61. Imagine (Patreon)

“I am Idris,” the man started, though his voice trembled slightly, “and she’s Fayruz. As you may have guessed, we are the assistants of your predecessor, the scribe of commoners, Shahrazad.”

Idris bowed slightly and Fayruz followed suit. Their eyes were filled with doubt, fear being too strong of a word. They were certainly not comfortable, the firing of the other assistant fresh in their minds, but it was not a death sentence. No one wanted to lose a high-paying job, but it wouldn’t be the end of their lives, especially their working lives.

“Please take a seat,” Aloe responded as she motioned to the chairs near her desk. “Would you like something to drink?” The man refused by raising his left hand and the woman swayed her head. “I assume you are here for scribe business.”

“We would like to talk with you... venerable Scribe.” Fayruz explained diplomatically, hastily adding the title at the end. Even if she was way older than Aloe, she could read her easily. Better to be polite for no cost, than to be impolite and lose everything. It was quite a common trail of thought. “Whilst your approach to work so far is totally valid,” the assistant shallowly raised her palms defensively, “we would like to take a similar approach to what we had with your late mother. A back and forth between personal scribe and assistant scribe.”

Aloe instantly liked Fayruz. She was probably more than a decade older than her, yet she treated her with the appropriate respect. That skill alone was hard to come by. She knew that, because she didn’t have it. But she mainly liked her because it reminded her of herself, choosing diplomacy and kind words to reach a win-win scenario. That methodology that she had learned on her apprenticeship was what guided her life.

“But of course.” Aloe nodded. “I always intended that. It’s just that I’ve had too much workload to even contact with you. I suppose the papers I went through have already reached your desks, haven’t they?”

“Well yes, we have partially gone through the papers you have signed, but we would prefer more feedback on our work and your decisions.” Fayruz slowly became more fluent with each word, wariness vanishing from her voice.

“Feedback, you say?” Aloe asked rhetorically, though her words devoid of meaning caused expressions of rebuttal on the assistants. “Sorry, I am not refusing your proposal, I am just used to talking alone.” Maybe too much. “I am not used to working with others, all my education and jobs have focused on enduring my assignments alone, so I may not be exactly suited to this line of... collaboration. But if you say my mother did work like that with you, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and try this back and forth of yours.”

“We are so grateful for your understanding, venerable Scribe,” Fayruz vowed, her eyes shining. Aloe had never seen an adult being that happy about a work matter. Then she took a stack of papers out of her satchel. “We would like you to revise these documents as we feel that they are more urgent than you may have thought when you denied them.”

The next hours were spent in a back and forth as Fayruz had said. The assistant scribe presented a paper she valued that had been misunderstood then the scribe of commoners presented her defense and stated her ground.

Sometimes Aloe was in the right, sometimes Fayruz was in the right. They both shared different areas of experience and expertise. Whilst Aloe had been educated more like a merchant, Fayruz felt more like a military logistician. She knew how things worked and how to get them from one place to another.

Idris, the other assistant scribe, maintained himself to the side valuing himself unnecessary to the conversation. But that didn’t mean he remained still. He first asked Lulu for tea and then began doing paperwork. Not only his own but also removing part of Aloe’s workload. Whilst it was she who needed to sign the documents, not all of them were contracts, some were petitions that instead of being presented through the audience, had instead arrived through her desk.

The job of scribe of commoners was loosely defined, after all; meaning that she had a lot of responsibilities, from agriculture to dealing with the opinions of the people. Only know could Aloe understand how much different the job was from what she expected.

{*}

Soon enough, it turned dark. However, it wasn’t late, just one of the traits of winter. Even when the sun was no longer there, they continued to work under candlelight. And they would have continued for longer, if it wasn’t because Aloe collapsed.

“Aloe!” Fayruz stood up and ran to assist her as she hit her head on the desk. Like Lulu, she had told them to call her by her name. “Are you well?”

