I dressed quickly and headed to the breakfast room. I was surprised to find Jamal and Freya there talking with my mother. Her eyes were bright, and she was talking with such animation with them. While Genie’s memory had faded again, it seemed hers had come back a little. The whole thing was exhausting, but at least, it would make my plan for today much easier to execute.
“Gaia,” Jamal said a smile on his face. “We were just talking about heading to the gates.” He nodded his head toward my mother.
It was a relief he was talking to me at all.
“We thought we’d all go after breakfast,” he added, pulling out a chair for me. I sat next to him with a little trepidation. He’d been so upset with me. What had changed?
My mother passed me a scone and a plate of butter. “This has gone on long enough. We’ll open the gates, travel to Khoha, and ask the mayor to tell the farmers to bring the food.”
I gave her a smile. The sooner we got food into Kisbu, the sooner the restaurants could open, and the sooner I could introduce my parents to each other, and then they’d fall in love again. In theory, it sounded so easy. In reality, there were a million reasons it could all go wrong.
We headed into town flanked by a dozen guards. I could sometimes get away with being invisible, but my mother was a different story. People came out of their houses and shops to see what was happening as we walked through the streets to the gates. We could have taken Palanquins or a royal carriage, but my mother insisted we walk among the people. The carriage that would take us to Khoha had been sent ahead of us, to meet us at the gates. I walked a few steps behind her, letting her have all the limelight. The people needed a leader, and she was it. As we walked, our numbers grew and grew, a procession of Kisbu residents following behind us.
The gates of our giant walled city loomed large, making me nervous. I didn’t expect food to magically appear at the other side of the gates when they were opened, but the hundreds of people that had followed us were expecting something.
My nerves only increased as my mother ordered the gates open. The whole crowd held a collective breath as the gates were pulled open by four of the wall guards.
A cheer went up among the people as the door creaked to a halt, fully open, exposing the scene on the other side. Almost as many people stood at the other side of the walls as there were on this side, but the difference was, they all carried something. Lines of people, most with carts, some with carriages and the odd one or two with bags strapped to horses and camels, began to walk through the gates.
I turned to one of the guards at the gates. “How long have they been waiting?”
“They started lining up a couple of days ago.”
I watched as the farmers and merchants were swamped with people throwing money at them as they began to sell their wares in an impromptu market on both sides of the wall.
All around me, I saw smiling faces as farmers handed over food, and the people of Kisbu gave them money. For a while, it looked like everything was going to be fine after all, but I knew it wouldn’t last. The people buying the wares were the people that could afford them. There were plenty that couldn’t.
Once the chaos had died down a bit and many of the hundreds of Kisbu residents had gone back to their homes, I climbed a set of steps up to the top of the wall above the open gates. I cleared my throat and shouted down. “Let the farmers be on their way. The gates are open and will remain that way. We need to get food into the shops and restaurants for everyone else.”
Okay, it was selfish of me. I needed the Sultan’s Shawarma restaurant to open.
The crowd began to disperse as the farmers were allowed through.
“I think this went rather well, don’t you?” My mother commented as she handed over a handful of Rubees to a passing pastry cart. “Cakes for the guards, please.”
She picked up four of the delicate little cakes and passed them to Freya, Jamal, and me before biting into the last one herself.
The cakes weren’t the freshest. Goodness only knew how long they’d been waiting on the cart, but they were better than nothing, and the guards certainly seemed appreciative of them.
We spent the day walking through Kisbu, as we didn’t need to make the trip to Khoha anymore. The sun shone down, lighting the smiles on everyone’s faces, and for a while, all was well.
It gave me hope that my plan would work. My mother had never looked so beautiful. As the sun began to lower in the sky, I pulled Jamal and Freya to one side. “I need to find my father. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Jamal nodded and began to steer my mother over to The Sultan’s Shawarma Restaurant that was, thankfully, open again.
Pulling my bag firmly over my shoulder, I slipped away from my mother when she wasn’t looking and headed up to the bell tower.
My heart fell when I saw that my father wasn’t there. I’d brought clothes and shoes for him along with a comb and a bottle of water to clean himself up. I’d even brought a pair of scissors with the intention of giving him a quick haircut. I let the bag fall to the floor, leaving it there. What else could I do? I didn’t have the energy to track him down again. I could only suggest he go to the restaurant, I couldn’t force him.
With a heavy heart, I ambled back down the dusty stairwell and crossed the road to the restaurant. Inside, a fuss was being made over my mother. The Sultan’s Shawarma, despite the name, was not the kind of establishment that was used to catering to royalty, and it showed. The decor was faded, with wallpaper peeling in places. The menus were covered in grease, and the whole place looked like it needed a good cleaning. The proprietor, a portly man with thinning hair and a thick mustache, seemed to realize the same thing and hastily ran a cloth over the menus as he passed them to us.
