologies, but the Khagana said not to let anybody in, Khanum."

"Xena, let's just go."

"I am not leaving," Xena snapped. "I talked with the Khagana. She is well aware of me being here. Step aside, please."

These soldiers refused to move and Xena became impatient. She added, "I would hate to tell your Khagana that you went against her. I know that Queen Yeter is inside. I want to talk to her and you're going to let me see her."

Gabrielle couldn't take this charade anymore and grabbed Xena by the arm, pulling her away from the blocked doors. Xena, disgruntled and annoyed, snatched her arm back and glared at her spouse, illuminating her towering figure. This did nothing to intimidate Gabrielle; it hadn't worked in many years and it wasn't going to work now.

"This is wrong, Xena."

"Something isn't right about this, Gabrielle! How could Khosrow release Yeter? Why would he do that? There's something else going on."

"And you should get permission from Arielle to interrogate Yeter. You're undermining her authority and I haven't seen you do something like this in years."


Yeter was not the woman Arielle once knew. For one, she recognized she despised the Gokturk queen ever since childhood, but this was a different dynamic now. They were both monarchs, except Yeter lost her rights the moment she decided to attack neighboring tribes that belonged to the clan.

Arielle now looked at the former queen with pity, rather than the contempt she had harbored for years. Yeter was never regarded as a powerful ruler, but her subjects were devoted to her and trusted her word over Oran's. Prison, on the other hand, was cruel to her. Yeter was much shorter than Arielle had remembered. Her skin tone had faded three shades and her hair had lost its sheen. She had lost a lot of weight, and her eyes were brittle and hard, much like her attitude.

"If your son didn't decide to rise up and attack my land, I would have forgiven you," said Arielle. "But now you're my hostage."

Yeter rolled her eyes. "Stop with the theatrics, Arielle."

"You've been a part of my family for a very long time, Yeter. I could've killed you when I captured you. But I didn't for the sake of your sons."

"Are you regretting your decision?"

Arielle clenched her teeth. "I just want to understand why you did it. Why did you side with the Shah and against us?"

"I don't like you people. I never have."

"You took my father's land!"

Yeter smirked. "It was my people's land first until your father's tribe took it from us."

Remain calm. Arielle met the queen's steely gaze. "How did your people become so powerful? They've tried to invade Anosbord multiple times and nearly succeeded twice."

"You've always thought my people were weak—all of you Huns."

"Foolish. Not weak. Foolish. Your people have made unwise decisions in the past. Nobody ever said you all were weak." Arielle sighed and pulled up a chair. "Yeter, I know you have help. Your army and supplies were depleted by the time I captured you. That was five years ago. Where are the funds coming from? I seriously doubt your son could get an entire empire operating so quickly on his own."

Yeter raised an eyebrow, obviously insulted that it was insinuated her son wasn't fit to rule.

"Where are the funds coming from?"

The Gokturk queen turned her cheek, lowering her eyes. Arielle knew this conversation would go this way. Yeter was refusing to talk, which meant there was a source of money coming from somewhere—not Persia, nor the Avar-Hunnic empire—but somewhere.

Arielle stood up, getting ready to leave. "Eventually, I will have my army step in if Issik continues to create problems. He's not a boy anymore. If he chooses to fight, he will lose and possibly die."

She noticed Yeter's face soften. If she cared about anything in this entire world, it would be her children although Arielle knew that Yeter never regretted her decision to invade, she did know that Yeter missed her sons. Her smallest was just a toddler when she was imprisoned. She missed several years of his life due to her poor decisions.

"You keep thinking about my question. I'll come back another time."


The double doors opened and Arielle stepped out of the room. That conversation was more draining than she realized. She composed herself and was distracted by a pair of voices—arguing voices—from afar. She walked around the corner and found Gabrielle bickering quietly with Xena.

The two paused mid-sentence, gaping at Arielle.

"What are you two doing here?"

Gabrielle exchanged a look of concern with her wife. "Well, you know—"

"Nevermind. I don't want to know," Arielle interrupted. "Whatever it is, I don't care. I have bigger problems."

"What happened?" asked Xena.

"I just talked with Yeter. She's got funds coming in from somewhere. I don't know how, but she's got them."

"Did she admit this?"

"She didn't have to. I can tell she's hiding something from me. Her silence said it all."

Xena crossed her arms. "Arielle, you can't make assumptions."

"Assumptions are all I have to go on right now. Can you two work on finding out more information about this? I'll give you access to the spy division."

Xena gave a tight-lipped smile, peering over at her irritated spouse.

"Tell us more."