“Ugh...” Aloe groaned and led a hand to her head. “I’m fine.” It became obvious to the outside observers that she wasn’t well as she grabbed the opposite side where she had gotten hit.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Fayruz grabbed her by the shoulders, fearing that the woman might fall again.

“What’s the word for before-yesterday?” The scribe of commoners added dazedly.

“Ereyesterday,” Idris responded nonchalantly.

“Oh heavens!” The scribe assistant added in a panic as picked Aloe up by her armpits, ignoring her partner’s antics. “Lulu, help me bring her to bed!”

“Understood.” Lulu, who had patiently waited on a chair on the other side of the room all these hours, stood up and assisted Fayruz.

“Girls, I’m fiiine.” Aloe tried to shrug Fayruz away, but the odds were stacked against her. Besides being smaller, younger, and sleep deprived, Aloe had also still her ‘toughness’ infusion active, meaning that the little strength she could muster was slightly diminished.

“Do you have narcotics, Lulu?” Fayruz asked whilst fighting Aloe’s thrashes.

“You want to drug her?” The maid gasped at the suggestion.

“You have better ideas? Come on, it can be a tea! She just needs to sleep!” Lulu bowed and rushed outside the office. “Idris! Stop with the paper and help, man!”

The male scribe sighed and stood up. Maybe it was because of the dim light of the candles, but Idris seemed way taller than on the day. He grabbed Aloe by her legs – prompting a drowned yelp from the drowsy woman – and pulled her into a princess carry.

“Put me down at once!” Aloe cried in a mixture of rage and shame. Her struggles became even weaker with time.

“Open the door for me, Fay,” Idris said between grunts as he held Aloe’s pathetic yet annoying movements.

{*}

The scribes and company moved through the sleeping corridors, but because Aloe wouldn’t stop whining, Idris had to put his hand on the mouth of her boss. He doubted she would remember any of this if what she had about her lack of sleep was true. And he was right, she wouldn’t remember anything of these last hours.

Fayruz opened the door to the scribe of commoner’s bedchamber and lit the candles in the room as Idris himself disposed to throw her boss on the bed like a sack of potatoes.

“Idris!” Fayruz shouted upon hearing the muted thud; Aloe meanwhile twisted on the bed groaning, too groggy to realize what had happened. “Treat her with care! Do you want to be fired?”

“Honestly, Fay? I think we will get fired anyway.” The man responded with a sigh. “Haven’t you seen what she did to Shula?”

“I...” Any remark she could have uttered died in her mouth after hearing that. “I didn’t like Shula either way.”

“Enough to instantly make out a scribe with decades of experience?”

Fayruz's expression soured further on. “She had been disrespectful to her superior, no matter if she was right or not.” She looked away. “Shula could have said things differently.”

“Shula could have said worse and would have still been right.” Idris countered. “That girl there,” he pointed at the laying Aloe who was rolling and groaning in the bed, “is power-hungry and short-fused. She’ll make us out in a week.”

“That woman there,” Fayruz reiterated, “is a girl who lost her mother only a week ago. And remember what happened a few months ago too? Shahrazad’s father died, and Aloe’s grandfather. That's without even mentioning Amid. I cannot even begin to imagine what that girl has gone and is going through, and by what I see, you did neither.”

“I...” Idris swallowed his saliva, it felt sour.

He didn’t have time to refute as Lulu made her way into the room with a tray in hand.

“Is something wrong?” The maid asked as she saw the anxious expressions of the scribes.

“Nothing at all, dear.” Fayruz greeted her with a motherly smile. “Is that the narcotics? Please serve it to Aloe, we will make our way out. Right, Idris?” She threw two half-metaphorical daggers to the man.

He just nodded and they left the bedchamber, leaving the sleeping princess at the hands of the maid.

“You are right,” Idris said once they were far away past the palace gates.

The wind swayed slightly his robe, the same happened with Fayruz's long hair. Sadina shone lightly from the light of the street, few and weak, but on a moonless night, they felt like miniature suns in their own contained cosmos.

“About what?” Fayruz frowned.

“I didn’t imagine.” The man sighed; his gaze locked on the starry sky.