Fareeha Amari of Mamlakat Alssahra
Fareeha’s hair is ALWAYS styled as shown in this image, just shoulder-length.
Fareeha Amari was not amused.
She was trying her very best to stare down her mother, Ana Amari, who was doing her very best to stare
her down.
They had been as such for the past ten minutes, in one of the many staring contests that they’ve had since she’s spent more time home than at university or in the military. Fareeha didn’t much like being reigned in by her mother. Her father didn’t seem to care too terribly much- he just enjoyed having her around.
”Fareeha, do not argue with me on this. You are wearing this tomorrow, period, end of story. You must appear the part of a true heir to Mamlakat Alssahra- not just another princess.” ”…No. I am wearing what I picked out. You even said that I could pick out my own wardrobe, mother!” ”Do not call me mother, Fareeha, it makes me sound old.” ”You are old, mother. You’re fifty two. And I am not wearing that- I am wearing my wardrobe. Like you said I could.” Her mother waved it aside, and frowned at Fareeha’s donning of her sunglasses.
”I’m still twenty eight, and I haven’t aged once in the past twenty four years. And yes, I said that- but you’re wearing this on the first day. Mother’s orders, father’s orders. We both agreed that it’d be the best first impression representation.” Fareeha huffed, crossing her arms. She picked out a beautiful dress and everything, something that should’ve satisfied both her parents and her own self. She was her own person- why couldn’t she make all her own decisions?
She pointedly ignored the whisper in her head, which pointed out that she had been doing that since she was five.
She turned away, showing her back to her mother, and reluctantly gave in.
”Fine, mother. You win. I’ll wear it, but after that, it’s my own wardrobe. You’re on a suggestion-only basis after that.” Fareeha knew that if her mother really wanted it, there wasn’t much she could do to stop her. Either way, she was going to try to make a stand.
All she received in return was a light, rich laugh.
”I know, my beautiful daisy. Pack up, now, you have a long trip ahead of you.” As her mother left her room, she thought she heard her laugh again, as she walked farther away, and a whisper-
”Mother knows best.”
Fareeha Amari disliked the Mamlakat Alssahra Embassy, in Aciras. It wasn’t that it was ugly, or uncomfortable- it really wasn’t- but rather the lack of vigor in all the people working there. There really wasn’t much to do, after all, besides the usual paperwork and such. Field agents were, as she knew, constantly gathering information that had to be sorted and analyzed, but they were searching for underground activity, by any major player- namely terrorists.
It was all in a day’s work, and Fareeha was the only interesting thing to happen to the Ambassador and his staff for over a year.
So it was natural that he tried his best to try and get to know her, after a seven hour flight and two hours of packing before that.
But Fareeha knew the ins and outs of diplomacy, and politely declined his invitations for dinner, or tea, or coffee, or conversation- repeatedly. And then she went through the same process with the younger, bolder aides and agents that were stationed at the embassy, who thought that they had a chance with her.
Fareeha was exhausted, and wanted desperately to punch the most insolent of the young agents- even if he
was three years older than her. At least she told him off, for being so disrespectful and crude. But no, she couldn’t punch them; that would cause an incident that would blemish her reputation.
Her reputation.
Her reputation is exactly what she wanted it to be- punching someone wouldn’t hurt it, it’d reinforce it. But she guessed it’d tear the young agent’s reputation apart, and so it was… sort of okay.
She rubbed her face. It had been a long day. She’d much rather run four miles than sit on a plane for nearly twice as many hours.
Tomorrow.
That was what really mattered here, but she didn’t care very much. She didn’t really need to be here- she could find a perfectly suitable partner back at the homeland, but nope! She needed to come here, and get shackled down to some bumbling fool from a foreign nation to split their power and waste both of their lives.
But it needed to be done. So she’d do it. They were only prominent because eccentric people- who seemed to make up the majority of the wealthy people in this world- love exotic pets, and because they are the largest producers of refined oil, in its various forms, rather than any political, military, or cultural significance. Her parents thought it was time to change that- by marrying her off to someone else, and then working out whatever awkward and weird situation that follows. What if she married another only child- they’d both have to run their nations, and they’d be married. Which country would they live in? How would they balance things out? Ra preserve her husband if he decided to take on ‘the responsibility’ of leading both of their nations- that’ll never happen with her still breathing.
