Imperial

33. Roshani

Roshani felt small, small and weak and afraid. The sculpted columns of the palace walls loomed large around her, imposing and grand. It was dark, only mounted torches and intricate chandeliers lighting the halls. Roshani stood tall in spite of her fear- her mother had taught her never to be afraid of anything.

She didn't know where she was going exactly, but something unexplainable drew her further down the hall. Her pretty nightgown trailed along the marble floor, her tiny feet pattering against the cold stone.

"Roshani."

Roshani turned at her mother's voice. There was a door to her left that hadn't been there before- the door to her and her mother's chambers.

The Empress of Sazia, her royal highness Queen Yasmin was the most beautiful woman in the empire, Roshani was certain. Her features weren't delicate and soft like most palace ladies, but bold and distinguished, just as beautiful and even more fascinating. Her dark curls were tied back behind her ears, which were studded with large round sapphires. The jewels still dulled when compared to her mother's eyes, which sparkled like the reflection of the stars upon the ocean waves at night.

A mischievous smile lit up the Empress's face. "It's late. You know you should be in bed, little daeva." Her tone was stern but her eyes were full of mirth. Roshani took a step in her mother's direction, then froze. Her mother suddenly frowned.

"What's that, Roshani?"

Roshani looked down. She held a small, glass vial in her hands. It hadn't been there before, but now she clutched it tight.

Her mother's brow furrowed in concern. "Bring that here right now." Roshani took a step back. She wanted to listen to her mother, but the desire to protect her was stronger. She knew she was capable of saving her.

Roshani dashed away down the hall, until the surprised cries of her mother demanding she return faded away. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, until she was bending over and gasping for breath.

When she looked up again, she was at the threshold of the door to another chamber. This one was less familiar to her, but she recognized it nonetheless: the chambers of Empress Tarsa, her mother's bitter rival. Roshani's hand clenched around the vial, anger flaring in her chest. She stepped toward the door.

"Roshani?"

Roshani's head turned toward the voice. Soraya stood a few paces away, rubbing her eyes and tilting her head to the side. She was so little, still only four years old. A sharp spike of fear went down Roshani's spine at the sight of her. She wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to see... The last thing she wanted was to get Soraya involved in this too.

But her oblivious little sister only tilted her head in curiosity. "What are you doing?" she asked. "What's that in your hand..."

Roshani opened her mouth to answer, but before she could the scene around her suddenly shifted. She was no longer in the palace halls at night, but kneeling before her father's throne in broad daylight. Only his closest advisors and several heads of the great houses were present, in addition to Roshani and Soraya. The Shah's expression was of mingled rage, horror, and sadness, as if his mind simply could not comprehend all of the emotions turning in his head.

Slowly, he turned his piercing gaze away from Roshani and toward Soraya.

"Is your sister telling the truth?" he asked her. He didn't shout it, but Soraya still shook like a leaf, clearly terrified and bewildered by being under the spotlight for the first time. Roshani desperately caught her gaze. She knew tears were streaming down her face, she knew Soraya was young and scared but she still begged her silently. Please, she pleaded. Please tell the truth.