Weight of the Crown | Shifting Sands

Blinking, Ros sat up a little straighter, "The king? Hama... We can't even get out of the city. How will we make it to the palace?"

Looking back in the direction Etzla had gone, her expression shifted, "Unless... I had a plan. You, of course, ruined everything by being so frustratingly wonderful, as usual. But I think I might be able to adjust it... If you trust me?"
 
Hama gave her a quizzical look, but he didn't seem perturbed or worried. The man had long grown used to harebrained schemes, the effect of living with Etzla for so long. It was only natural that he would eventually grow numb to such strange machinations, and surely Ros could not be proposing any such one that would be altogether unfeasible.

"Of course, Lady. I am ever at your disposal," Hama assured, doing his best to keep his speaking even and his breaths light. He hated to think how he'd manage to get around the ward tomorrow. No doubt, Tlaloc would give him an earful....
 
Sitting up, she swallowed and considered it for a moment. Would it be worth it? Putting everything... all of them... on the line, just for a chance to get away? It might not work, but if it did, then they could petition the king and their troubles would, with a prayer, be settled. It seemed worth the risk, even if it wasn't necessarily a guarantee.

"...I..." Lowering her gaze, she trailed her thumb absently over the back of his hand, "You can't be mad, because I never actually did it, but I... I was going to have Etzla hire someone... with the money I won here tonight. Someone to kidnap me. I thought it might be the most reasonable way to get out of the city, and I... I planned to write, to tell you I was safe, after a little while."

Biting her lip, she looked up again, a little afraid of his reaction, "...I could do it, still. Just... just to get past the gates."
 
Hama stared at Ros, slack-jawed and blinking slowly as he tried to process what she'd just said. After several moments, he looked down at the table before him with a thousand-yard stare.

"I wish I would have thought of that first. That's actually not a bad idea," he admitted with resignation, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He frowned a bit as he looked up at her and said, "And not... that unfeasible. You did well to ask Etzla of all people, that's-"

The door was suddenly flung open, and Hama jumped to his feet despite his injury, defensively putting himself in front of Ros. At the door, a man who couldn't be too much older than Hama himself stood, a wiry fellow in a loose robe that was open at the front to show a tan, scarred chest. The man's hair was shaved close, his eyes seeming to glitter uncannily, several bodyguards behind him of various sizes and ethnicities, most notably Tlahat'Na athletes who seemed too big for their own skins.

"So, you win again, eh?" the man said. "And with my mark on your neck. You're practically free publicity for me."

Hama's stare was steely, though he did not move.
 
She was thrown, to say the least, by Hama's reaction, and a nervous laugh bubbled up as he continued, her cheeks brighter now. She had been so sure he'd be upset, but his praise gave her a confidence that it could actually work... And knowing Hama was behind her would make it less painful to go through.

As the figure burst in, Rosleigh jumped and when Hama rose so too did the princess, her hand on his arm, cautious, ready to pull him back... To remind him he had already taken enough injury that night.

Her eyes fell to the figure and a brow lifted, as she looked him over. He was impressive, but his words moved her to anger and stepping forward, she frowned, "Your mark. Then you fancy yourself someone of importance?" Holding out a hand, she waited, expectantly, "Princess Rosleigh Baelston of Cain'Loren."
 
Hama felt his heart sucker-punch his throat as Ros stepped forward with a hand outstretched towards the imposing figure in the door. The princess was far too bold by half, and perhaps a life so long lived within a cage made her forget what it was like not to be protected by bars. Or, perhaps, his little bird was finding that she could always just flit away, courageous enough to take a gamble if it meant standing her ground. Either way, it gave him hives, and if Ros hadn't been there, the young man would have been curled up in the corner of the couch trying to prepare himself for whatever hells were in store.

But even Coyotl would not be so stupid as to hurt a princess.

Coyotl looked to his bodyguards with an amused expression, mirrored on the other three's worn faces as they laughed a bit. Coyotl looked back to Ros with a grin, bowing low and long in an elaborate sweep, one leg back and a hand bent to the chest as he lightly held Ros' hand. Hama's blood felt fit to burst from his ears that Coyotl would so freely touch a woman high above his station, but he remained where he stood. Coyotl lifted her hand slightly, just barely brushing the inside of his palm to hers.

