40. Wind (Patreon)

Her hands trembled.

Whilst others would have thrown themselves at the ground and pleaded for mercy, Rani just stood silent. But staying silent for someone of her status was still a lot.

She was now alone in the office, the Sultanah was long gone, probably to attend in a celebration of her debauchery, but Rani still remained sat. The sultanzade could feel the pressure of her mother still lingering on her body.

Only people like her could know the might of the Sultanah of Ydaz, and knowing that not even being her direct subject nor her nince-damned daughter could save her...

Rani now understood why Hassan ran away.

The man was a spineless rat, but that was one of the few occasions where cowardice was the best trait to have.

She understood the unbridled violence that was her mother. Unstoppable, undefeatable. Fear was a powerful tool.

The emir downed the whole open bottle of wine in one gulp.

It was powerful stuff, almost able to afflict mild dizziness to a cultivator of the status of Aaliyah-al-Ydaz. But Rani didn’t have that much Nurture. Just strong enough to not puke her stomach inside out, but weak enough to make her drunk.

Her cheeks reddened and her mind clouded.

In moments like this, it was better to not think at all.

Rani made her way out of her mother’s den of lasciviousness and corruption, instantly being met by powerful rays of sunlight that oppressed her drunk body. Asina palace was composed of open corridors, light drowning the place, but that wasn’t the case with the Sultanah’s office. It was closed, with no windows and just a single small door to enter. It was probably built to discourage assassin attacks, but at the same time, what assassin would be foolish enough to fight that walking disaster of a woman?

Even in her drunk state, Rani knew how to manage herself. She was a master of lies and façades, a product of her mother’s training.

Servants bowed down to her, acknowledging her status as an emir, even when the Sultanah wouldn’t do so. Unlike other countries, Ydaz royalty employed both maids and manservants, the reason was quite obvious.

Both could be fucked.

Whilst bisexuality wasn’t as common with the male sultanzade, it was almost mandatory with the female sultanzade. If not by personal choice, by Aaliyah-al-Ydaz’s choice. The Sultanah’s stance of males being the inferior gender wasn’t a hidden one, nor a wrong one.

Women did make better cultivators.

But she did not put a leash on men’s necks as the northern patriarchal countries may do on women. As someone who had had multiple children, Aaliyah-al-Ydaz knew the importance of men.

Born a princess, educated as a diplomat, and turned ruler, Rani knew more about childbearing and foreign relations than most other sultanzade. Even though Aaliyah-al-Ydaz’s reign was one of isolationism, Rani feared being married to an outsider monarch in her youth. The common destiny of princesses was one mostly unknown to female sultanzade.

The daughters of the Sultanah would either become the administrators of her land – if not emirs, at least sheiks – or soldiers. Because that was what Aaliyah-al-Ydaz was doing, breeding soldiers. In the outmost literal sense of the word, even if she admitted that children for her were only a byproduct of her Nurture.

With some exceptions, the Sultanah did allow her daughters – especially her sons – to become scholars. It would be a waste of their Nurture, but she was pragmatic enough to put a brilliant mind to work. That may have also been one of Rani’s destinies if she weren’t so politically competent.

The emir’s thoughts came to a halt as she reached her destination.

Asina Palace was humongous, bigger than some small cities, so it could afford to have in its interior multiple training fields instead of patios. Surrounded by corridors from all sides in a delightful ceilingless clearing, a girl trained in a circular arena surrounded by a pit of flowing water. Even the sparring arenas of the palace exuberated with luxury as there were multiple benches, flowers, and vines growing on the corners, and even a dedicated spring for the patio alone.

The girl moved with the swiftness and grace of the wind, never staying still in a place for long, in constant movement but unpredictable, nonetheless. She was young, but if Rani were to fight against her, she would have no chance of winning.

The speed was the most impressive factor. Not only she was cutting the air like a dust devil, but the fluidity of her movements with such momentum was logic-defying. Dissimilar to other reinforcements, the speed stance didn’t grant you the mental capabilities to keep up with the boost in physical ability. It was normal for cultivators who didn’t have practice with such reinforcement to break their necks because they were moving too fast for their own eyes to even process.

