Indifference

Zefra paced anxiously, glancing toward the door every few moments.

Then Siddin appeared in the doorway.

It had been a week since she had last seen him.

A week since the incident that had stolen her appetite and sleep.

He was heavily intoxicated.

Without a word, he stumbled toward the bed and sprawled across it.

The scent clinging to his tunic told Zefra enough.

Perfume.

Not hers.

He had been enjoying the company of other women, a fact confirmed when, half-conscious, he began mumbling unfamiliar names.

Zefra had spent the entire week dreading his return.

She had feared his jealousy, his anger, even punishment. She should have feared the silence that came instead.

The following nights were no different.

Sometimes Siddin returned after midnight. Sometimes not at all. Even when he came back, he would sleep for a few hours before disappearing again.

No matter what she wore or how carefully she styled her hair, the warmth that had once lived in Siddin’s eyes was gone. They had once held affection and recognition; now, whenever Zefra looked into them, she found nothing.

Perhaps it was only the burden of the crown, or the weight of so many responsibilities, that had changed him.

Still, Zefra waited with a persistence she could not quite let go of. But the gifts stopped coming. So did the extra attention and the value that had once been placed upon her.

The changes were small at first. Fresh flowers no longer appeared in her chambers each morning. New fabrics stopped arriving from the royal stores, and dishes Siddin once ordered especially for her vanished from the evening trays.

Even the servants had begun to change. Women who once hurried to straighten her veil or refill her cup now found reasons to look elsewhere, while conversations sometimes fell silent when she approached.

Naila had changed too, though in ways far easier to overlook. She still accompanied Zefra when required and occasionally warned her against wandering too far through the palace, but the concern that once accompanied those warnings had disappeared.

Her performance remained one of the most talked-about in the palace, but admiration did not always mean acceptance. Zefra began noticing the looks from maids and concubines, the whispers about her complexion, her accent, and the customs she had brought with her

She told herself it would change when Siddin returned to himself.

The palace that had once seemed magnificent now felt increasingly suffocating.

The highlight of her days remained the library.

Her new friend was free-spirited, and his knowledge of customs, lore, distant cities, and unfamiliar people fascinated Zefra.

Zefra had even begun removing her veil around him. The first time she did, he stared for a moment before smiling.

“Ah, God. You’re gorgeous.”

They talked and laughed for hours.

Sometimes he even brought her treats unlike anything she had been served at the palace.

-------------------------

Then, on an otherwise uneventful night,  Siddin sat across from prince Sheikh 

“Royal favor suits you, brother.”

Sheikh said nothing.

Siddin smiled faintly.

“Though battlefields and thrones demand very different men.”

“And yet the treasury empties while you sit upon one.”

Siddin’s expression tightened.

“I know the tides are turning in your favor.”

“They are.”

“So let us stop pretending.”

Sheikh leaned back.

“What do you want?”

“One more year.”

“As Crown Prince?”

“Yes.”

“And what do I receive?”

Siddin’s lips curved with satisfaction.

“The one thing that seems to have caught your interest.”

Sheikh’s gaze sharpened.

Siddin leaned forward.

“That necklace was worth thousands of shillings, was it not?”