Embarrassment dictated Aloe's following hours. Nesrine and Lulu noticed the urine on her dress and wheelchair, but both of them refrained from commenting on how she had wet herself.
Instead, Nesrine shared the whispers carried by the snake-tongues. In a matter of minutes, the whole palace knew how the three princesses cowled the scribe of commoners into submission. As a guard, Nesrine didn't have more knowledge of the rumors, and Lulu – even if she was a maid – had no knack for gossip.
Aloe only hoped that the rumors stayed at a simple act of bullying, and they didn't portray any more truths about what had happened. Her body was overflowing with shame already and she couldn't handle any more.
Night came in a swoop, though as always, Aloe opted for dining in her office. If there was one day that she didn't want to be in the lunch hall, it was this one.
Morning came as usual and as she entered the audience hall alone, her fellow non-imperial scribes gifted her some looks of worry. They didn't voice it out, but their gazes alone screamed that they had heard of the events.
That wasn't the only immediate change, as once the audience started, Aloe was no longer besieged by Naila's attentive gaze. It was only a guess, but now that the imperial scribe knew the true nature of the scribe of commoners, she seemed to relax as if her concern was no longer needed.
The one who didn't lower its guard was Aloe. She wasn't innocent enough to think her problems ended now that the sultanzade accepted her as a cultivator, if anything, they worsened. She had lost an important card in this game and was no longer dotted with the surprise factor. They knew she was a cultivator, but that didn't mean she was kin – which for the sultanzade was perhaps the greatest foe of all – nor a comrade, but a potential enemy.
There also remained the matter of her vitality. She still had to hide the true extent of her capabilities. Right now, they thought her maximum vitality came from birth, meaning that if that amount suddenly increased… it would mean that she had reaped someone.
The irony wasn't lost on her as both words – rape and reap – were similar.
Sultanzade weren't her allies, yesterday's meeting had only reinforced her thought. Perhaps, well into the future, she could cave in and admit to 'reaping' if just to keep draining her strength from the useless infusions. Her recovery was greatly reduced by the effort needed to keep her vitality hidden.
The audience continued as normal, petitioners kept entering and exiting the hall until no more were allowed by the guards for the day.
Once everyone had been listened to – audiences weren't a surefire way to get imperial assistance – the session was adjourned. Aloe made her way to the lunch hall with mostly everyone, and once she was on the 'big shot' table something finally deviated from the norm.
"S-so," Ruhena started at her side, "m-may I inquire what happened yesterday with Their Highnesses?"
It almost didn't seem that the woman was older than Aloe or a noble as she always was so coyed and shrunk.
"Nothing of importance." Aloe responded taciturnly.
"Are you sure?" The scribe of nobles inquired politely. "I am aware I cannot do much, but I swear you will not find me spreading anything I hear."
The commoner frowned at the noble, making a third scribe step into the conversation.
"Relax, girl," Tamara said. "She said nothing of importance occurred, so do not pry any further."
"I…" Ruhena looked at the old merchant's stern gaze and shrunk. "Understood."
The scribes continued with their meal in silence, but it felt inappropriate to leave it at that, so Aloe gifted Tamara a "Thank you."
"No problem." The scribe of commerce responded with a wrinkled smile. "Though I would recommend following Faizan's advice and talk it out with someone. Anyone."
It took a second for Aloe to understand that Tamara was talking about Ruhena as she had totally forgotten about the noble's house name. But the scribe's reaction to the old woman's words wasn't welcoming.
They aren't your allies. Aloe told herself as she peered at the fellow scribes from the corner of her eyes. Don't act nice now Tamara, if you really were sorry about everything, you wouldn't have broken ties with Mother when Father died, you wench. The memory of how the sickly rich woman had given her a single fajati when her mother died reappeared in the scribe's mind. A single silver coin was all you spared with the death of two of your decades-long associates.
She hadn't pondered about it when she had first arrived at the palace as she was still blind with mourn, but the woman had slithered away from any responsibility with sweet words. I don't need words, I need support! Needed it! Aloe knew she was just placing the sultanzade's blame on the scribe, but that didn't erase the fact that the merchant had left her on her own.
Not long after the conversation, Aloe removed herself from the table and went back to her scribal duties. There wasn't much work to be done – truth be told – as she was up to date with everything, and the only thing that accumulated work was either catastrophes or vacations. The similarities between the two were noteworthy.
But of course, she couldn't maintain the façade of calmness for more than a few hours as someone irrupted into her office.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"Hello there," Fatima announced as she slammed the door open.
Poor Lulu got scared from the fanfare, making her jump as she was watering one of the many pots. She instantly set the watering can away and started drying the spilled water on her knees as the princess strode forward.
"I was not expecting your visit." Aloe lied with the same ease as she infused vitality every waking moment.
"If you were expecting me, then I would have failed as a princess." Fatima took a seat by herself unprompted. "Normally I would have you summoned, but I decided to spare you once for yesterday's upheaval."
"You have my gratitude if that is the case." The scribe showed none of that gratitude.
"Alright, alright." The muscled sultanzade thrashed her hands around. "Let us stop with the formalities, I have no patience for them, and I know words do not work with you. But first, I would like some confidentiality." She gazed at the maid on all four legs. Concretely, her bottom.
It took Aloe a lot of time and willpower to not groan on the princess' face. And even more not to curse. Servants were, after all, mere objects of pleasure for the sultanzade.
"Lulu, would you be so dear to leave Princess Fatima and me alone?" The maid stood up and showed some early reticence, yet nonetheless, she bowed and directed for the entrance. "And please, do not scry. We will know. How about you make yourself useful for once in the palace?"
