Chapter 47: His Test

I stared at the sultan. A quiet disbelieving rage grew inside me. The man's words were still echoing in my head:

I still have no idea how she even tolerates you

Tolerate me indeed! What utter nonsense! She did far more than tolerate me. Jasmine and I had been friends for half a decade! She wanted to marry me because she was in love with me.

He knew that! The damn fool was just trying to provoke me.

And he had! I was thoroughly provoked, but I was not playing his games anymore! The time for careful maneuvering and diplomatic discourse was over.

I did not bother to mask my ire as I said, "Sultan Hamed, what is it that you really want from me?" It was past time we got to the point of today's test.

The sultan's expression shifted and he looked at me like I was the dumbest animal imaginable. "I thought that was obvious. I want the truth, boy."

I returned his scorn right back. "I already gave you the truth," you inconsiderate despot! "Twice."

"You call that the truth?" The sultan sneered. "You must think me a complete nincompoop."

In times such as these, yes, I very much did. However, unlike him, I wasn't a total idiot, so I began, "I don't be-"

But the sultan didn't let me finish. "You may fool my court, boy, but that's because they've never seen you when you're actually happy. Well, I have. I know you were moping about in your office before I dragged you out here today and yesterday, all you wanted to do was to stay at dinner and go to bed on time."

What? "That's not-"

He still wasn't done. "So don't tell me, you're content with your lot just because you're a prince. No one is ever content with their lot. Discontentment is the fuel of life!"

By the end of this little speech, the sultan was gesturing wildly and stomping his foot. He was furious and I realized… "Are you worried about me?"

"Of course, I'm worried about you!" he snapped, "The man my daughter claims to be in love with can't even answer a simple question!"

"I…" I registered this new insult, but my own anger refused to be roused any further.

The sultan was glowering at me. The look in his eyes reminded me of Jasmine. In fact, this whole outing reminded me of something the princess would do. With that thought, things began to slide into place. "Your highness," I began again. "I think I ought to apologize."

"Don't bother," the sultan said peevishly, "Liars are never truly sorry."

I tried not to bristle at this additional and unsubstantiated slight. "I am not lying," I said carefully, "I just did not realize you were trying to cheer me up."

"Cheer you up!" the man puffed up and blustered, "Of all the…No! I'm not trying to cheer you up! I'm here in the middle of nowhere because I'm trying to solve the problem that I've been dealing with for the last two weeks!"

"That problem being?" I prompted with my own version of annoyingly polite judgment. Perhaps I should have been more worried about how red his face was turning, but the angrier he became, the more I was reminded of his arguments with Jasmine. The familiarity of it was somehow calming.

I was halfway to being amused when he exclaimed, "Who, in the name of Allah and all of his disciples, are you!?"

"Your highness, you know that's-"

"I don't mean your title," he snapped, tossing away my first assumption and the conclusion to my unfinished sentence. "That and your real name are a tertiary issue. I mean who are you, the person. I know who Jasmine thinks you are. I know the perfect prince you want the court to see, but I have no idea what you're actually like, and for a possible son-in-law that is unacceptable!"

Oh…

At last, I understood. He hadn't wanted the right answer before. He had wanted my answer. Unfortunately, those were the same thing.

"My daughter," the sultan continued, "for all her smarts, has always been a terrible judge of character. As her father, it's my job to protect her from suspicious suitors. And you have, and continue to be, suspicious and dissembling even out here where there's no one else listening. I've had it up to here with you! Allah so help me, you're either going to give me a real answer to my question or I'll throw you out on your ear come this Saturday. See if I don't!"

At this point, the sultan crossed his arms and tried to look intimidating. The effect was ruined by his heaving chest, his beet-red face, and the fact he was a rotund old man who didn't even come up to my chin.

There was also the issue that I was perfectly aware he was bluffing. When the sultan was this upset, he didn't mean a quarter of the things he said. However, I was still stunned by his speech. It was suddenly obvious that Jasmine's father was more like her than I had originally thought. He had surmised I would not give a candid response to his inquiry if we had an audience, so he had brought us out here to this forgotten place.

I was not used to such consideration. For more reasons than usual, I did not want to disappoint him.

The sultan wanted me to speak without ceremony or guile. Fine. It was not a prospect that I particularly liked, but I could do it. I told myself not to fuss over my wording, expression, or tone. Instead, I just focused on the path ahead of us and spoke.

"I don't like magic," were the first words that came out of my mouth. It was not a completely dreadful start, so I kept going. "I've seen first-hand how destructive magic can be, so the idea of trusting a possibly immoral genie with my deepest desires is…horrifying. And…" I took a deep breath. "I think we both know that. Magic ruined your court and your daughter's life, in particular, Sultan Hamed. Surely, you can't expect me to want to use such a thing?"