We were shown to what I assumed was the best table near the window overlooking the street, and the four of us sat down. Outside, the guards lined up, conspicuous as they were in their palace uniforms.
I leaned over to Freya, who had taken the seat next to me and whispered in her ear. “Can you get rid of the guards? My father won’t come if he sees them.”
Freya nodded. A few seconds later, she raised her hand to her head and moaned.
“Are you alright, Freya, dear?” My mother asked, full of concern as Freya closed her eyes.
“I’m fine. I think I have a migraine coming on.” She opened her eyes and looked over to Jamal.
“Jamal,” my mother said, turning his way. “Would you be a dear and take Freya home. Migraines are truly awful. I’ve been suffering from them myself recently.”
“It would be my pleasure.” Jamal stood up and held a hand out to Freya. I saw how easily she took it. I watched them through the window as they walked away from the restaurant along with the guards, and he never let go of her.
“I do wish they’d hurry up and take our order,” my mother said, taking me out of my thoughts. “I’m starving. All we’ve had to eat since breakfast was that little cake from the pastry cart.”
My stomach rumbled in answer. As if on cue, the mustachioed man ran over with a bottle of wine and a notebook and pen.
“What can I get you, Your Majesty, Your Highness?”
“I’ll have whatever you think is your best dish and lots of it,” my mother said, passing him back the menu.
He turned to me to take my order, but then there was a kerfuffle at the door.
“No, no, no,” he said to a waitress as she started letting other customers through the door. “The restaurant is closed for a private event,” he explained, his eyes darting our way.
We were obviously the private event.
“Don’t be silly,” my mother shouted over to him. “You’ve been closed for days. Let them in. The more, the merrier.”
The owner wiped the sweat from his brow and ushered them in. The family seemed quite surprised to be eating alongside royalty as they were shown a table near the back of the restaurant.
After I’d ordered, I let my mother dominate the conversation as
she talked about how well the day had gone and mulled over ways to carry on the good work. I let her speak. It was nice to hear her thinking again. Every so often, my eyes would dart to the door at the bottom of the bell tower, but by the time our meal arrived, my father hadn’t shown.
I started to eat the meal in front of me as my mother talked strategies. I remembered her doing the same thing with my father many times as they debated ways to make Badalah a better place for everyone. It was sad that all their hard work had crashed down in only a few short weeks.
A flash of white took my attention away from my mother. It was my father wearing the shirt I’d brought for him. My heart leapt as he crossed the road and stopped in front of the restaurant. He wavered a little, then when he saw me, he stepped inside.
I jumped up to get him, but he shook his head when he saw me, and his eyes widened. The waitress led him to a table near ours. My plan had been to invite him to our table, but this way was better. He could come over when he was comfortable, and I could think of a way to ease him into the conversation.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, standing up. “Bathroom break.”
My mother nodded and continued to eat as I walked past my father.
“Order what you want,” I whispered. “I have it covered.”
At the back of the restaurant, I sought out the owner and gave him enough Rubees for my father to have a good meal.
“We never did get to Khoha,” my mother said as I sat back down. “I do need to speak to the mayor. The farmers are bringing food in, but it won’t last, the way things are. I really could do with having a royal tour, visiting all the main cities in Badalah to turn things around. I just wish I felt better. Every time I make plans, I forget them.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my father listening intently to our conversation. Even when the waiter brought food out to him, he kept looking up at my mother. He was rapt with her. I gave him a smile, but he didn’t see it, he was too engrossed with my mother, exactly how I wanted him to be.
I waited for him to make a move and come over. It was plain he was interested in what she had to say as much as he was transfixed by her beauty. They might have forgotten each other on the surface, but underneath, he remembered his love for her. Now I needed him to come to the table and for my mother to see him. So far, she’d not even glanced his way. I was just about to stand up and invite him over when he finished up his meal and stood.
I gave him an encouraging grin as he walked slowly toward our table. He stopped. I held my breath, waiting to see what he would say. He reached down quickly, and when he came up, he had my mother’s handbag in his hand. I opened my mouth to question what he was doing, but he ran. Quick as a flash, he was out the door and down the street with my mother’s bag.
My mother brought her hand to her neck. “That man stole my bag!”
“Yes, he did,” I said with a sigh. My father hadn’t stolen anything in his whole life. Why did he have to choose today to start?
The restaurant owner gave chase, but he was nowhere near fit enough to catch my father.
He apologized profusely as I handed him enough Rubees to cover our bill.
Walking back to the palace was particularly fraught. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to dismiss the guards, but as we walked through the streets in the dark, I realized how exposed we were. It wasn’t the same as my nighttime trips I’d taken alone. Now, I had my mother to worry about, and she was already nervous after the theft of her purse. It didn’t help that the pair of us had dressed in our royal attire to stand out, exactly the opposite of what I’d prefer to be wearing. Only half the town’s people recognized me these days and then only half the time, but love her or hate her, they all remembered my mother. They seemed to remember me more if I was around her too. Sometimes like this morning, it brought me comfort, but walking through the dark streets, I’d have preferred to be as incognito as possible.
