by Dagny Aldan
“No more than children are apt to do at any rate,” said Justin.
“Do you believe Benjamin’s word?” asked Ahmed.
“I’m inclined to,” said Justin, “Benjamin’s smart and has a strong ethical code, he’s always admitted when he’s made a mistake, so I think something else is happening there. Whether Isabel misinterpreted her classmate’s behaviour and took it too personally, or maybe people other than Benjamin were actively bullying her. What strikes me though is that we have a future ruler with a military career, who apparently can’t cope with basic interactions.”
“Something is definitely not adding up with her,” said Luke, looking at Lena suspiciously. Lena shifted and looked to Ahmed as if hoping he would help her out of this mess. That struck Luke as strange, he had never known Lena to look at Ahmed like that. Sure, she had always made her desire to rise in the ranks of the Dukedom obvious, but this seeming expectation she was directing towards Ahmed was new.
“I’ll find out what’s going on,” said Ahmed, he seemed to be ignoring Lena now. “Have her brought to my room before she wakes up.”
Justin acknowledged the order with a bow. Then Ahmed turned on Lena,
“Lena, you will not have any private time with the slaves, nor will you get to participate in any scenes until further notice.”
“What?” Lena’s voice pitched up to a squawk as she rounded on Ahmed.
“You didn’t do a single thing to really train Isabel, which I ordered you to do,” said Ahmed.
“That’s funny, considering it was your idea to frame Hans for our scheme to get her out of the army by sending those messages! You had me frame an innocent man and helped me get him locked up for the rest of his life, just to ensure that not only were they broken up, but Isabel’s love for him would never rise up from the ashes.”
“Hold your tongue!” spat Ahmed, his eyes darting to Isabel’s prone form. Luke, meanwhile, was gaping at the pair of them in disbelief, and when he noticed that Justin looked like none of this was news to him, he looked at all three of them in appalled fascination.
“Are you serious? Did you actually have a man locked up to break him and Isabel up?”
Ahmed made a sharp ‘tch’ sound with his tongue, turning away from them all,
“It was necessary. If she had been in love with him, she never would have come here, and we needed to make sure that Tisza was a part of the project. It’s the largest country with an heir.”
“That doesn’t mean –do I really need to explain to you why this is wrong?”
“It’s done Luke. Isabel’s here and we can always have the man released in the future. We have that kind of pull,” said Ahmed, smirking slightly. “It was for the good of the Dukedom. You agreed that we would do whatever it took to ensure this mission was a success.”
“Yes but… condemning a man to a life sentence just because Isabel fell in love with him?” Luke swallowed as he noticed the dark expression on Ahmed’s face. He decided to say nothing more for now. After all, it was done now, the only thing that was left was to follow through and ensure that this mission was a complete success.
The medical esquire removed the IV and Justin gathered Isabel into his arms, lifting her up and bearing her away. Luke watched him go, then said in as light a voice as he could manage,
“I suppose this means we won’t get to have a scene with Isabel, Sander and Adrian?”
“Decidedly,” said Ahmed shortly, already walking away. Luke watched him go, then turned back to Lena. She was clenching her jaw, clearly furious at this turn of events.
“Do you know what your biggest failure is, Lena?” he asked.
“Enlighten me,” she growled, arms folding across her chest.
“You’ve never cared about your charges as people. They are tasks, stepping stones that you have used to climb the ranks of the Dukedom. You have a flair and a talent for sadism, that was always clear, but you have never been very good at matching that with the required nurturing for the role we have chosen for ourselves.”
“We’re not daddies or mummies for these heirs. We’re their Masters, and we’re teaching them how to take adverse situations gracefully, so forgive me if I’m not inclined to molly-coddle them,” said Lena, her voice tight.
“There’s a difference between molly-coddling and neglecting their needs!” snapped Luke. “These young people have entrusted their well-being to us, and we must honour that trust. Yet your charge, she’s a nervous wreck and you did not help her. You should have demanded that she be assessed and treated! What the hell were you thinking not to insist on it when you pulled her out of a warzone?”
