Pari would be quite disappointed if she were on time. It would mean she would get lost in the crowd of people and then where would she be? Forgotten. A mere smear of color amongst the masses. She had come here to create alliances and perhaps find a potential partner. No, it would do much better to be late. Then all would see her come in, all her glory and beauty displayed before them. People would look and remember. Men would go to bed with her as the last thing on their minds. She came to make an impression.
This was why she had chosen a decadent
outfit of red and gold dress with a long matching veil. Her jewelry was magnificent and only served to brighten the deep bronze of her flesh. A nose ring of a large hoop connected with decorative coins hanging from a chain to her ear. A large gold circle encrusted with a ruby hung over her part and emblazoned over her forehead. Her fingers were bejeweled with rings and both her ankles and wrists carried bangles and bells. Every step she took conveyed a soft jingling sound of musical quality. Not only would they see her, they would hear her. Despite all her finery she herself, in her magnificence and confidence, appeared to be worth more than all the gold that decorated her body.
It had taken her maids an hour to wash her body clean and apply scented oils of opium to her flesh giving her a deep, sexual scent. They had combed her hair and done it up in intricate and weaving braids around her head and down her back. The princess’ eyes were lined in kohl to accentuate them, but no more make-up was required for her already perfect looks. Her clothing and jewelry were placed with care. Three hours it took for the princess to look her absolute finest.
During this time, she had placed her first brother Rahman, for it would take him far less time and concertation to get ready, in charge of the tiger cub Lal - first son and only child of Pari’s closest friend and guard Lavanya. For, who better to keep safe a wild and exotic princess than a wild and exotic tiger? Unfortunately, Lavanya herself had to stay home for now. These people would have been terrified of her and she would have loathed staying cooped up in the inn.
She stepped from her room in the magnificent inn which specialized in entertaining foreign dignitaries. There were carpeted halls and a bath with hot water in every room for those that could afford it. The beds were lush and soft, and the serving people (notwithstanding her own excellent servants) polite and accommodating. Pari turned to her head maid with a furrowed brow and asked
“To where has my brother gotten? He should have been waiting to meet me.” The sound of heavy cursing drifted upward from the garden outside, the deep sonorous tones letting Pari know that Rahman was not happy. The specific words were indistinguishable, but a small yowl let her know that the tiger cub was causing trouble. She felt a moment of worry, not for her brother for the man could certainly care for himself, but for the tiny beast that had been left in his care. Rahman had endless patience for ambush, but very little when it came to anything else.
“Bloody feline…” The cursing ended at last and she could hear him muttering as he made his way up the stairs and into the carpeted hallway. He was wearing a black robe that fell to his feet, red trim neatly highlighting the edges. A white keffiyeh fell to his shoulder, held in place by a ring of gold inlaid with black obsidian and a single row of glittering stones. It was fancy dress for Rahman and he fidgeted with the golden belt about his waist. He glanced up as he crested the stairs and his dark features split into a broad smile as he laid eyes on her.
“Ah, little sister. You are as beautiful as a summer breeze.”She smiled in return, glad to see him well after hearing his discomfort with Lal. “Darling brother, I hope the son of my heart gave you little trouble,” she spoke in a delightful and musical tone.
“Where is the dear little one?” she inquired, coming close. Her hand rested upon his chest as another concerned look crossed her face.
“Lavanya would so so sad to learn I lost her first son.” And so too would the King when his gift did not arrive, though she was sure he did not expect it.
“You still have him?”He could feel his heart quicken as she laid a hand on his chest and cupped her small face with one scarred hand, a thumb running gently across her lips.
“I have not lost him, though he did attempt to escape, making the outer lawn before I ran him to ground.”He lifted the edge of his robe to show a small series of frantic claw marks that had shredded the lowest hem.
“He managed to defend himself with great honour.” He laughed.
“I was certain you would be proud.”She laughed lightly and nuzzled her cheek against his palm.
“Oh, I am quite proud that he should prove himself to be all his upbringing should dictate.” She kissed her brother’s palm before looking about.
