HEROES RETURN.

Bellowing drums announced arrival at the gates of the royal palace—the unmistakable sound of hooves clattering against the stone pavement resounding clear and loud in spite of the crowd that clapped and cheered for the return of the finest warrior in the entirety of the realm—sultan's firstborn, the prince of Dohtah.

An entourage of knights all wielding victorious flags with the sigil of their kingdom marched in, the figure of Qadir al Zaidi standing out among the rest with ease; Tthe silver armour fit on his muscular frame like a second skin, an indigo cape billowing behind him—chiselled features staring straight ahead, dignified and glorious.

"Ra's barak al'amir!" (Ra's bless the prince) the crowd chanted, causing Qadir to bow his head humbly, as he approached the sultan and sultana who awaited his arrival at the palace gates.

"Sun shines well upon you," the sultan said, welcoming his son into an embrace which Qadir returned with a small smile. The sultana stood on the other side, her face impassive as she stepped forward to finish the reception rituals. "Shams zaiem wahid," (sun guides all men); Qadir kneeled in front of the sultana, taking her hand to place a kiss atop her knuckles before touching them to his eyes.

The sultana did not reply and instead swept the peacock feathers over his shoulders four times, taking the hanging incense burner from her maid, guiding the holy fumes on Qadir's person.

"Alqamr maehum." (Moon embraces them) Her greeting is curt as aged hands reach forward to pull him back on his feet. "To this victory and many more to come," on cue, Qadir raises his sword. The sultana brushes the feathers over the blades as well, adding, "May the phiisms keep your pennant bold and proud."

The entourage then turned to greet the common folk, and once the formalities were done, the royal family would head in for the court along with the ministers of diwan.

As Qadir followed behind the sultan and the sultana, a light presence snuck itself beside him—green eyes twinkling with mischief, turning to look up at the older.

"Spirits bless the older brother, forgive my lateness. I couldn't receive you at the gate," Ghazi said in a voice that almost sounded sincere. But Qadir having dealt with his younger brother for almost his entire life knew better than to believe his farce. Ghazi was an excellent actor—but only to those who weren't aware just what that lopsided smirk of his meant.

"Apology accepted, since there surely must have been something extremely important, that could keep you occupied." Qadir's retort caused Ghazi to chuckle as the two princes took their seats beneath the sultan and sultana's, across from the amirs.

"Elder knows me too well, it seems. I was busy, yes." Interest obvious in the manner he spoke, the second prince leaned to whisper in his brother's ear. "Occupied collecting news about you, that is. There was a lot of talk about you while you were gone, father is even about to make an announcement to affirm the rumours, in fact."

At that, Qadir raised a brow at the younger. Ghazi shrugged, "I wouldn't spoil the surprise for you. But let's hope—for your own sake—that the elder brother hasn't fallen in love with some maiden he found on the desolate jaf while he was off—you know, like in those stories that little girls read. Where an injured knight is met with a beautiful woman, who stretches her arms forward and pulls the knight out of the death's embrace!" he sniggered, "Because if yes, you might leave the court with tears in your eyes."

His words caused Qadir to frown, a blurred image of a woman standing amidst a sand blizzard, unshaken, flashing before his eyes only momentarily—as if on cue at the mention. There was a hint of irritation on his face at the speculation—or one would say, implication—that ghazi made, (and how he wasn't entirely wrong. Once again.)

He shook his head, brushing off the unnecessary thoughts as the sultan summoned the attention of diwan. "Here it comes." Ghazi quipped in, silenced by the booming voice of the Sultan.

"By subduing the bandits who'd terrorized the east of jaf for ages now, successfully after months of struggle—Prince Qadir had once again made the realm proud. And on this auspicious occasion, I wish to announce," there was a pin drop silence in the diwan-e-khas, all anticipating what was already known.

"The acceptance of the proposal by the Emperor of Tajing that was forwarded to us by Shah of Astocia, an alliance with Tajing by the marriage of the fifth daughter of Tajing's emperor's, Yazawa of house Umahashi, fifth child, Sora for the first prince Qadir."

"Ma Sha Ra's!" (What Ra's has willed) the diwan cheered predictably, some joyed at the news—others pretending to be for the sake of courtesy. However, the sultana made no such efforts, rising from her seat with a sour face, as she excused herself from the diwan-e-khas.

"What an honour, my sultan. This shows how much trust our shah puts on the realm of Dohtah—it surely is because of our first prince's achievements that he'd deemed us worthy of taking on such responsibility." Sweet words, flattery flocked the sultan's words like bees to honey. But the sultan turned to his elder son,

"I'm hoping there won't be any objections from your side, Qadir?" his words were greeted with a hesitant silence—one that did not go amiss by Ghazi—before Qadir finally sighed, nodding. "What the sultan wills is my decision."

"Of course, father—" Ghazi clipped in, amusement dancing in his tone per usual, however, his eyes were set on Qadir. "Spirits be blessed, the first prince would never take a breath that wasn't commanded by your will or the realm's better." And while the flattery evoked pleased responses by the crowd, the sultan's gaze remained set as stone—reading well the sarcasm that was hidden behind the false goodwill.

"A celebration banquet will be held in the tana'q palace the next month when the Emperor of Tajing arrives with the princess and their envoys, I'm expecting we will set a date for the engagement then. Diwan-e-khas has been dismissed."