"Tanakh Adilya. Otherwise known as Coyotl. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You chose well, apparently! Made a pretty penny. I happened to bet on him too. Even I'm not stupid enough to let my pride turn my eye away from a good investment," Coyotl said.
 
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Ros was bold, but sometimes it happened so abruptly that she wasn't entirely prepared for it and as she realized just what she had done, she felt color bleed into her cheeks, her heart pounding hard against her chest.

Coyotl was cordial, but she didn't doubt for one second it was an act... She had seen the darkness he was capable of. And she wasn't without common sense. But he took her hand and she graciously bowed her head to him.

"That's something you should perhaps know about me, Tanakh. I will always bet on Hama. Whatever the odds." Dropping her hand to her side, she looked the man over, "Now... How can we help you?"
 
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"Help me? Oh, no, no, I am merely here to congratulate the young victor. He is quite good at betting himself, aren't you, Hama?" Coyotl asked congenially, a wide grin on his face. Yet, there was a glint in his eye that spoke of bitter anger, of a hungry need to sate pride, and Hama did not rise to the bait. He took a stiff step forward, putting himself between Ros and Coyotl, and he said, "I try not to make it a habit."

Coyotl laughed a bit after a tense pause, and he stated, "Princess, you know how to pick them, that is for sure. Keep up with us, will you, Hama?"

With that, the crime head gave a friendly smile to both of them, before gesturing to the other three to follow him out. As they did, Etzla passed them by, giving Coyotl a brutal stare-down. Cracking his knuckles as he walked through the door, he looked up.

"You two always seem to get into some kind of trouble. Now - you must be exhausted. How would you like to come to my home?"
 
"What a horribly unpleasant man..." Rosleigh muttered as she watched Coyotl walk off with his men. For whatever courage she had shown, engaging him, there was something about him that was downright frightening. A coolness that suggested crossing him could very well be the last thing a person ever did. For whatever faith Hama had that he wouldn't harm a princess, being what she was, she had no doubt at all in her mind if he wanted to, he wouldn't hesitate...

Reaching for Hama's hand, she gave no qualms about how it might look, and her fingers laced into his to hold him back, but it wasn't necessary. The man was gone, and Etzla returned with an offer that sounded all to pleasant, given the rather uncomfortable circumstances a moment prior.

"We'd better..." She said, nodding to Hama's brother, "Hama needs to rest and have his ribs looked over, and we've got some planning to do." Her eyes flickered up to Etzla and she smiled, "The plan's changed a bit... though perhaps for the better. Oh... and he knows, so... no need to keep it secret from him, though I trust you had no real intentions to, anyway."
 
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Etzla's eyebrows raised, and he looked to Hama with a imploring gaze, leaning forward. Hama winced with a grimacing smile, holding up a hand to wave off Etzla's amused expression. He gripped Ros hand for support as he staggered momentarily, and Etzla quickly raced forward to steady him.

"Well, enough about that. We ought to get going," Etzla admitted, and Hama let go of Ros, giving her a reassuring look as Etzla began to shuffle them out of the room, down towards the alley. The crowd threatened to engulf them in cheers, but Etzla and several strategically placed Gambler's Union men kept them at bay. Etzla had them in a rickshaw quickly, sending off a messenger to report to Omari what was transpiring.

The trip was surprisingly short, bypassing what felt like a few side streets before coming upon an oddly secluded gate leading into a verdant courtyard surrounded by a massive edifice. Etzla opened the gate and led them in, a bubbling spring surrounded by bench seats offering reprieve.

"Wait here while I tell the wives you're here. They'll make rooms for you to stay in. And I won't take no for an answer! You haven't got a chance to be my guest yet, and it's my turn," Etzla professed as he raced off to find his wives.

Hama, meanwhile, slowly levered himself down onto a bench. He was exhausted, but oddly he felt relieved, relaxed in a way he hadn't been in a long while. There was something about Etzla's place - perhaps the greenery.

"I think you'll like his second wife. She's a very sweet woman, and more than likely that is who will attend us," Hama stated. "And Etzla's house is... warmer than the Peacock. Calmer."
 
Moving to sit beside Hama, Rosleigh cupped her hands in her lap, her eyes moving around the magnificent courtyard, following the water in the spring, as it lapped along, before finally shifting to Hama, Several times, she opened her mouth to talk, but closed it again after a moment... So much had transpired in only a short few moments, and she hadn't had much time at all to really process it.