But it might not matter, and even though she wouldn’t admit it to herself, it scared her.
So she’ll just have to avoid getting married. Come home, explain that everyone else was already interested in someone else, and then try and find someone normal to marry before the next royal convergence begins. Or just bury herself in the military- that would be nicer.
Such a thing was not an option, though. She was a princess, she needed to be royal and all.
She fell back in the embassy’s royal suite’s grand bed, and closed her eyes, sprawled all across the neutral western bedspread. Tomorrow was a new day, and she could make it better. Unfortunately, that would be a real piece of work. She preferred simple soldiers or professors and students over the politics and hierarchy abundant in the palace for a reason- it was easier, and punching someone that was your equal was rather satisfying.
She didn’t like the dress because her mother made her wear it, not because it wasn’t beautiful. She, personally, loved the hell out of the dresses that were good and traditional back home- they were simpler, they had some shiny stuff around the neck, and then they would wear some more shiny stuff around their neck! It was simple, and it wouldn’t make her trip (she was never good with the dresses that had tons of fabric), and yet it was elegant and complex enough to be beautiful and unique.
But her mother made her wear it, and she wanted to wear
her dress. So that was off-putting.
She was currently in her armored limousine, with an entourage of two armored cars and four Aciras motorcycle police officers, two in the front, two in the back, leading the way and clearing the highways. One armored car in front of the limo, one armored car behind. Both of them appeared to be just normal, stereotypically black FBI-ish SUVs, but they were strong enough to take a 25mm high-velocity round to the rear or front and keep going- and the limo was slightly more reinforced, based on the six inches between the exterior and the interior of the car.
It was… not even twenty minutes past the door-opening at the palace. That wasn’t too late, was it? She had left half an hour before, and the embassy was far enough away, and the traffic was so heavy at this hour in the morning, that even a bit of a headstart was slowed down and became nil.
Nonetheless, they soon arrived! Fareeha was busy trying to take a nap when her escort- a man she respected greatly, for he had been her main ‘special combat’ instructor back at home, when she was training to be in the Defense Force- nudged her awake. She respected the man greatly, and would jump into a pit of boiling lava if he said it was the best thing to do, but this was sort-of her show, now, and therefore, she wasn’t going to stand at attention at all times in his presence.
He was mildly amused, of course.
Nonetheless, Fareeha straightened her
white, golden-accented dress, which
opened up on the back rather attractively, and brushed her slightly-messed straightened hair behind her shoulders, making sure her
lapis necklace was righted and in plain sight. With that, she gave the head of her favorite little snake, her
ball python Hadi. “Calm Spirit” the snake was wrapped warmly and comfortably around her right wrist, her offhand side, his little head pointed towards her, his two-foot-long body secure. It hadn’t occurred to her, despite reading about everyone, that Niklas König was absolutely terrified of snakes.
Having finished her little bit of refreshment, she exited the limo, just as it came to a stop at the end of the walkway leading up to the Aciras palace. Like she had the day before when she arrived, she found it to be almost
chilly, so different it was from the normally 95-degree-plus heat that ruled the year back home. The Aciras police had pulled off as they entered the gates of the palace, and so it was only the two armored cars that flanked her limo.
Out from one of them came an animal keeper- one that was wearing a very thick raptor glove. The man with the glove- in the desert-mottled-tan of the Mamlakat Alssahra’s Defense Force, like almost everyone else- held a
moderately-sized wedge-tailed eagle on his left-hand glove. With his right, he had another glove- one the right size for Fareeha. As he approached, he handed Fareeha here glove, which she dutifully slid onto her left hand as well.
Even though the eagle eyed Hadi curiously, with more than innocent interest, she didn’t make any move to bite the reptile, knowing her place and knowing what is and isn’t food. It instead looked to the sky, as she carefully stepped from the man’s glove to Fareeha’s, prompted by a whispered order.
