Chapter 31
T heir journey across the sea was nearly over.
But in those few days, besides the small conversation they had when they initially got on the boat, Aza and Jahar have exchanged maybe five words total.
Aza no longer knew what to say, if there were any words left to say.
And Jahar either didn’t know what to say as well or didn’t want to say anything.
That thought tightened around her heart.
Aza had grown increasingly homesick. She wasn’t sure if she was missing her lands or a person she once knew. Either way, it eats at her.
Without thinking, Aza found herself leaving the dark dreariness of her room and walking towards the kitchens.
She doesn’t really know why she’s heading there, but part of her just feels like it’s the one place that might still feel like home.
Jahar’s steps follow behind her, but he still stays silent.
Aza knows there’s probably not much aboard, but she’s hopeful there’s enough to bake something.
The more she looked at Jahar, the more she saw the exhaustion in him.
She realized this might not be for her, but for him.
Hoping that getting back to something he loves will make things better, Aza begins grabbing supplies.
She knows she shouldn’t still be caring. Shouldn’t be doing this for him after everything, but she can’t help it. Regardless of everything, Jahar is still her best friend, and she cares for him with every fiber of her being.
“What are you doing, Princess? I can get servants to make you something if you are hungry.”
It was the first full sentence in days .
“No, thank you. I want to bake for myself. Feel free to join in, though, if you want.” Jahar doesn’t move.
Aza begins adding ingredients. She dumped in flour and sugar. Then breaks an egg, dropping a chunk of shell into the bowl. Jahar didn’t flinch.
Huh? Not enough?
She then adds the smallest bit of butter.
I’m missing something, Jahar. Are you going to correct me? You used to love correcting me.
There’s only a small crinkle of his eyes. So, she then begins mixing ever so poorly. She slaps the spatula through it, powder getting on her chest and dress.
“Whoopsies.” She giggled.
She tries her best not to actually waste many of the ingredients, but her plan isn’t working.
She grabs a large glass and fills it with water. The cup lingers over the bowl before Jahar finally grunts loudly and makes his way to the other side of the table, where Aza is standing.
“Give me this,” he commanded. “I know what you’re doing.” He narrows his eyes at her.
“I don’t know what you mean. I was simply making a small cake to eat.”
“Mhm. Right,” he quipped, “definitely not doing everything wrong just to rile me up so that I join in.”
Jahar tries to hide his eye roll as he focuses his attention back on the batter. He pulls out the eggshell that Aza had dropped and flings it at her.
She jumped back and shrieked, “Hey!”
“Whoopsies.” He mocks, making Aza smile uncontrollably.
She watches him as he adds more butter and other needed ingredients. He gently mixes it at first, making sure everything combines. The mixing speeds up as fewer ingredients remain loose in the bowl.
His biceps flexed harder the faster he moved the spatula around.
She’s surprised they don’t tear through his undershirt.
He stops briefly, grunting, unhooking his chest piece and setting it on the table next to him, as well as his metal shoulder pads.
His undershirt clung to him, showing every sculpt of his muscle.
Her gaze drifts down his body. The broadness of his pecs, the definition of his abs that linger beneath, the veins that course across his hand.
Her mind wanders to how her soft body would feel against all the ridges of his. The strength of his arms around her. His hands clinging to her.
Aza has to turn her head away quickly.
You need to stop! There’s no way you can maintain any kind of friendship with thoughts like that! She scolds herself.
“Are you alright?” Jahar inquires, dipping his head down, trying to see her better.
“Yes, sorry. Something got in my eye.”
He raises an eyebrow, inquisitively, but then goes back to mixing.
Aza looks away, not knowing what to do with herself. She hops up onto the table, pretending to read the flour bag.
“A good read, is it?”
“Oh, quite.”
“You know one of my rules,” he starts, pointing a batter-filled spatula at her, “No sitting on my table.”
“This isn’t your table,” Aza argued before putting the spatula in her mouth and sucking the batter off the top.
Jahar sucks in a breath, stepping back slightly, heat flashing his eyes.
“Bad Princess,” he scolded after gathering himself.