Her gaze drifted to the ribbon, still tied around his wrist, and reaching out, her fingertip brushed the delicate silk, before falling to the bench, "Hama... I feel like... like I should tell you something. But I'm not exactly sure how to say it. The thing is, I've been trying so hard not to, for so long now, that I think maybe I... I've scared the words away."

Chewing anxiously at her lip, she looked into the bubbling water, absently staring at the light that danced across the surface, "Your world here is very different from mine in so many ways. The cultures, the rules... I've been here a few months, and I'm still not sure I quite understand any of it. But I... I know there are... proper ways to do things. Ways that you're rather keen on following. And I would never ask you to go against what you believe is right."

Breathing in, she knotted her hands together again, swallowing down a clump of nerves, "I would, however, be remiss... No..." Pausing, she considered her words again, "No, Hama. I would be devastated, if I did not get the chance to ask if you... W...will you come with me? When I leave? Will you come to the Palace with me?"
 
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Hama at first didn't know quite what to make of the hemming and hawing Ros seemed to be committed to. He felt an unsettling feeling begin in the pit of his stomach - though that could have been the broken ribs as much as the nerves. Yet, there was also a sense of excitement that he rarely felt, a hunger for validation and something else. He dared not put a name to the feeling.

Her question finally came out, and he scoffed a laugh, immediately regretting the action as his ribs protested. He grimaced and shook his head at her in mock disparagement.

"So you had originally planned to leave me behind. And this is how my faithful work is being repaid," he joked. He smiled wearily and said, "We are already in the water far above our heads, Esteemed Lady. We should never be without a chaperone, yet here we are, alone more often than not. I don't see what harm me accompanying you could serve."
 
Smiling delicately, though touched greatly still by that quiet sense of nervous energy, Rosleigh nodded, "I wouldn't have wanted to... But I know how you can be and I... I care far too much about you, Hama, to ever want you to risk your future... Your ambitions on something so uncertain."

Lowering her gaze, she stared at her hands and her breath came in a deep sigh, "The thing is... I rather... Well, I was more hoping that you might want... want to... stay? Oh, goodness."

Rising, Rosleigh folded her arms around herself, her eyes drifting skyward, to the sea of stars overhead, "The thing is, Hama... I'm... I suppose... I'm a bit more fond of you than I ought to be. But I find I don't much care..."
 
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The young physician felt the heat rise in his face as he looked away, trying to contain his thoughts. That the princess had become so candid about her fondness... Well, he wasn't sure what to make of it. He had always been told he could have the pick of the litter if he wanted, being the son of a Curat. Yet, he'd never been comfortable around women, not the way that his brother Etzla was, or any of his other siblings, all of whom lived far and away and dared not deign to have anything to do with him.

What to make of this?

"Wh-what do you mean by 'stay,' Esteemed Lady? You could not... wish to chance remaining in 'Poctaba?" he broached slowly.
 
"That's just it..." Blinking, she continued to stare ahead of her, apprehensive about looking at him, after all had been said, "I... I'm not entirely sure what I mean. All I know, Hama... is that whatever happens, I don't want to be away from you. Not for anything. We have... our lives... have become so complicated and confusing, but this much... this is all that makes any sense to me, at all."

Fiddling with her fingers, she finally turned around to face him, "In whatever capacity you find yourself able, Dear Heart... I would like to be a part of your life. To remain... a part of your life."
 
Hama looked at her with wide-eyed terror, the picture of desolation on his face, yet at the same time his lips were tugged into a smile, as if fear and adoration were fighting within him. He put his hands over his face as he got up slowly, pacing, trying to figure out what to say.

He finally turned to her and said, "Oh... Lady, you cannot mean that. You should not. I - I am a physician. I am-am-am not the sort of man who has prospects for the princess of a country such as yours. I barely have enough for a woman of my own kith! What you are saying - you cannot know what you are saying!"

He gave a nervous chuckle that he quickly regretted, bringing a hand to cup his side. Hama took a large breath and let it whoosh out slowly.

"I... I will stay by your side as far as I can, as long as I can go, Dear Lady, for you have become dear to me, but..."

He opened his mouth and shut it, unsure of how to continue without dashing her hopes, without crushing his own. It was as if saying it out loud made the obstacles real, where once they had been mere phantasms while still within the mind. After all, words had power, names moreso, and to name the problem...
 