At this, I finally met the man's gaze.

The sultan's face was no longer the color of a pomegranate, but he looked far from pleased.

I did my best not to panic. What was said was said. "Sultan Hamed?" I repeated.

"You're no fun," the sultan grumbled.

"Excuse me?" I said, taken aback.

The sultan eyed me. "You took a perfectly good personality-defining question and completely ruined it," He sighed, "but fine. You win, Prince Dhiren. We can table the discussion about magic and wishes since you're so determined to be serious about it."

Me? What about him? Loss of temper or not, he had just threatened to evict me from the palace earlier because he hadn't liked my previous answers! This was true and utter hypocrisy. "Your highness," I began, my annoyance evident.

"Prince Dhiren," he said, interrupting me, "it has taken me 17 days, 26 stories, 5 outings, and 1 threat to kick you out of my home to get you to give me a straight answer. Do you think you can at least stay truthful long enough to answer a few more questions?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm always truthful."

The sultan waved his hand dismissively. "You know what I mean," he said.

I did, but "Being tactful, courteous, and diplomatic is not the same as lying, your highness."

The sultan just raised his eyebrows at me. "Yes or no, Prince Dhiren?"

"Yes," I said. Now, I was outright frowning at him. "I am quite capable of candor."

"Splendid!" he cried, regaining some of his previous cheer. "I'm glad yelling at you had some effect. Now, tell me, why are you taking etiquette lessons at your age?"

My cheeks heated. I hadn't expected him to know about that. Had Jasmine or Vinit told him? Or was he having me watched by someone else? I said stiffly, "I've been very uncoordinated recently." Thanks to my curse. I forced myself to add, "I don't want a repeat of my first night."

If the sultan was satisfied with this answer, he did not show it. Instead, he asked, "And on a similar note, would you like to explain why you are humoring every lowlife in my court?"

There was nothing similar about it, but this, at least, was an easy question. "Because most people, even lowlifes as you call them, have their use," I said. "And some of them are not as bad as the rumors they attract."

The sultan still wanted more. "Why is Jasmine under the impression that you like researching magic, new experiences, and exploring?"

"Because I do like doing those things with her," I replied. "I may not be a fan of magic, but I enjoy research. It's fun."

The sultan considered me. "I really hoped this would help, but I still don't like you," he concluded unhappily.

"Well, I don't like you much either," I replied before I thought better of it. I regretted the words immediately.

The sultan's eyes widened at my impertinence and then he smiled. It was not a friendly smile.

Damn it. This is why manners were invented!

"Sultan Hamed," I began, "I apologize. I did not mean-"

"Oh no, you meant it," the sultan nearly sang, "and it's fine."

His expression said it was not fine.

"We have more important things to discuss," he said ominously. "There is one last question that I wish to ask you. Do try to answer it truthfully."

"Of course," I said, bracing myself. After that slip, I was sure this question would not be pleasant.

"You said before that if you married my daughter, you'd have most everything you could want."

I nodded.

"What exactly does that mean?" he asked. "Why only most? What's missing?"

First, that was three questions and second, I did not have a good answer to any of them, truthful or otherwise.

Most everything had seemed like a decent phrase at the time. It left room for more, if need be, but was there a need? I already had everything, didn't I?

But if that was true, I should be happy. And I was! Despite what the sultan said, I was quite content.

Of course, in theory, and this was all theory and conjecture, I suppose I technically could be more satisfied with my life than I was now. I could remember times when I'd truly felt carefree such as the morning when Jasmine and I became conditionally betrothed, my birthday dinner, countless nights spent with Jasmine in the magician's study and in the gardens, the first night I became human again, or…

I frowned because the next memory was wrong. I had thought of myself enjoying a lazy afternoon with Jasmine in the gardens. That in concept was fine, but I wasn't remembering a time from the last few weeks. The memory was older, meaning I was thinking about being a tiger.

I wanted to throw the notion out. Nothing from my time as a tiger should come close to the joys I had experienced as a human, as a prince. It was ridiculous, a byproduct of the dreams I'd been having lately and nothing more, surely.

It had to be. And yet, my protests only spurred my overachieving mind to conjure up more examples of feline happiness.

It wasn't right. It wasn't…

The sultan saved me from my current spiral of self-induced madness, by saying cheerfully, "Ah. It seems that I have quite stumped you, Prince Dhiren. Perhaps you need a nudge? Does the missing piece to your complete happiness have anything to do with…your brother's throne?"

