Herald of Steel

Following her sister’s death, the young Seelima had no idea how to go on with her life. She was like a ship that had lost its rudder, sails and compass all at once… leaving her solely in the mercy of the winds.

Initially, she thought of joining the city’s gangs, but just the looks those men guarding the way to their hideout gave very quickly scared her away.

Seelima was too young to understand what those looks actually meant, but after surviving in that city for those years, she had developed a beast like wild instinct. She could tell something was wrong just from her gut feeling.

This was also her elder sister never went to seek shelter with these groups, preferring to strike it solo despite the increased hardship.

Hence for a time, all Seelima could see was darkness in front of her, wondering the streets aimlessly during the day, sometimes being so distracted that she did not even notice the coins being thrown at her, and only dragging her exhausted body at night, to collapse on the tattered sack cloth.

Only then she would afford her the slightest peace of mind, as her spirit would be too tired to think and rebuke herself.

In addition, the only silver lining of her sister’s death was now the poor girl could afford to have a blanket over her body by using the spare ‘sack’, thus helping her fight the great chill of the night.

In the deserts, it tended to get as cold in the nights as it got hot in the morning. Before, the two sisters would sleep hugging each other, sharing each other’s warmth, but now…

The Queen Mother would cry herself to sleep every day, missing that heat and familiar smell.

Until one fateful night… she was suddenly woken up as she felt a thick sack being put over her head and then, even before she could struggle or cry out, felt herself being lifted up by several strong limbs and was hastily carried out of the city even before she could understand what was actually going on.

Or perhaps she understood it perfectly well, but her immature mind refused to accept the dreadful possibility.

She had heard all kinds of nasty things about ‘those’ men… how they beat, starved and scolded her kind, hence soon, fearful tears began to burst out of her small, beautiful eyes.

She cursed her luck as well as wondered how she got caught so quickly, when this had never happened with her elder sister around.

Of course, this was because Seelima failed to take any of the precautions of the elder sister, such as moving every few days.

Hence it did not take long for the resident slave traders to take notice- their greedy eyes eagerly scanning a lone, young, beautiful girl, who repeatedly came back to the same place to sleep.

It clearly showed she had no guardian and once that was confirmed… that was really it- game, set and match.

Now to be fair to the Queen Mother, even if she had the intelligence to change her bed, she would not have known where to go anyway.

Picking a new spot required maturity and experienced know how, both slightly missing in the girl.

After being taken by the slavers, a few of the men initially wanted to have their way with her. But this was stopped by their chief, who had been in the business for a very, very long time and knew how to spot gems.

Hence once it was confirmed Seelima was indeed a virgin, her beauty led her to be sold to a series of slavers, each exchange increasing her value, until she finally ended up in Adhan, at the royal court.

There, once she clawed her way up to the top and managed to gain Alozmer’s favor, she was afforded her current name- which meant a certain type of rose famous for its fiery red color, which alluded to her crimson red hair.

….

The Queen Mother would, till this day frequently look back at her circumstances with a flurry of mixed emotions.

Who could have imagined even in their wildest of dreams that the queen of the most powerful empire on this side of the globe would begin her life as an orphan and a beggar? That she would get to enjoy luxuries even most noblemen could not afford, forget the regular people.

Even the bread she had fought her sister over… now that she thought about it, it was probably so low quality not even her maids how eat it, forget the queen herself. She would probably execute the entire kitchen if she was served that.

It had been made of coarse grain, improperly milled and probably mixed with some sawdust… in the far more prosperous Adhania, and in the one of its most prosperous cities- Adhan- these kind of bread were only given to beggars and the downtrodden.

Even slightly well to do peasants hardly touched them, perhaps only eating them once or twice a week when things got tough.

While all nobles dined exclusively on white bread of all types, made from a variety of wheat and variant levels of fine milling.

And this was not to mention all the various meats, eggs of different birds, fish, butter, cream, and wine… there were so many things that were initially new to Seelima that once she could not even dream they existed.

Yet now, they were all at her fingertips, free for her to dine as she pleased.

When Queen Mother thought about it like this, sometimes she would ponder… ponder about all the possible what ifs that had happened in her life…she wondered what if she had not picked that fight, what if her sister was alive today, what if she was there to share the table with her… what would she say?

Many times, the Queen Mother would even imagine her elder sister joining them for a meal, sitting next to her.

At that time, although Seelima would appeared all grown up, dressed in luxurious gowns and expensive jewellery worth more than some cities, her elder sister was still stuck in that same young age, small and malnourished, barefooted and wearing those same street urchin rags, her long, crimson hair unkempt and scruffy, her hands, face and feet dusty and full of tiny scars.

The Queen Mother was too young to notice it back then, but now she understood the way her elder sister had protected her, bearing all the burden and the accompanying scars solely on her,

And this made her feel responsible for the accident even more. To the point, Seelima sometimes felt if she could, she could have given her half of Adhania just to say how sorry she was.

Her elder sister was the only one except for her daughter, Hellma, that Seelima ever shed tears for, regularly crying during her death anniversary.

She would even always fast that day… because her stomach would not let her have the pleasure of sustenance due to her guilt.

That was also why she rarely ever talked about her past, and even if she did, she never tried to justify her actions, frankly admitting to the manslaughter.

Only Lady Inayah and her daughter were the two exceptions, privy to the actual details.

Which was also why the black lady did not take much heed to this retort in support of Mirzah seriously, sharply replying to the Queen Mother,

“You were a child…and you never did it intentionally!”

“I killed my sister for food! And Mirzah killed his brother for power. What is the difference?”

However, it seemed Seelima was dead set on blaming herself for all that she had done, thus chimed up like so, venting her emotions, and then declaring with a casual shrug of her shoulders,

“People have been killing each other for anything and everything since the day the sun started to rise from the east. I fail to see the difference.”

“You were a child. And he is an adult. You did it accidentally in the spur of the moment, and he planned for it for months. He tortures innocent maids just because they are not from Matrak… you do not.”

However, Lady Inayah in this way listed all the differences between the two in a cool, testy voice, hoping to open her friend’s eyes.

To her this was not even comparing apples to oranges here, at least both of them were fruits. This was like comparing black and white, complete opposites.

Yet the eyes chose to remain closed, Seelima only coldly musing, “And if he stops supporting us… soon we will end up joining those maids. Amenheraft will not be so gentle this time. How can I as the matron of the royal family support this?”

“…..” This was indeed the biggest bump in the road for Lady Inayah towards revenge, as already discussed many times before.

Yet that did mean the lady was also happy to simply accept and move on.

Her forehead crumpled into wrinkles showing her great displeasure, and her eyes blazed with anger and indignation. She fiercely blamed the Queen Mother for not supporting her on this, almost feeling betrayed as friends.

And perhaps it was seeing this that Seelima’s heart softened a bit.

Thus letting out another large sigh to calm herself, she turned down the harshness in her tone and spoke in a much more soft, understanding tone,

“Look Inayah, I know you want revenge for your son. But I am sorry, I see no way it can happen in his life! Pray for it in the next one!”