Even though it was just her second audience as a scribe – she had just one more under her belt as a spectator – Aloe had already grown used to them. They were slow and tedious, not a lot of things happened unless the emir accepted a petition, which seldom happened. The most stressful part was the beginning when the emir would ask her personal scribes for brief reports. Thankfully, Aloe had been blessed with copious amounts of information after she met with her assistants, Fayruz and Idris.

This audience was also lighter on her body than her first one by virtue alone of having had sleep.

Who would have thought that not staying awake for more than thirty hours would do wonders for one’s focus?

Scribe Nuha was the director of the audience, her voice – though lethargic and tired – carried the potency and authority of the emir perfectly. Aloe believed that she was granted that position because she had no hairs on her tongue and wouldn’t doubt throwing people out if she thought their petitions were stupid.

Rani could have done that herself, of course, but the ruler of the city cussing at her subjects would have hurt her image. Why do so when another person was happy to do so for you? Yes, Nuha may be permanently tired and not exactly amicable, but Aloe could see that the woman enjoyed her little dried outbursts. I guess people get their enjoyment where they can. Considering she enjoyed herself by passing out by thinking too hard about plants, she had no right to blame her.

Before she noticed, the petitioner queue dried up and the emir called the audience off. Nuha was the first to go, but curiously enough, Naila departed with a bit of gait under her step. Tamara was the last one, bowing a farewell. Aloe remained last, not because she had been ordered so, but because the last petitioner involved her, and she was still redacting some notes on her parchment.

As soon as she was finished, she took a step forward to finally visit the feast hall, but like clockwork, the emir called her out.

“Wait.” The sultanzade sang, her voice ever-so-melodious.

Aloe’s heartbeat stopped and she turned to face the buxom woman at the throne. Is it about the events of the bath? She thought with a knot in her throat.

“I’ve heard that you’ve fired an assistant.”

Oh. Aloe instantly deflated inexplicably. Why did that disappoint me?

“Indeed, I have done so, Rani.” She kept her composure and tone diplomatic.

“Can I ask why?” The sultanzade leaned to an armchair of the throne, her body resting on her hand, her hair and regalia pulled down by gravity.

“The assistant I sent away had defied your authority, of course,” Aloe added as a matter of fact. There could be another reason for her to do so, or at least she wanted to make it appear as such.

“Continue.” Rani smiled at her, the expression sending shivers down her spine. That was not a reaction she had planned for or was prepared for.

“First, she intruded my office. Now, that is an offense, but nothing punishable, a remainder would be more than enough. But that was the first of many offenses. Soon she removed her veil of pretense and acted with aggressiveness against my person. That, I can tolerate, it is not the best of working environments to have a rebellious subordinate, but if she did her job well, it could be easily overlooked. Yet the was a worse offense.”

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“She defied my authority.” The emir reiterated amusedly.

Aloe nodded. “She argued – in a very irate tone, may I add – that I should not be the scribe of commoners. If it were to point out my inadequacy in the position, that would be understandable. Scribe Tamara did the same thing when I petitioned for the job. But her tone and words were such that implied that my simple presence in the position was denigrating. And...”

“...Therefore, she undermined my authority because she stated that my decision to put you in such a position was incorrect. Yes, yes.” Rani swayed her hand around derisively. “I have already heard speeches like that before, sweety.” Even if it was an off-hand comment, the usage of the word stopped Aloe’s trail of thought for a second. “I honestly do not care if you fire one or all of your assistants. I only care about results. If you can make all their jobs alone, perfect. Less wages to pay. Otherwise...”

The emir’s eyes turned into daggers, the amethyst reflection skewing deep into the scribe’s body. It took a lot of willpower to keep her mask straight. She couldn’t falter, the weaker she appeared, the more she would look like prey. And there was an apex predator in front of her.

“I assure you our output will not be hindered,” Aloe assured, a hand on her chest. A gesture with more than one reason behind it. “If I become aware of any diminish of results in my department, I will make sure to search for more manpower.”

“Alright.” Rani clasped her hands together and gifted her a smile as she partially occulted it with her hands. “But be careful, you do not possess unlimited funding. I would not like to see that the spending of the scribe of commoners has surpassed its limit.”

“Rest assured; I know how to manage my money.” That sentence sounded way more truthful than any other Aloe had spoken in this conversation.

Aloe remained in place. The silence reformed in the hall, the emir looked at her attentively.

“What are you waiting for?” The sultanzade asked.

“To be dismissed.” The scribe responded politely.

“Are you?” Rani looked at her over the shoulder – a gesture that wasn’t that difficult – and squinted her eyes.

Am I? Aloe blushed. Maybe there was another thing that she wanted to inquire about, even if it wasn’t sensible to do so. But it wasn’t like she had a choice now that she had piqued the emir’s interest.

“Ehm...” Aloe tried to speak but the words died in her mouth, a red tinge growing in her visage. “...Rani?”

“Yes?” The sultanzade inched forward, her body contorting deliciously in a movement too delicate to be spontaneous and unintended.

“You use maids, right?”

“Yes?” Her djinnish smile turned ever-so-slightly confused at the weird questions.

“Even in the bath, ...right?” Aloe’s blush intensified so did Rani’s smile as she understood where the scribe was going with her question.

“Yes.”

“T-then...” Her heartbeat duplicated. I shouldn’t have doubted. I shouldn’t have humored her. I shouldn’t have asked her anything! And her head was a mess. Nonetheless, Aloe pushed forward with her question, there was no turning back. “Then why were you yesterday alone in the bath?”

The emir leaned her back forward even more, the looseness of her clothing revealed as her bosom hung free. Her eyes devoured her, the intrigue had been hammering Aloe’s mind. And now the waited tortured her.

That gaze and smile weren’t of a human.

Rani didn’t instantly respond, instead, she stood up. She calmly strode toward her, it didn’t matter how long her legs were, the pace was slower than a crawl. A slug in a path of salt would have moved faster. Each step resonated in the room as the sultanzade’s heels hit the ground. Each step reverberation growing slightly stronger with each consequent step.

Even if Aloe wanted to look elsewhere, she couldn’t. Their gazes met and she couldn’t shrug off those paired gemstones.

Tac. Tac.

Tac. Tac.

Her breath may not have sped up, but it certainly grew heavier as the steps echoed louder in her mind. It could have been a few seconds or five minutes, she didn’t know. In her mind, there was only one thing: Rani.

Then they met.

Shoulder to shoulder, or rather, shoulder to chest as the sultanzade was way taller than her. Rani arched down lightly until her lips met with Aloe’s ear. The scribe did not dare to turn her head as the warm breath caressed her lobe.

Then she whispered in the most melodiously weak tone possible. “Because I knew you would come to the bath alone.”

Aloe’s mind collapsed, not even processing that the emir was already gone. Only she and her thoughts remained in the room. And she would have preferred to be trapped with hungry snakes before that.