Seelima- the queen mother could not remember the last time she had been so angry.
Even when she was captured by Amenheraft, he had been cordial and respectful, at least on the surface.
But now a lowly mercenary, a brat, was openly mocking her, her skin, her race, her people, her pride.
She had suffered countless abuse from jealous ladies of the haram and from many in the court because of her exotic skin tone that made her stand out.
She was seen as nothing more than a toy the king would get soon tired of after playing with her for a few days and many were eager to make the twelve-year-old know her place.
But she proved those jeerers wrong, as she did stay under the king’s favor for a long time, slowly winding her finger around the king, and over twenty-one long years gained power in the shadows step by step, slowly and methodically gaining allies and influence to the point she could do such things as kill the king and queen.
And along the way she had not spared those who had spurned her, making them die hideously, either by her hand or by the king’s under her manipulation.
And thus, she had thought she had escaped the fate of being judged by her skin.
But now, a street urchin who didn’t know up from the down was insulting her just because he had some men under him.
“*Screech*,” Seelima stood up with a mighty push of the chair, making an ear-crushing noise, and seemed ready to storm out.
Ptolomy too followed as he addressed his family, “Let’s go.”
But Alexander was not finished with his talks and commanded a single word, “Sit.”
And with strong, muscular men guarding the entrance, the royal family saw no way to leave and could only reluctantly return to their seats, though their relations with Alexander seemed to have reached a freezing point.
Alexander turned to smile at the frosty faces and said, “There seems to be a misunderstanding. When I said the Queen mother was likely a slave because of her skin tone, I didn’t mean it as being derogatory or an insult.”
“I meant it as praise because I was a slave as well,” Alexander frankly disclosed.
This reveal had an immediate reaction as the frosty face melted to form glaciers of surprise and intrigue.
“You..you were a slave?” Seelima asked incredulously.
Ptolomy had told her of Alexander’s accomplishments and his eloquence and she couldn’t believe such a person was a slave.
Seelima had presumed Alexander to be likely a noble whose home city had been destroyed and the mercenary group he belonged to be made up of soldiers that were once his family’s guards.
Such stories were rare but not unheard of.
But now the man… the boy was himself claiming to be a slave?
How?
Alexander quite enjoyed seeing the surprised looks on people’s faces when he told them he was a slave.
It made him feel vindicated that the last ten years of his struggle were not in vain.
In reply to Seelima’s question, Alexander chortled, “Yes, I was a slave until four days ago when my master Nestoras was killed in battle with the Adhanians.”
“My ownership was then passed on to my mistress,” Alexander then gestured to Cambyses who was silently enjoying her lunch along with the others while enjoying this delightful show.
“And she was kind enough to give me my freedom and well….the rest is history,” Alexander lightly explained the story of his emancipation.
“He has always been an unruly slave. Though now I do regret a bit setting him free,” Cambyses softly said her first words, while taking a big swing of her cup to hide her playful smile.
‘Darn woman, just because I haven’t spanked you one day you let your ego swell so much?’ Alexander sent a glare to Cambyses.
‘Heh, if you don’t like that, come discipline me,’ Cambyses’s mirthful eyes sent flirtatious looks toward Alexander.
This little subtle teasing play went under the radar of most people as they were more stunned by the revelation of his former slave status.
Even Ptolomy, who knew Alexander was a slave didn’t know for how long he was a slave and had assumed the boy was a freedman for a few years.
And thus was left speechless after knowing he was a slave just five days ago.
“Battle…which battle?” Ptolomy’s wife Nanazin still seemed confused about the time frame.
“The battle where Amenhearaft destroyed us just five days ago. To be more precise, my master died at the second battle that occurred at dusk.” Alexander clarified.
“And I gave him his freedom the next morning, four days from today,” Cambyses helped the noble woman do the math.
Alexander then cheerfully recounted the events of the past few days.
“Oh, how fickle fate is.”
“Just five days ago, Amenhearft was flying in the clouds thinking his capital was safe and the rebellion was over.”
“Just five days ago, I was a mere slave, worth less than a stone on the road.”
“Just five days ago, we were dejected and wrapped in grief about our loss.”
