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"He's dancing like a damned fool," the Malka told herself under her breath.
She could do nothing to wane her boredom away except to observe the scene taking place before her for it was meant to please her. Naturally, she had the displeasure of being stuck in her seat - watching.
And true to Zartasha's word, there the Sultan was in all his glory; a prowling physique lost in the daze of his elation, celebrating with languid spins and jouncing shoulders; the movements keeping pace with the reverberating drums around them.
They were in the core of the Hyderi mehal, where Kalthuran greed was abundant in the form of Arzam's bride - a perilous girl with a heart of cold stone and a face of cutting gems, on his throne - a seat lined with blood and dripping mortal ichor.
The room that once carried morbidity in its walls now bore witness to rejoicing Kalthuran soldiers while they circled their fanatical ruler with heedful gazes and gaits. The Sultan had his eyes closed whilst his brawn moved with the music, his head slowly twisting with no care for direction. It was a fair depiction of how the king of kings was as boundless in his physicality as he was in his power.
That power was why she was sitting there in the first place, she wanted her share of the wretched thing but Sultan Hyderi wanted her.
It was odd. How he willingly offered his name up to her, how she accepted it only a few moments later.
Marriage.
It was recognized as an esteemed tie, even in the shrewdness of their time and the decorum of their nobility. In a time where chained bodies could be used for pleasure and swords could be used to win wars; why come together? The question would be on the tip of everyone's tongues if they were to hear about their abrupt matrimony. Although the shehzadi of Sherqul had calmly given into the Sultan's - a man's - demands with reasons of her own, she still was left to comb through the remains of her dignity and put her ploy forward but all the justifications in the world did not matter. When an event, a person, a thing is written into the book of one's fate; it happens.
The hearts turn blind but the eyes remain seeing, something similar happened to Zartasha over the course of the past few days in Arzam's ornate cage. A thick cloud of greed and impatience took her over and then she loosened her mouth to agree with what the barbarous ruler was persistent on.
Her.
And the joy of having her in front of him, as his pretty bride was incomparable to that of seeing blood splatter upon foreign sand. The supreme ruler of Kalthura had moved on from conquering lands to conquering queens.
Arzam turned to look at his Malka and when he caught a glimpse of her unimpressed face, the rhythmic folk tunes around him began thrumming within his veins, their fluidity turning fierce in his chest. He wanted to gaze at her as long as time would allow so the Sultan made his way towards the large throne placed in front of him. The beat of the music matched the visible muscles of his arms as he clapped after every step he took.
Under the dark granite and the effervescent jewels of the Hyderi mehal, Sultan Arzam Hyderi and his warriors spinning, grinning, and yelling were a display of brutal male glee. The hulking figures taking part in what she knew was otherwise a virile celebratory war dance on the occasion of their ruler's wedding made her wrinkle her nose in distaste.
The Sherquli shehzadi rolled her eyes and grumbled to herself once again when she realized the men in front of her had no intentions of stopping, "Oh for God's sake."
And when she lowered her gaze from the ceiling, her eyes widened upon seeing Arzam approach her. As if watching him dance like a crazed fanatic wasn't enough, she now had to endure a conversation with him too. She just hoped it wouldn't be of the romantic sort.
Zartasha's heart was already racing within her chest, somewhere the young girl in her was uncomfortable at being seated at the fore of dozens of unknown male soldiers. The only way she endured the evening was knowing the Sultan's proximity to her was far closer and stronger than that of the others, for as of a few hours ago Arzam was her husband and therefore somewhat familiar.
She internally laughed at finding the renowned brute as familiar when said man stood before her and took ahold of her hand. Her half-swallowed gasp was as audible to him as the tinkling sounds her gold bangles made at his pulling. She couldn't hide her base reactions from him even if she wanted, he would not let her. Tucking her silk adorned form under his corded arm, he smiled at the distrust in her eyes of coal. "No one here can even look at you in a manner I do not allow. You are safe."
Zartasha scoffed at his words. She was not in the den of a shair such as him to feel safe. No, she was here to conquer. Kalthura's bride turned to look at her groom, "I am fine but why do I get the feeling that I need to remind you the greatest danger to me here is you."
Sultan Hyderi let out a barking laugh in response. It was low and gritty and, as she had just stated, dangerous. When he saw the sharp glint return to her face, he decided to let her have his answer too. "I never said otherwise, jaan."
As expected the shehzadi was offended at his endearment. She found it insulting, she didn't want his livelihood. The Malka wanted his influence, his taaqat but what she hadn't understood yet was that Arzam wanted her to be his livelihood, his influence.
For now, he had to make do with watching her heave in anger. Painted in the bright shades of her emotions. Flaring nostrils and cutting eyes accompanied her harsh breathing, "Let go of me, you shameless brute."
He indulged her, "You know, you call me shameless far too often and far too freely."
"That is because you are shameless far too often. Like right now, you are being shameless."