“What have you done with my darling nephew?” He should now be in the basket to be brought forth by the slaves.
“I hope you did not wound him.” She pouted delightfully and pressed herself close to her brother.
“I would be most upset”“Fear not,” he replied with a charming smile he shared with few,
“I gave him up to those who would bring him to the party. He is kept safe in his basket crate.”Pari glowed with glee as she threw her arms about her brother’s neck and nuzzled her cheek against him.
“You have been most doting and adoring. Thank you for your part in this.” The princess kised his cheek before linking her arm through his.
“It is likely well past time that we got to our destination.”It was a delightfully short carriage ride from the delegate’s inn to the castle. More so for the servants holding the beast than the two royals. Her brother patiently listened to the young woman chatter about her hopes and expectations. He was surprisingly calm about her court chatter for a man who had spent most of his life upon the battlefield. Despite this rift in their upbringing, Pari had a knack for relating somethings in military terms. She understood quite well the sort of gentleman she should charm, after all. Her only hope was that she might catch a stupid one so that she might have a chance at rule. Pari knew, despite her wild ways, she could rule a kingdom from the shadows as her great mother had taught her.
Finally, they arrived at their destination. Rahman lead her from the carriage as any diligent brother might, but the looks on the servants faces at their late arrival made Pari scowl.
“It is as if they were kept on the edge of a coin of punctuality,” she muttered in Urso.
“Have they never experienced the dignified entrance of those of Usamolia?” While in many countries poignancy of arrival was a must, lateness for the sake of beauty was common among the Usamolie; a party always started an hour or two later than the appointed time. And a royal was always expected late. To see their underhanded glares made Pari huff.
“Rakta,” she muttered beneath her breath as she was escorted inward by he brother.
She could feel the stale silence. All eyes were upon her as she had anticipated. She paused a mere moment to speak to a servant so that he may relay their entrance. At first he was hesitant, but Pari removed herself from her brother to bring one hand to the man’s chest and the other to the back of his neck as she muttered in his ear. He turned a light red, though she spoke nothing more than her request. It was the mre proximity of her touch that had him bothered - though in her world such touch was meaningless.
The red flush vanished the moment the servant met the gaze of her brothers dark face, so unusual in this crowd of pale ones. His features shone like polished ebony in the light of the room , the candlelight flashing off his gold crown. He towered above her, eyes probing the room, taking in the faces, the glances, judging and searching for others in the crowd. He recognized more than a few and was pleased to see a number of attractive women present. There were several pale ones in his harem but none worthy of making a wife.
The servant scurried his way to the King and the Queen Regent before introducing the pair to the room. Arm in arm the siblings arrived before the royalty of Veritron. Pari carried herself with aplomb to the end of the stage. With a graceful and theatrical curtsey, her body jingled and created a courteous invite to look.
“Your royal highnesses,” she said in a musical tone,
“I thank you most graciously for your invitation to your grand ceremony. I look forward to meeting you and your most elegant and artistic peoples.” Pari stood tall, as much as a small woman could, and proud as she eyed the pair of rulers.
“It is custom amongst my people to bring a gift to those that host us. From my country I bring you Lal, the first born son and only child of my dear Lavanya.” She held out a sweeping hand and a group of servants brought forth the basket which shook wildly with an angry low throated growl.
Once the lid was off, a young tiger cub of black with white stripes peeked his head over the top.
“I do so hope you enjoy our gift. And if it pleases your majesty I would be thrilled to teach you the ways to upbring such a beast.” Once again Pari curtsied low before taking the young beast from her servant’s hands. The cub chuffed and snuggled against her neck, a familiar scent against many foreign ones. She placed the small creatures in the King of Veritron’s arms. She gave him her most regal and kindest of smiles before whispering,
“I hope you find me soon,” and then returned to her sibling who had offered a stiff bow in his own fashion.
She hoped perhaps the King understood. She not only was giving him the first born but the first born son. This signified the sort of bed she and her people were willing to get into. Even if he chose her not as a wife but perhaps her brother as a confidant… Her intention was to create a grand relation. Would he see that?
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