"What!" I cried. His sudden question shattered all of my other thoughts.

The sultan watched me, appearing perfectly composed. One might even call him blithe. "Your brother's throne," he repeated. "I bet this week's duel brought back a score of memories of your home."

"I…"

What was he saying? He couldn't know anything. No one outside of Mujulaain was supposed to know anything. That day was a state secret, my secret, the climax to the worst week of my life. He had to be bluffing, or perhaps I was misunderstanding him. He had mentioned no specifics, yet the sultan's expression was far from comforting. It gave nothing away.

He couldn't know, but what if he did? What if he banned my marriage? What if he told Jasmine? What if…

I was so lost to my own panic that it took me a while to realize no words were coming out because of my curse and not due to shock. Finally, I managed to cobble together. "I am sure that Crown Prince Kishan will make…a fine king."

"Will he?" the sultan said looking and sounding genuinely curious, but I was sure he was mocking me.

"He will," I said with as much emphasis as I dared. "And I claim no right to his throne. I made my peace with it…long ago," so whatever misguided opinions I may have once held were in the past where they damn well belonged.

The sultan looked smug as he said, "I think that was your most telling response yet. A younger son indeed. I'm glad I thought to ask."

I wasn't. Now that I had my wits about me again, I was certain that the sultan didn't know anything concrete. It just wasn't possible. However, that had not stopped his question from rattling me thoroughly. I needed to change the subject.

Permanently.

"Your highness," I ventured, "if that was your last question, might I suggest we head back to the horses?"

"Head back?" The sultan's eyebrows came together in thought. He turned to look at the path ahead of us. He was clearly thinking about continuing our walk, but after all that had happened, I was more than done for the day.

I took a risk and admitted, "I'm actually quite tired, Sultan Hamed." Tired did not cover it. I felt like I had not slept in weeks.

He turned back to me. "Fine," he huffed, "but only because you really do look dead on your feet. We'll come back here another day."

Hopefully, that day was never. I'd had enough candid conversation with the sultan to last me a lifetime.

The sultan's eyes lit up and I realized I had completely forgotten to mask my expression.

"You know what Dhiren?" he said, "You might finally be growing on me. Just a bit."

I could not exactly say the same. The sultan was a little too astute and mercurial for my liking. Although… "You and the princess have more in common than I would have guessed." Their outward demeanors were very different, but they both were clever and unconventional, valued honesty, and had fiery tempers.

"The same could be said for you and Deschen," the sultan replied. "You remind me of all her worst qualities."

That had to be his weakest insult of the day. My mother's best qualities and her worst ones were one and the same. My response was blatantly flippant. "Queen Deschen has no worst qualities. One could say that all of her attributes are perfectly balanced."

The sultan chuckled. "Yes, that's her alright. I'm sure I only imagined her being a manipulative nuisance that time I…" the sultan launched into another story. To my surprise, it was one I knew. Kadam had told it to me once, though the sultan's version took on a very different tone.

The two of us continued talking as we made our way to the horses, the stables, and finally to the palace. Things felt a little less formal between us now. I made an effort to speak with less ornamentation and the sultan reciprocated by not testing my patience as much. We kept the topics light and pace slow which was good since I had a lot on my mind.

Because I was so preoccupied, I did not realize my crowning achievement for the day until I was sitting in my rooms, having a very late and cold midday meal. As I leaned back and closed my eyes, I was struck by the fact that Sultan Hamed had stopped calling me boy. He'd dropped my title as well. During our sojourn home, I had just been…

Dhiren.

Considering how he had acted before and the princess's own past behavior, I thought this new manner of address was an indicator that despite how tumultuous the afternoon had been, I had passed the day's test. This was a welcomed bright spot among all my darker contemplations and was the last thought I had before I drifted off to sleep with my meal half-eaten.

A/N: All's well that ends well, right? I hope you enjoyed Ren's day out with the sultan, but maybe you've been missing our leading lady? I know I have. We will see her soon, but in the meantime, you can see more of her, Ren, and Aladdin in my prequel fic, Of Rats and Royals. The chapter when Aladdin and Rajah meet for the first time just came out today.

You may have noticed I've been uploading more. Every weekend this month, I plan to upload a chapter of Rajah's Curse. Why?

Because January 15th was Ren's canonical birthday.

Happy Birthday Ren!

I am a little late, but it's the thought that counts, right?

I can't believe it has been a year since Chapter 34. For Ren, it's been less than 3 weeks! At least, time is moving again on this fic though. Look forward to another chapter next week.

See you then!