Ajab’s face tightened in thought.
"Gone where?" he asked. "I thought Grandfather was sick. Where could he have possibly gone? Isn’t it also late for a horse ride? What are you talking about, Mother?"
Queen Stiana sank to his height, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. She forced a small brittle smile that died halfway, her gaze soft and heavy with the weight of the news she was about to deliver.
"Your grandfather has no more breath in him, Ajab. He’s stopped breathing."
Ajab frowned slightly. His eyes darted to the right, then back to hers. He cracked a small, uncertain smile.
"What do you mean, he’s stopped breathing, Mother?"
"He left us this morning"
His Frown tightened even more "Could Mother speak in plain words?"
"I’m sorry Ajab" she said, her voice heavier "Your Grandfather is dead"
His face darkened as it dropped towrds the floor— this time, like a heavy gathering storm.
"I see. Where is he?" He asked, his face still towards the floor, his voice soft and cold, so cold the Queen could feel its shiver.
Not wasting a moment’s breath, the Queen reached out to embrace him, his tiny body fitting perfectly into her warm embrace, his head resting on her shoulders, his face, the same— coldly dark "I’m really sorry Ajab, Mother...is sorry?" Each word from her mouth felt like they could crumble a mountain with their weights.
Yet like oil on water, they could not mix with Ajab, as his cold voice tingled in her ears.
"What is Mother doing?" It wasn’t a whisper, but it just might have been.
"Mother is being a mother" she replied in a soft whisper.
"Where is He, Mother?" He asked for the second time.
Seeing how he was bent on knowing, she pulled him out of her embrace. Her hands softly planted on his shoulders. She looked over his face. They were still — too still. His eyes were dull, reflecting nothing, and remained fixated on the floor.
Her lips parted, but no words came. The corners of her mouth trembled as she tried to hold the smile that wasn’t there. Her eyes lingered on him — full of warmth and ache all at once
Before she managed to speak
"His body is in the Royal Rites Palace"
"I see"
"It still needs..."
The Queen was taken back in quick shock as she realized her son wasn’t in her grasp anymore.
In the time it took her to close her eyes in a sigh, he had already gotten to the door.
"Aj..."
In the split second before she could recover herself from the surprise, her attempt to call him fell through as he was already out the door.
"Isn’t that the Thousand Steps?" The voice of the figure felt like the cool breeze from a frozen lake in a sunny meadow, it was soft and specifically made for her distinctive figure. There was a rhythm in her form— full where it needed to be, slender where it wasn’t. A figure shaped by soft, generous curves.
Under the luminous light of the Light Stones her eyes shimmered with the hue of burnt bronze, flaring brighter when she saw the Young Prince move.
A small scar— almost going unnoticed — brushed the corner of her lips, adding a touch of otherworldly artistry to her already glimmered face.
Standing close to the Queen as she asked, it was impossible to miss the uncanny resemblance of the two.
"It would seem so" Her voice remained heavy, as her gaze remained planted at the ghost of his vanishing.
"Did you see him open the door though?"
The Queen’s eyes squinted before widening as she turned to the soft figure, her question just brought her to a sudden realization
"Did you?" She asked her eyes pleading for clarity.
"I did not" Their eyes remain locked as they blinked hard with an ’what in the ...’ passing between them.
In Izz, the duty of gatekeeping was a noble one to those who were in this service — well molded in the art of opening the palace doors. Sensitive to sounds, their ears had never failed them at the right times to open up a door, for an incoming or outgoing royalty.
But today, the two stationed here today were not sure how to make this report, or if it was even a report — the Prince just stood in the middle of them.
That might as well been a headline.
They might have to add that they didn’t even notice he was standing there, till they saw his Other Half bow his head towards their direction.
It made no sense. Everyone in the palace knew Young Lord Ecnes, not for his status in his family, but his attitude in the King’s — he pays attention to no one except His Highness the Prince.
So why was he bowing in their direction? What was this unidentified display?
Mysteries are better off solved, no need to keep questions in a box. In that spirit they traced his gaze to the middle of the door— also in-between them— at the landing of their gazes their hearts sank, their faces took a different turn — of horror— as it almost fell off — it was the Prince.
At the hallway leading to the chamber the Prince had marched in earlier, The twenty-four officials lined up in twelves opposite each other leaving the walkway free remained planted. The maids that accompanied the Prince here remained at the start of this line up, and Elmah with them.
Liah had remained at the end, just before the doors. the closer to the Prince, the better
It was only for a brief moment, but Liah could feel the sudden change in environment. In a split, her eyes moved to the same spot that got the Doormen stoked.
It was like a mirage, but she was sure she saw the Prince.
The gasp of an official from the middle of the line up caused her attention to follow according, and also for a ’briefer’ moment, she could recognize the back of the individual — 3.8 feet in height , a fluffy white night robe, and a distinctive back view, definitely the Prince’s back.
It blurred again before becoming clearer but this time, it seemed to have covered another distance, before coming to a quick pause just in front of Elmah, before zipping off in the same manner.
Lifting his head to follow suite Elmah glanced at the stunned Liah who just seemed motionless in his view.
Catching the gaze of the Young Ecnes, Liah felt a cold chill as his now Cold Blued iris fell on her. She felt the eyes wanted to pierce her and at the same time keep her locked in her stance.
Seeing the door open and the Prince walk out, Elmah wasn’t sure why everyone remained plastic — not bowing at the emergence of the Prince.
He bowed his head in a slight bend, but he could still notice no one else was doing the same.
The Prince walked pass everyone and the only response was a silly gasp as if they’d seen a ghost. Worst off, they still didn’t change their attitude — still remainded rooted-plastic.
When the Prince walked past him he decided to keep this grudge for another time, but did not mind to glare at Liah for not following his Highness. Why was she just there, basking in stillness?
Turning to His Highness, Elmah noticed he had covered a few more steps that would require him to fasten his pace a little bit to catch up — seemed he spent much time glaring.
Trying to take a second step he noticed his legs grew heavy and his head began ringing.
He shook it off and tried to take another. step.
The soft sound of a droplet caught his attention drawing him to take a look.
A red substance, it just barely missed his foot— falling just a tiny space away. It looked like blood, and worse off, it seemed to be have fallen from his face.
The next drop fell, and he caught it with his hand. He traced upward. The source seemed to be from his eyes.
His hand connected with his eyes and it felt weird — blood was falling like tears off his already baggy dark-lined eyes.
His vision blurred. He reached his hand towards his Highness, who was a good distance away.
Everything went dark.
He fell—unconscious.