"No, right now I am being your husband."
He grinned.
The brazen woman in surkh raised both her arched brows. With a cherry mouth and kajal lining her onyx eyes, she was the lust of his heart. "Let go of my hand right now, Sultan."
Arzam tightened his grip on her gold ladden forearm. There was something about her calling him by his title and not his name that bothered him. He knew she was not the kind of person to think of herself as inferior to him then surely she did it to irk him.
He raised his chin in provocation when she couldn't slip her arms out of his grasp. A moment later, Zartasha's face went blank then she smiled with malice in those eyes of coals. Her arm dipped to the underside of his and when she turned her palm, her nails scratched the surface of his skin. By looking at the Sultan's face she could tell he was surprised. The Malka clawed till she felt the tips of her mehendi-adorned fingers become wet.
The Sultan's hold on her loosened and she moved to step away but he pulled at her wrist instead. Zartasha now realized that what she had written down as surprise was his feral desire coming to life. She took note of his heavily embellished black overcoat on top of a white shalwar kameez. The attire was a fitting picture of how all pure things are ruined by the rotten dark, how simplicity is never enough.
Arzam's movements had a subtle twitch to them, an indicator of how he couldn't control himself. He brought her hands up to his face then he turned himself away from his men. Blocking their view of them when he pulled the ends of her fingers into his mouth. Slowly, he flicked his tongue over the small droplets of blood that had gathered onto her nail bed.
Zartasha was looking at him horrified, her mouth was a line of disgust but it was silent. The Sultan was making it clear to her that he was not angry about what she had done. He didn't wish to hide his fondness for her for that was a fool's way of thinking; the concept that wanting a woman made a man weak when it was what gave them hope. Hope that one day they could fight the world and prove themselves worthy of their lover.
The supreme ruler of Kalthura knew that most of his soldiers were now gawking at them based on how dull the sounds of their celebratory shouts had gotten.
Arzam was a believer in showing off his victories and he would do the same here. Although he would honour his bride's wishes of not announcing their marriage to other lands yet, he had to at least make his best men aware of her status.
"Enough." His command tore through the large space before them and it seemed to have even severed the strings connecting the wood of the drums to their barrels since all sound ceased to exist after Arzam's voice.
He took one look at the Malka and he understood she would not currently fight him because she seemed curious as to what he wanted now. Sultan Hyderi took her hand in his and brought their arms over the throne so the royal pair could stand in front of their subjects.
The Sultan straightened and it was only now that Zartasha felt it beside herself. She felt the formidable, fear-inciting man's true nature make an appearance when his cold rings came into contact with her skin as he helped her onto his throne once again.
She was about to rise when he murmured, "Shush, jaan."
Disturbed by his words, she stayed quiet for a moment and that was all Arzam needed before ordering his men, "Bow."
Hurriedly, all the bodies in the room except for the two of them fell to their knees. The men bent their heads, looking at the ground waiting for their Sultan's next order. His following words confused them but their replies were instant.
He amusingly asked, "Do you know who you are bowing to right now?"
Dozens of voices answered in unison, "You, Hukum."
Zartasha had an inkling as to what the Sultan was trying to tell her. He wanted her to know that no one would recognize her as their ruler even if she was sitting upon the shahi throne of a mulk. She had to bite her bitter thoughts back before she said something that would make her feelings apparent.
"No." Arzam's quick snarl shocked the men and their fear turned the air suffocating when he stated, "Bow to your Malka. Zartasha Fahim Hyderi."
All of them paled at their mistake.
The said woman was unpleasantly surprised herself. She did not know what the Sultan was playing at now but even she had to remind herself that as a shahi woman, she was deserving of the same decorum he was as a man. That this was not Sherqul. What she had failed to realize was that although Arzam was hungry for blood and abundance, he was aware that Zartasha had starved for respect her entire life so that was the first thing he would gift her.
And at the sight of the subservient bodies before her, at the possibility of being recognized as a queen, the naive woman in her smiled. She forgot herself in her small milestone of hukmarani and when the Sultan saw her joy overcome her doubts, he decided he wanted more time with his radiant bride.
And so he gave his soldiers their last order of the day. He would see to their lack of respect for their Malka later.
"Leave."
With the command to leave him alone with Zartasha, the glimmering throne room became vacant after a few moments. The only souls under the bright stones were the Sultan and his Malka.
Despite the support he had just attempted to show, she knew the depravity of the man in front of her was incomprehensible. She had to be careful and hold onto her wits with him. She was apprehensive about many of the things he had said, about his motives most of all. Why did Sultan Arzam Hyderi seem delighted with only having her by his side, he didn't even know who she really was and what she had done yet.
Arzam suddenly brought his hand out to touch her face, the bite of his metal rings harsh against the warm line of the Malka's jaw.
She hissed, "What are you doing?"
He seemed lost in a daze as he answered, "Looking at my cruel, beautiful dulhan."
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