90. Sultanah (Patreon)

As the knocks awakened Aloe, her mind still wandered to the memories of that gazebo. It had been barely a few hours ago, and her mind would not let it pass.

“Yes?” Aloe groaned, trying to make her way out of bed.

“Venerable scribe,” an unknown female voice talked through the door, a maid judging by the formality of her words, “the Emir has told me to wake you up and notify you that she wants you on the palace’s entrance in a quarter.”

“Thanks for the notice.” With those words spoken, Aloe could hear the footsteps of the maid walking away. “A quarter of an hour to dress? Ugh, that’s not much time...”

Her thoughts were sluggish, she hadn’t had the best of sleep. Regardless of whether her dreams were wet or not, which they weren’t, the scribe hadn’t had much time to rest. She had waited past midnight for the baths to be empty and judging by the warm yet dim beams infiltrating their way into her room, that meant she had barely had six hours of sleep.

“It beats none...” Aloe yawned; one hand on her mouth, another on the closet’s door.

She had no maid to dress her, but after her night’s escapade, Aloe had gotten a solid idea of the court’s fashion. The first step was to discard the inexpensive-looking clothes. Everything was provided by the palace, but she wouldn’t dare to present herself without the finest silks around. The preferred clothing as of late seemed to be sleeveless. That applied to both men and women. Aloe ended up picking a green dress, a shawl, sandals with high heels, and finally wrapped herself in a yellow silk around the hips to conceal her lacking curves. That way people would think she was hiding them, instead of having none.

After what was cutting close to her fifteen minutes, Aloe rushed to the entrance of the exterior palace. Rani, alongside the soldiers, waited for her. The emir was talking with another sultanzade, one that Aloe recognized. Khalida, the one that had unceremoniously barged into her room and then, unceremoniously too, stated her virginity.

“I would like to keep conversing with you, dear.” Rani referred to Khalida once she noticed Aloe’s presence. “But our presence is required somewhere else.”

“Thought as much.” Khalida shrugged. “Please, look for me tonight. We have much to talk about.” And then left without much fanfare.

“I would like to say you are late,” Rani started, “but you have been nothing but perfectly punctual.”

“I would not think to leave you waiting, Rani,” Aloe answered cordially.

The emir didn’t respond instantly, instead choosing to examine the scribe carefully.

“Good job with the attire, but you lack makeup,” Rani stated neutrally.

Aloe paled, “Is it going to be an issue?”

“Not at all, perhaps it is better that way. Aaliyah is not exactly known for using makeup, though it is not as she needs it in the first place.” Rani looked up to the sky in a gesture that seemed to compensate for a lack of sighing. “Anyhow, let us get going. We still have some time, but you do not let the Sultanah of Ydaz wait.” The sultanzade spoke the last words with derision.

The emir’s entourage marched in silence, walking across the tiled path surrounding the palace where the sultanzade rested. It was bigger than the main one, but it was easy to see from the exterior alone that they were leagues apart. The wealth was astonishing as something as simple as pathways were tiled with a myriad of colors, some sections even portraying drawings and stories.

The main palace, that of the Sultanah, was already bustling with life even though the sun had barely risen above the walls. People flooded the gates, whether they were merchants, commoners, or nobles they all waited. The Sultanah listened to everyone.

Maybe a bit too closely.

Rani and the rest passed through the line, no one stopping them. Well, they tried to raise their voices, but then someone next to them would stop them before they said something they would regret. It didn’t matter that Rani was the daughter of the Sultanah, there were a lot of those, but that she was the head of the Emirate of Sadina. Technically speaking, her power and status rivaled that of foreign kings, no matter if her hierarchal position was that of a princess.

The inner palace was a sight to behold. Masterclass pillar with excellent carvings; walls lined with silver, electrum, and gold; paintings of the Sultanah in all her majesty; and enough servants to form a village. There were more servants per square meter than people overall back in the palace of Sadina. Their eyes studied them, nervousness arising deep inside Aloe.