“Why don’t you ask Ahmed?” spat Lena, “He might say now that I should have done this or that, but not only was it his plan to extract her from the military the way we did, but he asked me every single day when she would be ready to come here.”
“You must have misunderstood him, Ahmed knows better than anyone-”
“I can show you the transcripts, the emails, the calls,” Lena cut across him. “He wanted her here as soon as possible. He didn’t make any mention of training at all!”
“That’s ridiculous!” snapped Luke, refusing to believe that his friend could have tried to undermine the training of a slave. Lena’s dark eyes flashed, and she gave him a vicious smile,
“You know, you might think of me as too distant from the slaves, but Ahmed’s on the other extreme. He’s obsessed with Isabel, and I don’t think it’s just because she’s the last one.”
Luke felt a chill go down his spine as he shook his head. He knew Ahmed, and there was no way that Ahmed’s judgement would be so impaired. Lena took a step closer, that smile razor sharp.
“I heard Ahmed recently had a rather violent outburst, about four months ago.”
Luke swallowed against a dry mouth, but he couldn’t deny the fact that there had indeed been an ugly incident where he had found Ahmed trashing his office and it had been four months ago.
“What of it?” he asked.
“Was it the 12th?” asked Lena, honeyed poison in her voice.
“Yes. What of it?” he demanded again. Lena’s eyes flashed again, this time with triumph,
“Because that’s the day I told him that Isabel had told Hans she was in love with him.”
Chapter Nineteen –Isabel
Awareness came slowly to Isabel, as if she was climbing through a dark channel, weighed down by heavy clothes. It took her a worryingly long time to open her eyes, and when she did it took longer still to make sense of what she was seeing. She recognised the feeling of being drugged, and she tried to remain still, unsure if she was somewhere safe or in danger, only peering through her half closed eyelids.
It took her a few moments to recognise Ahmed’s rooms, and when she looked up a little, she saw Ahmed himself, sitting by the bed and reading a book. Isabel opened her eyes fully and tried to lift her head.
“… sir?” she murmured. Ahmed looked up and smiled slightly, setting the book aside and leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
“Isabel,” he sighed, “How’s my conquest?”
Isabel’s head ached dully, and she couldn’t quite remember what had preceded her being here.
“Sir, what happened?”
“You had a panic attack, we had to sedate you,” said Ahmed, moving from the chair to the edge of the bed. “Do you remember what started it?”
Isabel shook her head, trying to sit up but her limbs were still too heavy. She couldn’t believe she had had a panic attack in front of people. That had never happened before.
Well, she remembered, she supposed that it was not entirely true, she had had one only a few months ago, when a slamming door caused a flashback. They were essentially one in the same to her. Ahmed moved onto the bed, gathered Isabel up in his arms and held her across his lap, like she was an overgrown child.
“Have you ever had an attack like that before?” he asked gently. Isabel licked her dry lips and gave him a tidy nod. “When?”
“I… I had a flashback a few months ago, I thought I was back in the Caliphate during a skirmish, where I was shot.”
Ahmed’s hand skimmed her arm where the bullet had hit her and she shuddered violently.
“What about before?”
“I used to get them in school, but I got good at controlling them and making sure no one saw them.”
“So you never asked for help from your doctors?”
“No sir,” Isabel admitted. “I didn’t want anyone to know. What if it got out that the future queen of Tisza was so weak she was having panic attacks over nothing?”
“Was it really nothing?” asked Ahmed, cupping her face, his thumb rubbing over her cheekbone.
“It… I could never determine what the triggers were. I would be in class and suddenly my chest would tighten and I couldn’t breathe. So I would ask to go to the bathroom and hide in the cubicle until it went away.”
“And no one noticed?” asked Ahmed. Isabel snorted before she could stop herself,
“Why would they sir? They were more interested in churning out talented and bright heirs to thrones of new and fragile dynasties. What did it matter if one was behind in the running?”
