Chapter 9
Rami
Scowling fiercely, I made my way down the hallway. The Sultan’s recent bout of paranoia had tasked me with inspecting all the palace windows for any signs of tampering. His fear? That someone might somehow enter his chambers and steal the Heart of Eternity’s tome.
I tried to reason with him, pointing out the unlikelihood of someone bypassing the added security for Yasmeena’s reveal and scaling all the way up to the fifth floor. And even if someone managed it, they wouldn’t be able to bypass my wards to access the hidden rooms. For a moment, the edges of his delusions had softened as he considered the logic of my words. But just as quickly, his demeanor had shifted back to one of fear.
Obliged to follow his orders, however nonsensical, I methodically inspected each window along the extensive corridors. My frustration mounted—not just from the tedious task—but from the restriction of my powers. With them, I could’ve searched every window in the entire palace within seconds. But with the bustle of guests and staff, the risk of revealing my nature as a genio fae was too great.
I’d been bound in servitude to the sultans of Nephria since childhood, a time when owning a genio fae was not only legal, but a symbol of affluence and power amongst the elite. The establishment of the Aetherian Council, however, changed everything. Tasked with ensuring the protection and rights of every individual across the realms, the Council transformed what was once a sign of prestige into a severe transgression.
Yet, instead of securing my freedom, these new regulations turned me into the sultanate’s most closely guarded secret. Even the royal children were kept unaware until deemed mature enough to bear the weight of such knowledge. To navigate this changed universe, Sultan Ghazi’s great-great-grandfather devised a solution: I would masquerade as an elemental fae with an allegiance to Nephria. It was a clever ruse that forced me to serve in plain sight while allowing them to exploit me behind closed doors without facing repercussions.
No matter my irritation, I moved from window to window, the Sultan’s paranoia making me acutely aware of the watchful eyes around me. My every movement was deliberate, ensuring nothing I did could hint at the reality of my existence.
His insistence that his treasures were at risk from unseen adversaries reminded me of the impostors. Ever since my fa?ade shattered in the dining hall, I’d kept my distance from everyone, wary of further losing my composure. For centuries, I was an impenetrable fortress, my emotions engulfed by an endless void that rendered me numb to my wretched existence.
Yet a golden-eyed beauty, no doubt a common thief, had dismantled them in an instant. This feeling of vulnerability was new and unsettling, as if the ground beneath me had turned to sand, leaving me floundering for stability.
Two hours later, my frustration had morphed into seething anger as I navigated down the hallway, head down, pace brisk, eager to evade further delays. On the second floor, a maid who”d mistaken my polite nod for interest had eaten away the last of my patience with her incessant chattering. Luckily, the adjusted schedule for Yasmeena’s reveal meant this side of the palace was empty, leaving me free to use my powers.
Upon entering the library, however, my expectation of privacy vanished; someone was in here. I stormed between the shelves toward the first window, my annoyance ticking higher with every step. Who would choose the solitude of the library over the day’s activities? Turning the corner, my steps faltered, and I swiftly retreated into the shadows. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm so fierce I feared it might escape my chest.
Despite my best efforts, it seemed inevitable that she would be the one in here.
Completely engrossed in the book on her lap, the golden-eyed beauty had her legs tucked beneath her, loose tendrils of hair spilling in a cascade of curls over her shoulders. Silver pins sparkled across the side table, as though hastily discarded in her eagerness to remove them, and delicate silver slippers lay forgotten by the chair”s base.
She turned a page, her intense concentration marked by her furrowed brow and pursed lips. Despite having no reason—or right—to interrupt her solitude, a tug in my chest urged me forward. As a floorboard creaked under my weight, her head snapped up, eyes alert.
“Oh, marhaba!” her expression softened as she met my gaze. ”I didn’t hear you come in!”
I found myself at a loss for words, as if the very act of speaking was foreign to me. In that seemingly endless second, her presence enveloped me, rendering everything else insignificant. When she tilted her head, studying me curiously, I hastily cleared my throat, attempting to regain my composure.
“Marhaba, Princess. Forgive me for the interruption,” I replied, embarrassed by my flustered state.
“No apologies necessary!” She plucked a pin from the table and carefully marked her place in the book. “Are you on duty?”
Striving to maintain composure, I straightened, assuming a formal stance. “Yes. The palace’s safety requires constant vigilance.” My words were clumsy and awkward, her mere presence unsettling me.
“Ah, so I don’t need to fight you for the treasures on these shelves?” she asked, her golden eyes sparkling with amusement.
Once an avid reader—I’d read every volume in this library at least twice—I couldn’t recall the last time I’d held a book that wasn’t the Heart of Eternity’s tome. Unfortunately, I found very little joy in anything these days.
“Don’t worry, I’m only here on official business.”
“I suppose these books are quite safe with you, then,” she teased, watching me with an amused expression.
“Indeed. Safeguarding the sultanate’s library is my utmost priority,” I replied, failing to match her playful demeanor. Feeling out of my depth, I quickly changed topics. “Are you enjoying your stay?”
”Very much so, shukran. It has been incredible to engage with others from such diverse backgrounds!”
Unsure what to say, I nodded stiffly, wincing internally as an awkward silence fell over us. Desperate to keep the conversation alive, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I see you’ve left the cumbersome train behind today.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, her laughter free and genuine, lighting a spark within me. “If I never see another train again, it will be too soon.”
RAMI! Come here IMMEDIATELY!
Before I could think of a response that didn’t make me appear like a bumbling fool, the Sultan’s frantic screams pierced my thoughts, breaking the spell of our conversation.
“My apologies, I must attend to... urgent matters,” I stammered, flustered by his sudden intrusion. “I hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities.”
I turned to leave, the weight of duty pulling at me, when her voice stopped me. “Wait!” There was a pause, and when I faced her again, she asked, “What”s your name?”
For a fleeting moment, I balanced on the thin line between duty and the stark simplicity of my identity. ‘Captain Rami’ sat at the tip of my tongue, a name that everyone but the royal family used—a shield against too much familiarity. However, my title carried with it expectations and assumptions, none of which I wanted to define this moment.
“Rami,” I said at last, offering her a piece of my true self.
Her smile, then, was another light that pierced the shadows surrounding me. “Have a wonderful day, Rami.”
Pressing my fist to my heart, I replied, “You as well.” As I quickly strode across the palace, I couldn’t stop smiling, the sound of my name on her lips overpowering the Sultan’s clamorous demands.