51st Day | 527th Year of Hogumpen | Lillova Kingdom, Outskirts | Present Day

Amani:

“Hey, Paddy, you sure about this, man? Maybe we get the next one, buddy.”

Slap

“I ain't your buddy, you wimp. If you want out, get your own ass out, I'm gonna do what I came here to do.”

“B-but she saved our lives, man.”

“F*ck that, I coulda handled it myself. This pompous b*tch just wanted to show off in front of the group. Besides, she was just doing what she was paid to do.”

Geez, talk a little louder why don't you? Maybe the whole camp needs to hear your stupid ass plan. My hand itches to pummel these two idiots to the ground, but I must wait. ‘Patience bears fruit’ as Uncle Malova always says.  

I keep my eyes shut and stay still, waiting for them to make the first move. I feel my muscles wind up in bated anticipation, preparing to spring at the slightest touch. 

Grab

*Thwack*

“Ack!” My arching fist lands square on his temple, bashing his brain against his skull. He stumbles, curses, and then falls flat on his back. Wincing a little, I get up, shaking my hand trying to get rid of the spreading numbness. I may have punched the crook harder than I thought. My eyes trail to the side where I see the wimp staring at me, his eyes wide like a piyathin caught in the firelight.  

“What, want some too, wimp?” I stomp. He squeals, spins on his heels, and starts to flee. I call out, “Hey, idiot, take your dumbass boss with you.” and the wimp actually scurries on over to do just that. But in light of his good sense to not attack me, I let him go. 

But something still eggs me on. The sight of him dragging away his partner's dumb unconscious ass reminds me of memories I'd rather not remember, and infuriated at the forced remembrance, I yell at their retreating backs. “Yeah, you better run from me, you damn lowlifes. You thought you were all that huh? I gotta beat down asses like you who think they can rise above their rank. Run away you wimps, run away while I still let you!” 

I quiet down once they exit my range of vision. It's no use yelling at the dark. But, with the fall of my voice an eerie silence surrounds me, the background noise completely gone. Feeling a little weirded out by the quiet, I look around me. Faces are looking right at me. Faces displaying ranging levels of emotions, from annoyed offense to neutral passivity to amused confusion. 

“What, never seen a lady whack sense into two dumbasses before?” a high pitched voice pierces through the veil of silence.  

“Go back to sleep, tired people.” a low rumbling voice instructs, followed by two concise claps. With that, the crowd slowly descends back into the ground, well most of them. Some from the crowd look around for a bit, trying to locate the source, but upon discovery they too follow suit.  

“I warned you princess, we shouldn't have left your side in the first place.” The bare tone voice rumbles. 

Ah, the dreaded, ‘I told you so’ adage, I think to myself. But I won't give them the chance to berate me, I'll scold them before they scold me. 

“Hush, Uncle Malova!” I say, and he fastens his pace, a small grin spreading across his face. I whisper to him when he's close enough, “I'm no more a Princess, as you are a Princess's guard.”

“Sorry, P-” he silently dry coughs into his hand, “Miss Amani.” I shake my hand dismissively and chuckle at Uncle's rarely displayed antics. 

My chuckling, shaking head, however, swivels my face to the right, and I make eye contact with Aunt Cassandra. Oh my, she has that look on her face, the ‘Aunt Cassandra about to either scold you or correct you’ face. 

Well, they aren't my real aunt or uncle, and I believe getting seen calling them Uncle and Aunt in court would be frowned upon, but when I'm out of court it's no issue. Plus, they've been with me since, umm, as long as I can remember honestly, and most–if not all–of their concerns about me have proved to be accurate. So I take their concerns straight to heart, and try to follow their advice with minimal qualms.  

After all, there are only a handful of people whose words I take with utmost sincerity, and these two fall just shy of the first person of that triad of names. Master Duke Fernandes covets the first spot. I guess the common factor these three share is that they're all my mentors, the only people who were able to teach me something, who were patient enough as to break through my bull headed stubbornness—a trait I inherited from my father, King Regele Mansomi the V. 

Aunt Cassandra holds my gaze as she steps inside of my red hued temperate bubble, and sits across from me. I see her brows knit, and then loosen. She finally speaks, “What they were attempting was not right, and if left to me, I would hang them from the largest Malo tree we can find,” her quiet shrill voice then softens into a melody, “but what you did, Miss, was also not right. You shouldn't think of other people as lesser, no matter the station or post they belong to.” 

Confusion cascades into me, “But Master Fernandes said-”

“The Duke. He has a very . . . regressive way of thinking of others, especially those below his station,” I stay perplexed, and I presume she reads my lingering confusion, “tell me, Miss, the fact that I and Malova are ‘lowborns’, does that make you think less of us? Do you want to beat us down too?”

“What, NO!” I screech, my voice a little too loud. Several around the camp raise their heads at me, grunt in annoyance, and lay back down. I lower my voice, “You two are not the same. Those two tried to-”

“Rob you while you slept? Yes, that is wrong in every sense of the word, but please also take into consideration that they're the survivors from the Polwa Village massacre,” her gaze finally softens, “please broaden your horizons, Miss Amani. Just try to see the reasoning behind people's actions, and you'll be surprised to find that sometimes the most heinous of actions hide the most noblest, or the most desperate of intentions.” 

I watch as she bows her exit, and once outside the temperate bubble, she excuses herself for overstepping her boundaries. I tell her that she's still my teacher, and that there is no boundary when it comes to her. A smile breaks her somber face into a wide grin, and I reciprocate her smile.

“Now, I would have advised Miss Amani to return to sleep, but seeing as how the day is breaking in a few hours I think it best if we start our morning routine afresh?” Suggests Uncle Malova, as he silently steps forth and rests his right arm across his wife–Aunt Cassandra's–shoulder, and rubs it soothingly. Aunt Cassandra directs her smile towards him as she starts heading into the surrounding forest, pulling him along by his arm. I see their trailing backs, his arms snaking her, their heads touching, love in its purest form. I'd like that someday, if it exists for me in this lifetime.