Harsh the scribe's words were, but a charade wasn't one unless it was equally maintained regardless of the spectator.
"Understood, venerable scribe." Lulu offered another bow to them at the door and closed it behind her.
"Hmm~" Fatima hummed seductively at the sight. "You know, Aloe, being domineering suits you. You should go of your weakness and project more strength, that would get you some more game."
"I suppose that with game you mean reaping targets." The scribe dryly stated.
"Sure." She simply smiled back.
"I doubt Rani would allow me to steal her cattle."
"You jest." The princess chuckled. "Sadina has tens of thousands of inhabitants and only two sultanzade. One more cultivator will make no difference. Make the numbers, a person needs to be reaped tence for them to be depleted. Using maximum reapings per day and two cultivators, that means a hundred-something people per month, make that a thousand and a half for a year."
"That means that in a decade the pastures will not be as green."
"There you are wrong, pupil." Aloe had forgotten about their tutoring relationship for a moment and how much Fatima enjoyed it. At least toying with it. "In a decade there will be thousands more suitable targets. Ripe, untouched fruit ready for harvest."
The cultivator didn't even hide the fact that they treated people – not only commoners but everyone – as a resource. Not in the sense that a general might treat soldiers and manpower as an abstract number instead of lives, but how a farmer counts their harvest. There was a significant difference between abstracted lives and outright objects.
"I have failed my duty as the scribe of commoners if I have forgotten something as basic as demographics." Aloe joked if only to calm her seething rage.
"The balance is delicate, though," Fatima elaborated. "If it were not because a lot of people peregrinate to Asina to meet the Heavenly Descendant in the flesh," the princess emphasized that last word, "then we would not be able to meet the quota as we are dozens of sultanzade in Asina any given time. And Mother already consumes as much as a handful of us."
"I was not aware that Sulnaya was this prevalent."
"In Asina and Sadina? No." The woman admitted. "But the southern emirates, or especially the western ones locked by the Finan Mountains, are heavily religious. Though of course, most of the practitioners of the religion are nomads."
Nomads were a culture that predated most countries, Ydaz included. They were a closed yet paradoxically welcoming community that traveled everywhere, though they preferred the harshness of the Qiraji, for some unknown reason.
They tended to act like faraway merchants, so most people ended up interacting with a nomad or two in their lifetimes if just to buy a foreign bauble. Aloe herself had conversed with a roaming group to prepare herself when she went to the greenhouse for the first time, days after Karaim had died.
"There is also the matter of the prima nocta," Fatima mentioned casually, which made the scribe shudder. "You know which targets do not tend to offer their bodies for sale or occasional lust? Wed people."
Prima nocta was an abhorrent law that allowed the governor of the lands to have sexual relationships with any newlywed on their wedding night. It was usually invoked with women, but the law itself – one which Aloe had studied in detail – didn't specify gender.
"Are you suggesting that this law only exists to reap an untapped market?" Aloe voiced out, doing her best to hide her disgust.
"Dear, I am not suggesting anything. I am affirming it."
"You are quite amused for a law you are not able to invoke yourself." The scribe replied with venom.
The very law specified that only the highest local authority or the monarch were able to invoke it. In this case, only sheikhs, emirs, or the very sultanah could abuse this law.
"Not yet. Not yet." The princess' amusement faded with the commoner's comment. "But it is always amusing seeing Mother claim both the newlyweds for herself. Their confusion is always a spectacle of the highest caliber."
Yet again, the sultanzade remained her that she could never grow a spec of sympathy for them.
"You know," Fatima extended her arm and grabbed the date bowl Aloe had on her desk. It neither surprised nor fazed her that the princess didn't ask for permission. "Demography, religion, and law are a good conversational topic and all, but I'm not here for that." She put a date on her teeth and cracked it with a single munch then ate it. "But I am here for business, Aloe Ayad."
The easygoingness of the woman volatilized, and she finally manifested herself, the ruthless sultanzade she was.
"Do you have the source of our deal?" That was all she said.
"I do." The scribe of commoners searched around the drawers of her desk and took out a corked glass bottle. The container had a floral design, and the glass was of good quality. The presentation wouldn't get her more money, but it would leave the princess pleased, and that was all she needed.
"May I?" Fatima extended her arm and Aloe nodded. The buff woman uncorked the bottle with a flick of her thumb and sniffed the mouth. "Oh~" She moaned and took another sniff. "Yes, that is the stuff indeed. How much I missed it."
Addictive? Aloe pondered. She had not tasted the Grace's Exaltation nectar enough, even during experimentation to grow anything close to an addiction.
"The spicy and sweet smell makes my lips tingle so hard. Oh, heavens, I want to use it right now, I already soaking wet."
The petite scribe maintained her face with a stoicism worthy of Naila, not letting a shed of emotion filter through her visage. The foul mouth of the princess wasn't a pressing issue right now, but her actions were.
"I would rather if you abstained from consummating any affection in my office." Especially if I am the only one who you may use to please yourself.
Aloe didn't tremble at the possibility. Fatima had more vitality than Naila and around the same as Rani, but if there was one sultanzade the scribe believed she could escape their clutches, it was Fatima Asina. After all, the woman had a lot to lose if she pushed herself into Aloe.
"Of course not, this aphrodisiac is meant for reaping, not mindless pleasure. And cultivators do not reap each other."
And what about the nince-damned whore of your mother, huh? Aloe almost cracked the armrest she was grabbing upon listening to the words, and she had been donning recovery meaning her strength had been diminished.