“Hmm, my poor conquest,” Ahmed sighed. “You must have felt so alone.”
A lump formed in Isabel’s throat and when she tried to swallow around it, tears burned her eyes. Ahmed’s thumb shifted up and brushed some away from her eyelashes,
“What about in the military? Did you not have anyone to rely on there?”
Isabel squeezed her eyes shut, breath hitching as she tried to block out the very thing she had been fighting since she had been dragged home.
“I had some… some friends, when I started in boot camp. When I joined I used the fake name I was given for privacy, so no one knew who I was. I was able to make friends, even if I struggled to keep up. My instructors were so hard on me but I wouldn’t let them drum me out. I’d gone there to prove I could do something worthwhile. So even when I messed up, and was punished, I wouldn’t let them chase me out!” Her voice had risen to a broken pitch and she looked up at Ahmed desperately. He smiled softly and nodded,
“I know, you’re too strong for that, aren’t you?”
Isabel reached up and curled her hand around his, pressing it against her cheek,
“Sir…” she murmured reverently.
“Keep talking Isabel, you were telling me about your friends and how you lied to them about who you were.”
Isabel flinched, stung by the casual way he had said it.
“I didn’t want my parents to find me, not until I was finished boot camp.”
“Still, you are who you are Isabel, you cannot pretend you did not deceive them,” said Ahmed, his voice soft and almost cooing.
“I…” Isabel swallowed against the lump in her throat again.
“Go on, tell me what happened.”
“I made a few friends, it took a while for us to become close, but that’s what works in boot camp. Everyone is put through the same hell, so everyone is suffering and struggling. That makes it easier to form bonds.”
“Indeed, I’ve read plenty on the theory of military psychology.”
Why didn’t that surprise her? Isabel supposed being in the Dukedom wasn’t massively dissimilar. A bunch of green recruits and the various drill sergeants who have to mould them into soldiers.
“So you must have hated boot camp, if you call it hell?” said Ahmed. His free hand was now toying with her hair. She felt oddly on display, her naked back against his clothed lap, her breasts soft and not weighed down by gravity into their usual teardrop shape. Isabel imagined they might look like some Renaissance painting, almost tenderly human surrounded by opulence.
“It was horrible, I hurt every day, I was constantly screamed at because I was no natural soldier, and I was so stressed I could barely eat. But it was wonderful too,” she admitted, fixing her eyes on the curve of his nose rather than looking him in the eyes. “In the military you have orders and you follow them. You’re expected to do your part and if you don’t you’re punished.”
“Did that not apply in school?” asked Ahmed, smiling faintly.
“It –it wasn’t the same. I wasn’t Princess Isabel who was failing her entire country every time she failed a fitness test or exam. I was just… Cadet Liza who was failing herself and her unit. Failing a unit isn’t as bad as failing a country. And the unit was only expecting from you the same as they expected from themselves, not that you be perfect and unflappable. So… I felt like I was a part of something.” Isabel reached up and rested her other hand on his shoulder cautiously, unsure if she was allowed to touch him like that. “There’s a difference between being part of the group, and knowing eventually it will be you alone.”
“Of course there is, but why would you be alone?”
“Because that’s the fate of heirs. We are alone, even among each other. Our countries will rely on us, and us alone. Even with a spouse, the marriage will be a union of nations, not one of love and support.”
“Hmmm, well… perhaps something else will happen,” said Ahmed, giving her a secretive smile.
“What do you mean, sir?”
“You have to finish the story, conquest. What happened?”
“Obviously it didn’t take long for everyone to figure out where I was. My ID was flagged as soon as it was realised that I was gone. I’d bought myself some time by leaving a note that I had been summoned home for an emergency, and no one knew I was gone for about two weeks, when I had not come back and my principal contacted my parents.”
“They must have been very worried,” said Ahmed. Isabel shrugged a little.
