[ WATTYS '18 LONG-LISTED ]
❝ I have slit throats far more beautiful than yours.❞
In which a thousand brides have fallen, and she is the last, so she spins a tale as old as time to live the dawn.
| an arabian nights x beauty and the beast crossover...
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SHE IS GOING TO VISIT the dungeons again. Even as the foreshadowing of evening warns her against it, Shahrazad hurriedly smoothens her silks. She had fallen asleep today, tiredness and hollow eyes spurring her face. But the threat of the sliver of moon is not going to stop her. She'll meet Afshar, she'll ask him everything, about the rebellion, about her baba, and most importantly, whether they really mean to kill Shahryar.
She has to.
"Do you ever listen to anyone, Malika?" Laleh sighs, crossing her arms. "You're literally inviting your death. It's almost nighttime."
Shahrazad rests her fingers on the intricate surface of the railing, gripping the ivory edges. The sea of endless sand spins, greying under the cloak of darkness. "I know."
She turns towards the handmaiden, face sombre. "Are you telling me whatever you know about the uprising?"
Hesitation; it flickers across her cocoa dusted eyes. "Of course."
The storyteller's heart sinks. Everyone seems to lie, right through their pearly teeth. She doesn't understand why they aren't willing to tell her the unpolished truth. "Why won't you tell me?"
"Some things are better left in the dark, Shahrazad," she says softly, "Trust me, I know."
It's as she begins to speak that the hinges scrape, the doors are wrenched apart, and she holds her breath all at once.
"News." Anwar. She releases her breath. "The rebels are on their way." And it stops.
His brow is lined with sweat, perspiration sheeted on his forehead. "I came back from the vizier's camp site in the desert. He's sending a small troop to break in."
While Laleh's smile lights up, Shahrazad's stomach churns with an unfamiliar reluctance. All along, she has wanted this, yet it feels like something is so horribly wrong. "Are you sure that they can take on the King?"
Anwar shuts the doors, momentarily pressing his ears against it in preparation of any intruder. "No, this one is to break our prisoner out of the dungeons."
She can simply whisper. "You know him?"
"Not really, but the vizier thinks highly of him," the rider shrugs. "And he's the leader, so we do as he says, and tonight, we attack."
Shahrazad grabs fistfuls of her skirts, nerves shaking. "We aren't ready."
Laleh tucks her hair behind her ears, eyes lighting. "Even if we aren't, we've waited enough for this night, Malika."
Fools, fools, fools.
This is not the night, and it is going to get them all killed. She can feel it. Shahryar's expertise with the sword is something she does not doubt, after all, she had seen it during her first night in the palace. He can, and will slit their throats if provoked. The cover of darkness cannot conceal an entire band of rebels, and she knows it. "You said it's about freeing the prisoner tonight. But that will only put him on alert, and he'll appoint more guards in case of a future outbreak."