Fareeha now properly geared, with large raptor glove on her left, Hadi the royal python on her right, dress and necklace at the ready, and soft white slippers on her feet (she hated high heels, both because of her balance issues with them on, and because she couldn’t possibly fight with them on), and shoulder-neck-upper-arm scars displayed proudly to the air, she checked one last thing- a quick glance at the black, unyielding, reflective surface of the limo told her that her Eye of Horus tattoo was perfectly fine, sitting there on the left side of her face, right under her eye. Perfect. Fareeha began the walk up to her hosts- the King and Queen of Aciras, with their daughter, the beautiful Princess Raven, and their ally and friend, Prince Niklas König.
Niklas watched with interested, Mai and Liviana disappearing behind him (this goes on the basis that the Niklas-Mai interaction has already finished, as well as Liv’s greeting). Good.
Having finally approached the four royals, she inclined her head slightly as she stiffened in place, and bowed from the waist to a precise 45 degree angle. Normally, girls courtesy, but soldiers bow- and so she bowed. With that, she began speaking, rich and vibrant.
”Greetings, Leaders of Aciras, King Alexander, and Queen Lilliana. It is my honor and pleasure to finally meet the two of you in person. Princess Raven, you as well! A pleasure to be of acquaintance to such a lady. And Prince Niklas Konig, an honor to finally meet you as well! I look forward to sparring with you someday.” Fareeha, throughout it all, had a mildly pleased smile on her face, almost delicate in its gentle curve, but with a certain firmness that suggested that everything she did and said was deliberate- that she said it as she meant it, and she moved like she meant it.
And so it was with that she brought her left hand forward, barking at low volume, command-style,
”Takun muaththiratan!” At the command, the wedge-tailed eagle, who had been eyeing the royal family warily and curiously, raised both of her wings and stretched them out, in an almost luxurious fashion. At the same moment, she extended her neck and preened, her eyes closing slightly from basking in the sun.
As the hawk settled again, Fareeha continued-
”A gift to His and Her Majesty, from Almakat Alssahra, my homeland, the Kingdom of the Desert. I hope that this fine desert hawk would be be sufficient gift for the leaders of such a beautiful land.” Her smile widened, slightly, and a little more warmth seeped into it, just a little bit more than previously. She loved her animals, and this one she had raised from birth.
”For the duration of my stay, one of my escorts will help train one of your people in the ins and outs of taking care of this beautiful raptor- who is unnamed, and was specially bred as a gift to your people.” That wasn’t entirely true, but the hawk was better suited to this environment than the other animals she had at home.
”Thank you for welcoming into your home. Tasahhibuk alssalama- peace be with you, King Alexander, Queen Lilliana.” And with that, she passed on hawk and glove to her escort, and passed on into the inner palace.
She prided herself on noticing all sorts of details- like how both Princess Raven and Prince Niklas eyed Hadi with dread and fear.
She swept into the great hall behind Princess Mai of Liang and Princess Liviana of Lusitania like a step backward into the past. If that made any sense.
Nonetheless, she looked over the great hall with her chin raised, confidence radiating from her. If one didn’t know better, you’d think she owned the place. Her step didn’t even falter as she started curving slightly...
...for the food table. It took less than fifteen seconds to stride right up to it, and pop a random sweet in her mouth. She momentarily ignored the green-clad redhead Cara and her boyfriend (seriously, how was that super subtle hip-bump a sign of anything but boyfriend-girlfriend-to-be? Fareeha knew their history) while her eyes widened in surprise at how sweet it was. They had sweets back at home, but this was
sweet. And it was so
good.
She stuffed a half dozen into her mouth immediately afterwards.
It took her several moments to compose herself from trying so many of the same thing at once, but once she regained her posture, she turned around, and looked around for someone to talk to. There were so many royals, and so little time…
But there was Ariel, standing alone and looking around like Fareeha was.
Mentally shrugging, she marched right up to Ariel, and stood with her hands on her hips, Hadi flickering his tongue in mild annoyance at the sudden movement.
”So you’re Princess Serafina Gray. Mind if I call you Ariel? I’m ‘Princess’ Fareeha Amari, but do just call me Fareeha.”