Blinking, Rosleigh seemed momentarily torn between emotions, herself, as she studied Hama. His words weren't exactly encouraging, but then, she hadn't expected they would be, entirely. He needed to be cautious - she understood that, knowing his position... knowing her own. She wasn't so out of touch with politics that she couldn't understand what she was asking of him, and she knew well the danger it would put him in to be cavalier with his feelings...

But in the moment, after all that had happened, she couldn't find space inside of her for anything but her own feelings. Feelings she recognized, knew, deeply, now... Feelings that had stirred so long ago, and had only since become embroiled within her. All she wanted in that particular moment was a world where only she and Hama existed... Where rules and propriety didn't matter above matters of the heart.

"...Oh, please. Just for now, please... can you not say it." She asked, and reaching, she took his hands, clasping them in her own, "Please. For a little while, can't we just pretend that it's possible. That anything is possible? I would give up my title, my name... I would give up everything, Hama... for just a moment's time... to believe it was possible."
 
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Hama stood there speechless, for a moment as Ros seemed to lay her heart bare, skirting around the words she wanted so badly to say, unable to for the world that she - and he - inhabited. At one point in time, Hama had considered that in a way the Sunburnt were the luckiest of people in their misfortune, unfettered by the chains of politics, unbidden by the strict laws that governed the lives of the people inside the mesa. They hungered, they thirsted, but their souls were free, and only a few times in his life had he ever felt such freedom.

And this was one such time, and he let it take him away.

He bent forward, ignoring the fire in his side, and pressed his lips quickly to hers for what felt the briefest of moments, for the length of an eefrit's breath. Yet, in that instant, he felt her softness, how light and airy she was, as if she were a being made of smoke and air, an eefrit herself, and how she had managed to steal his heart through his kiss.

Clarity snapped forward in his mind as he realized what he had done, and before he could recoil back, he heard a gasp. He turned his head instantly to see Etzla's club-footed wife, Tzimitl, standing beside his older half-brother, who looked equal parts grave and amused.

"Separate rooms for sure then," Etzla stated. "Come in! Esteemed Lady Ros, this is my second wife Tzimitl. Mitli, this is Princess Rosleigh Baelston of Caen'Loren..."
 
Her breath caught, and for the first time in the entirety of her life, from the moment her condition first became a pressing concern, she couldn't have cared less about the inability to catch air... For Hama was her oxygen, and through him, she could do more than life... she could thrive. Her heart beat in her chest and even when the gasp came from behind them, even when Etzla, with the level of amusement he always seemed to bear in his voice, interrupted, she did not move her eyes from Hama's.

Their world had existed, for just one flickering space of time, but she knew, with all of her heart, with all decided definition, that she could not be satisfied with only that. She would find a way. She had to find a way, to make it all reality. Even if it meant giving up everything she'd ever known. She could not exist in a world where she and Hama could not be...

Turning, her cheeks flushed, she bowed her head to the woman, and after clearing her throat, spoke softly, "...It's very nice to meet you. Thank you for opening your home to us..." Breathing in, she glanced over her shoulder to Hama, and while she said nothing there was a note in her eyes that their conversation was not finished...

When she returned her gaze to Etzla, she smiled, "Lead the way, Etta."
 
Etzla smiled graciously while his second wife looked between the three with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. Hama had his head bowed in embarrassment, his face ashen. Walking slowly so as to keep up with Tzimitl, she guided them through the lavish house. As with all of Hama's family, their furnishings were incredibly intricate, exceptionally well-crafted, and beyond expensive. It was clear Etzla lived in the lap of luxury.

"Your rooms are on the first floor near mine - Etta told me of your condition, Lady Ros - but if there are better accommodations for you, do not hesitate to ask, no matter the time. Hama has his own room on the first floor as well, but he is at the other end of the corridor. The common room is here, and your rooms are down there," Tzimitl said, her round face and body shining in the lamp light as she glanced at all comers.

"I shall leave you here and rouse the girls to gather refreshments. If you need anything else, send Po-ki," she said, gesturing to a brightly colored bird with a massive, black beak that blinked at them and scratched at his neck. Around his foot was a band of brightly colored glass beads. With that, she left them in the common room.

"So, you two have been quite busy. Am I going to have to get you a chaperone?" Etzla chuckled darkly. While the tone of amusement was still there, a minute grain of annoyance resided, in a way that was hard to place. Hama could sense it, the way he sat leaning back, arms out, chin raised.
 
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