Chapter 8
B y the time Aza and Jahar had made it back to her room, Aza was still fuming.
How could Ayesha say all that so carelessly and act like Aza’s future life was a walk in the park?
Yes, Aza was aware that there were many things about being a princess that she was very fortunate to have.
But she just couldn’t understand how Ayesha could see being forced into a marriage alliance and then uprooting your entire life to move to a whole new kingdom as something to be nasty and jealous about.
Before reaching her door, out of earshot of Ramsee, who was still standing guard outside her door, she asked Jahar, “Can you spare a few moments? I need someone to vent to.”
Jahar chuckled ever so slightly, “It would be my honor, Princess.”
When they arrived at her door, both Aza and Jahar nodded to Ramsee, who only slightly nodded back.
Aza was pretty sure he was sick of having to watch over her.
She was pretty sure he was just young and cocky and wanted to make a name for himself in battles, but they were fortunate enough not to have any fighting or battles occurring right now.
Nevertheless, he never said anything or questioned Jahar entering her room.
Not that they were doing anything inappropriate, but still.
As if she couldn’t hold it in any longer, as soon as Jahar shut the door and takes a seat on her couch, Aza blurts out, "She's out of her mind, right? I mean, why is she so desperate and condescending? And she complains and complains, but she has a new male interest every five minutes. How can she complain that no one wants to stay with her when she can’t keep her sights on the same man for more than a day?
She's such a… a… a grumpy old mule, as Layla put it.”
"Why is this bothering you so much, my Princess? Are you mad about her actions or the things she said about you?"
"Both, I guess." She huffs out a breath, "Maybe I’d like the luxury to be able to give anyone I choose a try. To put myself out there, to choose someone, and not one from a short list of approved ones. But no, I’m the Princess.
I have to be proper. I don't get the luxury of most girls.
I don't get to choose the husband I want, not really.
I don't get to lay with others. I’ll be told who I have to marry with almost no say.
It's unfair. And it's unfair of her to treat me poorly because of it. " She spouted angrily.
"Perhaps she is just jealous of your immense beauty, my dear Princess. And how you don't have to fight for men to want you." He looks shocked at his statement and quickly adds, "Pardon me, Princess, I should not have said that."
"It's alright, I'm sorry to be mad about this. I don’t want to sound like her, complaining.
It's just," she sighs and stops pacing the room, "unfair.
I mean, what if I want to walk up to someone," she stalks over to Jahar, "and say, ‘hey good looking, want to go out?
I want you to hold me. Or…" she leaned down to Jahar and lowers her silky voice, "daddy I want you to fuck?—"
Jahar stands up abruptly, walking away, running his hand down his face, and bursts out, "Princess!" He sucked in a breath, "You… you sure have found some courage and rebellion in your blood tonight."
"Yes, I have." She purred, her eyes gleaming as she seductively begins to walk towards him.
"Princess," Jahar says in a soft but almost scolding tone.
"What?" She snaps, "I'm sorry, I'll just go back to being the perfect little docile bargaining tool. You're dismissed!" She barks back, making her way to her bedroom and slamming herself on her bed, arms crossed.
Jahar sighs and walks to her room. "Don't do that."
"Don't do what?" she growls.
"Be mad at me." He kneels beside her bed, and she turns her head away from him.
"I want you to be happy. But I’m not someone you can cross that line with. As unfair as it is, as of now, no one really is."
"It's not just that; it's being able to express myself and not just be this cookie-cutter perfect princess all the time.
Do you know what it's like to be twenty-three years old and hearing all my girlfriends talk about their sexual explorations and their men and all that, while I have to stay celibate for a man that I don't even get to choose?
Do you know what it's like to be incredibly horny, but keep a straight face and a perfect posture?
" She asked rhetorically, not expecting an answer, blurting out more than she meant to, and cowering back, embarrassed.
"Darling, I am your personal guard who is with you for nearly every one of my waking moments, and the few hours I do get to myself, I spend sleeping. Alone." He says in a matter-of-fact tone.
