Prologue: In the Kingdom of Rienbul
Side View: Shahrnaz
I was happy, so very happy.
As the daughter of a noble—and a duke at that—I knew I would marry for politics. Love would never be a part of it.
My parents were like that. Marriage and children were obligations. Work. Once a child was born, their job was done. The rest could be left to servants and wet nurses.
I only saw my parents in the manor a handful of times a year. All other times, they stayed with their various lovers.
I believed that was just how nobles were. I believed that was just how marriage was.
The servants had other jobs to do, so they couldn’t be with me at all times. To them, caring for me was just another duty, and they only did the bare minimum of what was required.
And so, I believed that was just how my life was.
It all changed when I was a student. Meeting Prince Raheem changed my everything.
Prince Raheem was incredibly popular amongst the ladies from the moment he began attending the academy—unsurprisingly, since he was the king’s only son. The house a woman marries into determines her life.
That wasn’t the only reason for his popularity, though. He was tall and handsome. He could be arrogant and pushy, but that was countered by his looks and status, only increasing his popularity.
I, too, was one of the ladies who swooned over him.
Considering I was a lady of a duke’s house, it wouldn’t be odd if I married into royalty, but I didn’t believe I could possibly approach the prince.
We sometimes greeted each other when we crossed paths at the academy, which was enough to satisfy me. And it was why I was so utterly shocked when it happened.
“You’ve been on my mind from the moment we met. I want you to become my princess consort.”
I thought I was dreaming when he said that to me.
“How incredible! I guess even you can manage things when you try,” said my mother in one of the rare instances she spoke to me.
“Well done. A duke is always delighted to have a tie between his family and the royal family,” said my father, in an uncommon compliment.
They saw me for the first time. They spoke to me. They acknowledged my existence. That made me happy.
And I was engaged to the prince I had pined over. That was the first time I knew joy and happiness.
That was why I forgot. I forgot that for nobles and royals, marriage was just a job, and love or happiness wasn’t involved. It was something I should have never forgotten.
“Shahrnaz, I’m sorry. I have a previous arrangement to meet her,” he would say. “I’m sorry.”
“…It’s nothing, Your Highness. Please, enjoy yourself.”
“I will. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
The prince was still popular with plenty of ladies even after becoming engaged, and he was so social he regularly went out with people other than me.
But it’s fine. I’m his betrothed. We will marry, and he will pay attention to me once I bear him a child. But…isn’t bearing a child just work? Once that is done, will our relationship be over?
No, it couldn’t possibly. I’m not just some object meant to birth him an heir. I’m going to give life to the future king of this country. I have nothing to worry about.
I pay no mind to the ladies who smile proudly at me as they go out with the prince, who sneer at me, the person the prince didn’t invite out. I am his fiancée, after all.
And right now, I am so happy. After all, in the most literal sense, I am the only one who can stand beside the prince.
✦ ✦ ✦
†††
WHY?
We graduated from the academy and married. I gave birth to a child, a boy with silver hair and blue eyes. We named him Shaghad. Everyone was happy, as they should be. It was the birth of Rienbul’s successor. So many servants and nobles congratulated me.
Even my parents told me I did well.
I did my job well, as I was meant to. So then…why?
“He won’t be home today either?”
“My apologies, my lady. His Highness is out on business. He likely won’t return this evening.”
Liar. I know what’s going on. I know where he is, who he’s with, and what he’s doing.
Tell me then: why?
“Mother?”
In such a short time, Shaghad, once just a babe, had grown into a four-year-old boy. How many times has his father returned to the royal palace in that time? How many times has he even seen his son’s face? How many times has he even spoken to me?
“Mother, are you lonely?”
Oh, what a kind child. A lovely child. The child that came from the prince and me.
He squeezed my hand, looking uneasy, but smiled and said, “I’m here with you. Be happy.”
“Be happy?” I repeated.
“Mother?”
That’s right. I have a child here. I gave birth to the future king. And yet, the prince still won’t come back.
“Why isn’t it him here by my side?” I said aloud.
“……”
Not that anything would come of asking this child that.