Their march stopped once they were met by a colossal stone wall. Wait. Aloe noticed the crack in the middle and the hint of light pouring through. It’s a door! The scribe almost gasped. Upon seeing them, the guards standing by approached the gigantic slates of stone and began pushing. The place trembled as six men tried their best to move the building-sized doors.

Rani herself sighed and rolled her eyes as they waited for the guards to open it, one millimeter at a time, every advance a hard-fought battle. No one batted an eye, but Aloe grew more uncomfortable with each gain.

“Is...” She almost doubted if to talk. “Is it always like this?”

“Yes,” Rani answered, her eyes locked forward. “As you are seeing, Aaliyah has a hand for theatrics. These doors have been here for longer than her, but it was not until her reign that they were closed and opened each day. In former sultan's reigns, the doors would remain always open for everyone. A symbol you see. Which is quite ironic as Aaliyah listens more to the people than any of her predecessors.”

Even with the sultanzade’s history and cultural lesson, the guards only managed to open it a few more centimeters.

“Do they have to open it all the way up?” Aloe couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor soldiers.

“Indeed,” Rani added with a hint of amusement. “Though that is more of a day-long task. Once the doors reach those red tiles on the floor, we can pass through, they will continue pushing meanwhile.”

Aloe waited impatiently as the gates slowly opened, enmity filling her chest. She refused to look forward. The only way she noticed that the door had opened enough was when Rani took a step forward. Even then, the emir didn’t just enter the audience hall.

“Emir Rani-al-Sadina and her scribe of commoners, Aloe Ayad.” The herald announced next to them. His voice was powerful enough that Aloe fully believed it made its way into the small opening.

Satisfied with their introduction, Rani pranced forward. Without hesitating, Aloe followed suit.

The light blinded them as they passed through the gates.

Aloe had expected an enclosed room, not one with openings greater than the doors they had stepped through. The room itself was the pinnacle of royalty and opulence. Banners hung from the walls and ceiling, either the flag of Ydaz or nondescript purple banners with the sole intention of displaying wealth. At their right, dozens of pillars acted like a wall, but the space between them failed the function of an actual wall. The needless effort of the gate became even more apparent as people could flock inside from the pillars’ openings in the hundreds.

The scribe did her best to distract herself from the main attraction, but as her liege came to a full stop, Aloe was forced to look at her.

Aaliyah-al-Ydaz.

Words felt short to describe the woman sitting before her. No poem, no matter how elaborate the bard that sang it made it, could come close to capturing the likeness of the Sultanah of Ydaz.

With a bronze skin that reflected the light like the very metal, Aaliyah-al-Ydaz seemed like a statue as she lay unmoving on her throne. Her beauty was something worth of a sculpture too, with her chiseled yet undeniable feminine face shape, her bountiful chest with each teat bigger than Aloe’s head, and her legs thicker and certainly tougher than a log. No single description of beauty could define Aaliyah-al-Ydaz.

She had feminine beauty as her lush ebony hair hit the ground and her purple eyes shone like gemstones.

She had motherly beauty as her colossal chest and wide hips could feed and birth more children than a single orphanage.

She had strong beauty as her whole body was inlaid with muscle, even her own muscles bulked up with more muscles on top of them.

She had divine beauty as her sheer presence made Aloe gasp for air and flush, almost gulping saliva at the simple act of gawking.

It didn’t matter what clothes she was wearing or if she was even wearing clothes. No piece of fabric could be even factored into someone’s mind when they had Aaliyah-al-Ydaz before them.

Aloe didn’t know why or when, but she was kneeling down. She understood the stories about Aaliyah-al-Ydaz.

Every single story.

The Sultanah was unlike any other woman. She was not an object of desire; she was desire itself.

Aaliyah-al-Ydaz directed her gaze on them, her amethysts tramping over Aloe’s body like a thousand hands. The scribe faced down as the pressure was too much to handle. Even the movement of the Sultanah’s lips as she was going to talk could be felt in the room.

Aloe shivered in a mixture of expectation, fear, and far much more.

“I expected more from your stories, Rani.” The Sultanah’s words overflowed with vitality.

This is it. Aloe realized. The true challenge.