“Just five days ago, Your Majesty was running for his life.”
“And now, just five days after, we control Adhan, Amenheraft has run away with his tail tucked between his tail, and a mere slave is dining as equals to gods in human form.”
Alexander then couldn’t stop him from quoting Vladimir Lenin, “Sometimes there are decades where nothing happens. Sometimes there are days where decades happen.”
This deep quote drew astonished and shocked looks from everyone, even his own people as many were sent into their own thoughts and started recalling what they were doing and how their lives were different just five days ago.
And the answer they all came up with was that it was vastly different from the situation they were in now.
So different that even if they were to be told of the things about to happen today yesterday night, they still would not have believed them.
Alexander then finished his reasoning, “So, you see, with me being a slave, I can empathize with the kind of struggle and intelligence one needs to possess to survive and thrive in a royal haram for twenty-seven years.”
“For that, you have my respect.” Alexander then downed another gulp of wine.
This show of respect softened Seelima’s heart a bit and she decided not to appear outright hostile to Alexander.
Instead, her hostility was replaced with both curiosity and a bit of dread and she made up her mind to grill Ptolomy for more information about Alexander.
Alexander then asked Ptolomy raising his eyebrow, “Your Majesty, how come you took Princess Hellma with you and left your family behind when you escaped?”
Ptolomy flushed at this question but his wife quickly saved him, “Because I told him to. Husband’s mother died young and he was basically raised by the Queen mother, who looked after him like a real son.”
“So, when we thought the rebellion was lost and only one person could go with him, we unanimously chose it to be Hellma, so Queen Mother’s bloodline wouldn’t die.” Nanazin said, though to Alexander it seemed the woman was speaking so quickly to hide something.
‘Heh, I bet the real reason is because he’s in love with his half-sister, but is too ashamed to say it. Hmm, he probably loves her more than her family,’ Alexander sensed a weird tension between Hellma and Nanazin but decided to keep quiet about this useful information for now.
Instead, he asked, “Oh, yeah, weren’t the royal ladies captured by Amenhearft? How did your royal highnesses survive?”
“*Sigh*, we don’t know. We were caught immediately after Amenheraft entered the palace and was thrown into the dungeon. As to why he didn’t immediately execute us, only he can say.” Nanazin was still having traumatic flashes about spending her days in that cold, dark place with no sunlight. 𝒃𝙚𝙤𝙫𝒆𝒍．𝙘𝒐𝙢
“Perhaps he wanted to use us hostages or bargaining chips. Or get confessions. Or maybe publicly execute us. Who knows.” Seelima gave a whole bunch of reasons.
“Well, I am very glad the royal ladies are safe.” Alexander only lightly smiled.
“And that leaves just these two,” Alexander pointed to Azura and Azira, “And what’s their story?”
Ptolomy felt a headache coming as he struggled to come up with a way to explain Azura and Azira’s backstory and why they were allowed to eat lunch at the same table as them and not locked up.
“Azura and Azira are priestesses and apolitical.” Seelima gave an on-the-surface reasonable answer.
But Alexander only sniggered, “The king is the head of the temple. The king is also the head of politics. How can a princess priestess be apolitical?”
Ptolomy knew someone as sharp as Alexander could never be duped by such shallow lies and decided to come clean about Azura and Azira, knowing he will likely soon come across it anyway, “Queen mother and Lady Inayah wanted to kill the king because he was unpredictable and could kill them at his whimsy.”
“But you will remember the poison used by Lady Inayah being made by Pasha Farzah. One of the reasons he wanted to kill the king was because the previous king had killed his daughter, Amenheraft’s previous wife, and ….their mother!” Ptolomy sent a sad look at the downcast twins.
“They were just eight!” Seelima said, choking a bit.
‘*Whistle*looks the king was really mad before the positioning!’ Alexander whistled in his heart.
“Amenheraft did not have any desire to avenge his wife. And so Pasha Farzah turned to husband,” Nanazin gave the motivation behind the shadowy man’s obsession.
“You royal families sure are messy,” Alexander lampooned loudly on the complicated, hodgepodge of a relationship.