She stares at him blankly, "I… I never thought about that. I can get you time off again so you can enjoy yourself. I didn’t realize this made your life miserable." She says in a sad, defeated tone.
"That’s not at all what I said. I love my job. I get to spend most of my time with you. No one could ever compete, especially when I have you doing all of that. Totally not fair by the way." He teases.
Aza is a little shocked by his statement, but still feels bad about her actions, "I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have come on to you like that. I just got carried away. It won’t happen again." Aza says, lowering her head, embarrassed.
"You won’t hear me say this again, but I only stopped you because I had to, not because I wanted to. But you will do well to forget we ever had this conversation, or I will be hanged if anything gets out or goes further." His voice turned serious.
She smacks him on the arm, "I don't like it when you say stuff like that," she huffs.
"It is true, though, my Princess. If anyone ever caught wind that your personal royal guard was overstepping those kinds of lines and boundaries, I would face severe punishment. Possibly death. Your father entrusted your care with me. Us having anything more than a professional, semi-friendship would be wrong on so many accounts.”
“Why do you have to say it like that?” Aza questioned, her voice going sad.
“I don’t mean to upset you or hurt your feelings, but Princess, I am your guard, not a prince, and you are a princess, not to mention I am far too old for you.”
Aza, feeling a quiet defeat settle in her chest, stood up from her bed, “You know Ayesha is wrong about a lot of things, but not as wrong as saying that any man I wanted would want me, too.” Aza turns to leave her room but glances back quickly and says, “I will be taking Ramsee with me to the kitchens; see to it that you relieve his position.”
“Princess…” Aza can hear Jahar’s voice trail off as she walks away.
As upset as she was with Jahar, she shouldn’t have chosen to take Ramsee instead; she should have just sucked it up, because now here she was trying to make decisions on food that would satisfy visiting royalty, and she had no idea what to pick.
Ramsee certainly wasn’t going to try anything or give his opinion.
Why did she have to overstep? She had been happy in their little bubble.
She knew they couldn’t be more. So why was she always trying to pop it?
It didn’t help that she was also confused.
Jahar said things sometimes that made it seem like he had feelings for her or wanted her but he never gave in.
Did he just say those things to make her feel better, or did he truly have feelings?
And if he did, despite everything, why did he have to still refuse her.
It muddled her thoughts until nothing felt certain.
Maybe her fractured mind had started tricking her and convincing her there was more between them than there actually was.
Frustrated with herself, she finally gave in and realized Jahar was not in the wrong, even if he hadn’t done what she had wanted him to do. Her fantasies could not keep colliding with reality as they had; she had far too many responsibilities, and it was not in the cards for her.
“Ramsee, would you please go get Sir Jahar for me?” Aza asked politely.
“But I am already here, and you’re testing food. Why do you need him?” Ramsee questioned with far more attitude than Aza liked.
“I don’t expect a newcomer like you to know, but Jahar, before he was a decorated guard, was the top Chef of the palace, and I need his expertise, and I am the Princess, and you are my guard, my servant, and I asked you nicely to do it, and now I am telling you.
And before you argue that I cannot be left without a guard, let me remind you I am in a kitchen full of chefs who are masters with knives, and I am safer with them than I am with you.
Do I make myself clear?” Aza bites out, completely over this guard that gets worse every time she makes his acquaintance.
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, and Aza can see embarrassment and anger behind his eyes, and then he hastily leaves.
Mama Nubia, as she is known throughout the palace, makes an ‘o’ shape with her lips as she snickers.
“You tell that boy off. I never liked that one. Always acting like he’s better than everyone else.
He’s not even from here,” she shakes her head, tsking.
“Chef Naeem, why don’t you give the girl and me a minute, and then she’ll be ready to try and choose from your amazing foods.
” Mama waits for Chef Naeem to leave before she asked, “Now why isn’t Jahar here in the first place? ”