Everyone could make themselves tougher and stronger by shifting vitality, but speed required a more hands-on approach. Only those who focused on it and trained it could reap the benefits, their bodies becoming quicker than the wind itself.

Rani churned her vitality, the movement of energy burning the toxins from her body for she would need her mind to be active. Still, her execution was imperfect and slow, in the time that she became mostly liberated from the effects of the alcohol, the sultanzade noticed her.

Maintaining an air and presence of superiority, Rani walked forward, slowly clapping as her sandals met with the fresh grass of the green section of the patio.

“Superb.” She congratulated her.

“Sister Rani?” The girl mused as she sheathed her daggers. They were sharper than the wind of a sandstorm. A simple movement as it was sheathing was so practiced that Rani had even difficulties processing the fact that the daggers were no longer in her hands.

“I guess it was expected from the one who dared to attack Aaliyah first.” Rani feigned noncompliance to her mother. Even when her heart trembled with fear at the thought of the Sultanah, she didn’t allow herself to show that to her half-sister.

For she was going to be her liege.

“To what I owe the pleasure of being greeted by your presence?” Naila slightly bowed down, more of a nod than anything.

She’s far shrewder than I thought. Her manners nonetheless surprised the emir. She started the conversation by acknowledging me as her sister instead of her half-sister and then maintained a diplomatic approach. Maybe she is right...

“Not much, not much.” Rani walked to one of the benches and sat down with a grace that would put the best of prostitutes to shame.

Naila followed suit as she sat down next to her, albeit keeping a distance. Unlike her half-sister, Naila was dotted with muscle. Not too many to be unattractive or put her at a disadvantage as she preferred a nimbler build with her fighting style, but still more than most soldiers. Not many women had accentuated knuckles and a six-pack, especially at the sweet age of fifteen.

If Rani was the beautiful and insidious side of Aaliyah-al-Ydaz, Naila was the fighter and straightforward one.

“Is it because of the events of this morning?” The young sultanzade asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

Like Rani, she was terrified of her mother. But unlike her, a fire of defiance flared in her eyes. Maybe that’s why she wants her to be her successor.

“Oh, no. You don’t have to worry about that.” Rani dismissed with a sway of her hand. “In any case, Aaliyah would reward you for being brave enough to strike first.”

“Would she?” Naila refuted the statement with rightful doubt.

“Indeed,” The emir responded with a smile and a finger next to her lips. “You could even say you got promoted.”

“Promoted?” The warrior child stood composed, though her eyes flashed with eagerness.

“From now on, Naila, my dearest half-sister,” Rani lied through her teeth, she didn’t even remember she existed until today, yet the words came out as truthful, “you will be the new imperial scribe of Sadina.”

Instead of ovation, Rani was met with dejection.

Naila deflated upon hearing those words. “I guess I cannot decline the offer, right?”

“It is no offer.” Rani clarified, though the statement gained her a hostile gaze from her half-sister. “For your information, I had no voice in this regard either. It’s a decision solely made by Aaliyah.”

The truth, the simple usage of the Sultanah’s name, was enough to vanish the hostility from the sultanzade’s visage. She was young, but she knew better than to antagonize her mother by going against her orders.

“I see...” Naila responded resigned, like a child who had been sold to pay off a debt. And in a convoluted way, it was true. Though Rani wouldn’t tell her the truth of why Aaliyah-al-Ydaz had decided this path for her. Giving her hope would make her unruly. And she just wanted the opposite.

“I know you prefer the way of the warrior,” Rani put her hand on Naila’s shoulder to comfort her. Dunes, she harder than a rock. “I’ve seen how you manage the daggers, but you’ll value the experience. Whether you think so or not, administrative skills are good to have. Believe me, it will be useful to you.”

“Really?” It was fascinating how weak the girl who gathered the courage to attack Sultanah looked. She truly preferred the sword to the feather.

“Really.” Rani’s smile was more genuine than ever. As she looked into Naila’s eyes, she saw herself.

Not a weak version that was unable to Nurture herself like her siblings, but a powerful and courageous one. She might be more useful than I thought. Rani thought as she sensed the vitality flowing through her half-sister’s body. A sword is only as mighty as the hand that guides it after all.