Aza giggles, trying to hide the blush rising to her cheeks.
“You know, sometimes I wish you still worked in the kitchens, so you could still make me delicious food. You used all of the ingredients I would have, and there’s no way my batter would have tasted that good. I can’t even begin to imagine how amazing the cake is going to taste.”
“Well, young aspiring baker, your training was cut short when you stole me away.”
“I didn’t steal you away. You accepted an offer I knew nothing about. Thank you very much.” She emphasizes.
“How was I supposed to refuse a request from the King?” He jokes.
“Oh, so you only took the position because the mighty King Nefir himself asked you.”
“Precisely.” He agrees, not moving his focus from the batter he’s now pouring into a pan.
Aza huffs.
Jahar glances at her from the corner of his eye, a small smirk spreading up the side of his face.
Butterflies took over Aza’s stomach. But then they turn into clawing monsters. Making Aza start to feel sick with worry. She can’t imagine her life without him. She has worked really hard to begin to accept that they can never be together romantically, but they were friends long before that.
“Jahar?” She grabs for his attention, a slight shake in her voice.
“Yes?” He puts the empty bowl of batter down, turning his attention back to her.
“Can… we still be friends?”
His face softens, and a small smile spreads up his cheeks, “Always.”
“Would… would you…” Aza stutters, “Never mind.”
“What is it?”
“Never mind. It’s stupid.”
“Aza.”
“Fine,” she huffs, “I… I was just wondering if… if you’d still stay my guard, when I have to eventually move.”
“Aza… I…”
“I’m sure there are new places you’d love and beautiful women who could steal your heart. Maybe even Inaya, if you wanted.
“Inaya? What are you talking about?”
“Bennu said you were with her for a while when you had your time off. I just figured maybe you took a liking to her. I’m sure she could get a royal guard job too, and…” Jahar cuts her off, walking over to her and placing a finger in front of her lips.
“I have not taken a liking to Inaya. We happened to be at the same place at the same time. I did not hang out with her more than that brief time. Bennu shouldn’t have even told you that. I am not concerned with other women.”
“You should talk to him, if you haven’t already. I know you two were fighting, but he’s your best friend.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“He told me you two got into a fight. I picked up on the best friend thing myself.”
Jahar chuckles, shaking his head, “he drives me mad sometimes, that’s all. We are perfectly fine. And I am a grown man. I don’t need another grown man best friend.” He tsks, “My best friend is a future queen.”
“Is that right?” Aza giggles.
“Yes. Maybe you will meet her someday. I'm going to be moving across the sea to new lands to be her royal guard once again, but I'm sure we'll come back home to visit.” He jests.
“What?” Aza nearly shrieks, “You’d… you’d go with me? E-even after everything you said?”
“I tied my life to yours, remember?”
Tears filled Aza’s eyes as she leapt off the counter into Jahar’s arms, squeezing him tightly. He wraps his arm around her lower back, pulling her closer to him.
“Thank you,” Aza whispers in his ears, trying to hold back sobs.
“Anything for you, my dear Princess.” He buries his face more in her shoulder, “And I am sorry. I… I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. This past week and a half has been… hell.”
“I’m so glad you’re not mad at me.” Aza chokes on a sob.
Jahar pulls back to look Aza in the eyes, “I could never be mad at you. I… was mad at myself. For what I did, for what I can’t do and can’t give you.”
“I just need you to stay with me.”
Jahar takes hold of her hands, “I will be with you, always. But I need you to understand that we can only be friends. We cannot be more.”
Aza so badly wanted to kiss him. But she had to shove that thought away. They were still friends. He was going to stay with her. She can’t have more, but maybe this could be enough.
“I know.” Aza sighs, “I have to pick a husband.”
“I know. We’re going to have to get used to the thought of having to choose other people.”
“It’s going to suck.”
“I told you that the other night.”
“Are you going to be okay with it?”
“No. But there’s no other option.”
“I might throw up if I see you with another woman.”
Jahar chuckles.
“Let me finish this cake you so graciously tricked me into making.” Aza laughs, and Jahar grins widely.