We finally got home safely, and after leaving her at her room, I went back to mine. My heart ached for Genie, but my soul wouldn’t stand a repeat of this morning. Instead, I flopped down on my own bed and wondered why people remembered my mother and not my father.
5
5th July
“You’ve never forgotten me, have you, Asher?” I asked as the phoenix flew around the room above my head. The newspaper articles were laid out on my bed around me as I tried to piece everything together. I needed Genie’s input. He could see things other people could not. There were so many mysteries. Like who killed the midwife that delivered me? It was a woman, according to her neighbor, and yet the only person I could think that might be an enemy to her would be The Vizier. If he somehow blamed her for my birth or wanted to find me, I could understand that. But it wasn’t him. As far as I could tell, the midwife had no money. The house she lived in was in a less than desirable part of Urbis. If only I’d found my mother. I still knew nothing about her beyond what I’d seen in the memory. I didn’t even know her name. I picked up the adoption announcement of Princess Azia of Draconis and read it again, trying to glean something more from it.
Copies of the Draconian Sentinel were laid out neatly in chronological order starting from January of this year when I’d started collecting them. My bed looked like a chaos of papers, but there was order there. Just no meaning as far as I could see.
A knock on the door took my attention away from the papers. Freya walked in. Her eyes widened at the mess on my bed.
I handed over a photo of Azia I found from a February edition of the Draconian Sentinel. The accompanying article was about how she’d disappeared, but the photo was from an official photoshoot taken sometime the year before.
“Do you think she looks like me?” I asked.
Freya accepted the paper and squinted. “She has different color skin to you,” she said, pointing out the obvious.
“Yes. I know. Look beyond that. Do you see any resemblance?” I took the paper back and held the photo next to my own face. Freya’s eyes darted between the two.
“Not really. You are both a similar age and both beautiful, but I don’t really see much resemblance. Why?”
I moved a stack of papers and sat back down on the bed. “I think she’s my sister.”
Freya furrowed her eyebrows and took the paper back from me. “What makes you think that?”
“Look at her eyes. I know it’s a black and white photo, but don’t you think that bit of lightness around the iris might be golden?”
Freya shrugged, unconvinced. “I’m sorry. I don’t see it. What is all this?”
I looked at the piles of papers and felt defeated. My kingdom was falling to pieces, my parents were sick, and I was no closer to finding out what was going on in all this. And the only person that might be able to see the connection didn’t even know who I was, despite the fact he’d seen me naked.
Some of the kingdoms’ royal families also had babies around the time I was born. Some were adopted in weird circumstances. Some were apparently born to the royals.
Freya picked up a copy of The Conch, Atlantice’s daily paper, and read the headline to herself.
“Do you think Princess Blaise is related to you, too?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought so, but she looks even less like me than Azia does.”
Freya walked over to my vanity unit, picked up the chair at it, and brought it over to the bed where she sat it down in front of me. “Walk me through this. You think you are related to what...four other royals? Which ones?”
It sounded so stupid to say it out loud. I had no brothers and sisters, and here I was thinking I was one of a set of quintuplets, none of which looked like me.
“Azia from Draconis, Blaise from Atlantice, Deon from Floris, although he wasn’t a royal. He married the princess there a couple of months ago. And finally, Kelis from Enchantia. Before you ask, no, none of them look like me, they just all appeared at their palaces and castles in a similar time frame.”
&nb
sp; “Weird,” Freya said, picking up another paper. “These princes and princesses. Are they in the same kingdoms that have had the problems?”
“Oh, the gods! Freya!” I jumped up and kissed her cheek. “Why did I not think of this?”
I started to rearrange the piles of papers into a makeshift timeline with the photos of the princes and princesses on the top.
“Draconis was first!” I said, pointing to the photo of Azia, my voice full of excitement.
Freya held out a hand. “Wait!” she ran over to my nightstand and brought out a pad of paper and a pen. “Draconis first. What dates?”
I cast my mind back to everything I’d read. “There were problems with the dragons in January. I think it was about that time that the Queen fell asleep, She’s not woken up yet.”
Freya wrote furiously. “Draconis, Azia, Sleepy Queen, and dragons in January. Then what?”
I looked over at my carefully curated piles of papers. “Princess Blaise of Atlantice. Her mother turned back into a mermaid. That was in late January or early February.”
“Blaise, mother a mermaid, Feb. Got it. Next?”
“There was a bit of a gap and then Floris. Now, the princess there is called Lilian, and she’s of a similar age, but not quite. It seems the Royals took on a baby boy that year, and he’s the one that I think is my brother. His name is Deon.”
“Deon. What happened to him?”
Gaia: Daughter of Aladdin Page 22