“If they were they never said so. It was probably just the problem my disappearance caused them, not any concern for my safety.”
“I’m quite certain there’s a law against joining the military under a false name,” said Ahmed.
“Normally, yes, but my ID was not technically a false name, because it is my alternative identity. I was given it legally and privately, so I hadn’t broken any laws. But once my parents’ security division tracked me down it was impossible to keep it quiet. If I’d signed up openly, I might have been able to negotiate a deal with the military that I serve as Liza, not Isabel. But that isn’t what I did, so my identity was exposed to everyone and my friends dropped me because I’d lied about who I was. They even asked that I be moved to a different cadet unit. I never saw them again.”
“They were that angry with you?”
“I never saw them after it was revealed, I was isolated until the bureaucracy was sorted and then I was told that my friends were so angry with me I was being transferred. Apparently they didn’t think they could trust me anymore.”
Ahmed sighed, his hand sliding down to her neck, his thumb pressing against her pulse point.
“That sounds like an overreaction. Still, you did deceive them.”
“But I didn’t!” Isabel croaked, “I was still me, I didn’t pretend to be that useless at the fitness, or anything else about who I am. It was just my name, and I wasn’t expected to be a princess, that was not real. But I never pretended how I felt about them, or my determination to be a good solider.”
“Hmmm,” Ahmed hummed, his hand on her neck making her feel very vulnerable and small. “Perhaps you should have just entered honestly.”
“No one would let me join if I had tried to do that. I’m a valuable commodity,” muttered Isabel bitterly. Ahmed’s grip on her throat tightened slightly.
“You’re a future ruler of a massive territory which has seen enough war and suffering. Of course people want you to stay safe. No one wants to go through any more uncertainty,” he said darkly. Isabel swallowed, her throat rippling against his palm, and she shivered.
“That’s why I did it,” she said, a tinge of pleading in her voice. “That’s why I joined. I’m expected to take on a huge territory with a complex governmental system, but I felt like I was trapped in a gilde
d cage. I knew I’d crumble like a weakling at the first pressure, so I tried to make myself stronger.”
“By learning to kill?”
“By learning how leaders work!” she gasped, arching her back as her air was restricted a little more. “I wanted to know how to lead effectively, how to sniff out the liars and cut them down before they could manipulate and deceive me. I wanted the military to grind me up and reform me into something worthwhile.”
“And yet you still have panic attacks, so it doesn’t seem to have worked, does it?” asked Ahmed thoughtfully, stroking her throat. Isabel’s whole body went cold and she bit at her lower lip, gripping at his shoulder frantically.
“I… I tried sir, I tried to be stronger, but I… please, I really tried!”
“Sshh,” Ahmed murmured. He wrapped her in his arms and lifted her up, pressing his lips to hers. Isabel threw her arms around his neck, kissing him desperately. His tongue pushed into her mouth, brushing over hers and sending shivers over her skin. With the grip of his arms around her and the heat of his mouth on hers, she felt he was trying to meld them together. She moaned softly as he moved them both, resting his weight on top of her.
“Now,” he murmured, lighting a blaze under her skin with his lips trailing down her neck. “I think it’s time you let someone who knows what you are and what you should be try to remake you. Someone who understands what you think and why you behave as you do. You want someone to take away the fear, don’t you Isabel? You want someone to come along and make it easier for you to be who you are.”
“Y-yes, sir,” she whimpered. His weight was slightly too heavy on her chest, restricting her breathing, but it felt good to be so trapped. “Please sir, I want to be good.”
“And that is the crux of it all, isn’t it? You want to be good. You want to do the right thing for your country, your people, your peers, your family. You want them to look upon you with approval and respect, and you know that none of them do. You’re too weak, too lazy, too fat, too stupid to make that happen, aren’t you?”
Isabel sobbed, covering her eyes with her hand and turning her face away. Ahmed’s words were flaying her open, exposing everything inside her that she had tried so hard to get rid of. Ahmed’s lips brushed her ear as he murmured,
