(Part 1)

By the time 'Zally' took to the main road again, the rain had considerably subsided; the afternoon rays shining through the pale clouds.

"'Friends', huh... Heck, that one's just a pauper for all I care..."

Yet the thought took some time to leave her mind, partly because no one she came across had as yet been so bold to propose such a notion; a slim and (to her) unexpected chance to be seen, not as someone being on the top rungs, but as something else...

What would Lady Mirani think of it?

From her own experience at court, this princess had so very often seen how her lady mother had surrounded herself with like-minded courtiers espousing the notion of so-called 'Izurian resurgence', alluding to her own lineage prior to it having been toppled by Urdin's forces, some nineteen years prior.

This 'usurpation', as Lady Mirani may have seen it, had helped fuel her dislike (which seems to harden by the day) towards the Amir's first spouse--Lady Vestra Darys--who also had the added misfortune of hailing from a different culture from across the Sarsan Strait.

To that end, Mirani had resolved to start rallying more sympathetic ears--and in this she was mildly successful.

When one day a younger and more inquisitive Azalea had begged to learn of the recipe to such success, the mother had replied, somewhat sagely, "Pick your friends carefully, and your enemies tenfold more so."

Nodding to such counsel, this princess had since then tried to put it to practice... but were she forced to admit (and none dared to), even at present, Azalea would say that she had not had much luck in this regard. Far from any courtier of note, with the rare exception of a certain Razin Belvassir, Zalea's most notable acquaintances were Ronan, an aspiring stable-hand of sixteen name days; and Narvis, Elbar's master-of-arms and the princess's current instructor at swordplay--none of whom very well-placed for too grand an undertaking.

Just now, another common pauper calling herself 'Zena' had so brazenly asked for Zalea's friendship, only moments after hearing out her confession of wearing a stolen doublet! Would the princess's misfortune for the day not end already?

When Zalea realized it, she had reached Elbar Palace's flower-dotted courtyard; part of Lady Vestra's--or, as Zalea would have it, 'Vessy'--work, no doubt.

Going past the main entrance, and having stuck out her tongue at the pair of stoic-faced guards stationed therein, Azalea perceived the red-carpeted pathways and so took her time to clean the muck-stained boots on a corner before actually stepping on the carpet; she knew it would bode very ill were she seen to soil the path for other nobles. She was halfway in cleaning the sole of the left boot with her fingernails, when--

"There you are, Zalea!"

The princess flinched; not only because yet another had dared to call her by nickname on the same day, but because she recognized--and dreaded--this voice's owner: her lady mother, Mirani Ernavia, who was pulling off her signature hands-crossed gesture when the princess saw her.

Worse, she was not alone. Azalea's only brother Prince Dastra, presently teary-eyed, was clinging to the lower midsection of their mother's dress like glue.

"Sorry Mom... so, so sorry, for earlier..." Dastra managed between sobs. "Been waiting for you to help with sums anyway, B-big Sis..."

Zalea dropped the boot and slapped her own forehead with the soot-smeared hand. "Gimme a freakin' break..."

"Where have you been, girl?" Lady Mirani demanded, apparently ignoring her still-sobbing son. "No sort of out-for-a-dress trip would have taken this long!"

The princess replied in kind. "Might've been particularly interested in some--that occurred to you, my lady?"

"Brought nothing to show for it."

"What, and let you get away with some flowery garb that'd eat up most of my allowances anyway?" Zalea blurted. "Forget it. 'Sides--and this should've been more visible--it rained for a good hour. Guess where your lovely dove had had to take shelter."

"More vulture than dove, for my taste."

"Please?"

Mirani rolled her eyes. "Under some peasant's thatched roof--nice warm tea, sweetened--charming obeisances?"

"Not even close!" The princess gritted her teeth, leaning forward with a stomp while putting both hands on her hips. "'Twas some empty freakin' barnyard; no tea, not even a cold one--even less obeisance. And I... I met... ah, dang it... Sorry, Mom--ill timing."

"Oh, don't you 'ill timing' me, wretch! Thanks to you, Dastra came running to me right in the midst of a private audience and pestered me like crazy about sums! Would not have it any other way, for crying out loud..."

Azalea exhaled, exasperated.

"Urgh, seriously... You could've freaking handled it just as well, Mom, and not blab about this to someone just moments out of the rain! Here ya go--got the smear to freakin' show for it! Go on, observe!"

"Mom... Big Sis..." Prince Dastra whimpered, looking sideways from behind his mother's back--tears and snot mingling unheeded--jerking the spiritedly-bickering royal jerks to the dawning realization that he was even there. "Please, stop this already... Just wanna know if any of you would help me get things done... really... like, now..."

Zalea shot her mother a reproachful, narrowed-eyes look that said, nearly, 'Look what you've done', to which Mirani only raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," the princess growled. "To think I've been hoping to live up to your expectations for a moment, putting yet another Husnirite resource to wreck..."

Mirani laid a restraining hand on her daughter's left shoulder as the latter passed by her, the whisper oddly curious and somewhat devoid of malice. "Did you now?"

The princess tilted her own head quickly from side to side. "No real proof, sadly, but I had fun. Only attendant there, Mina, would know to shut up... or not; no longer my problem either way."

"I'll see to that." Mama Viper smiled subtly. "What was the shop's name again?"

"Can't remember; the one right at the intersection of Topaz Street on its turn to Emerald Street."

"How many... resources were lost?"

"Lost count beyond seven." Azalea smirked back. "So exhilarating, such a business, you see."

"Without a doubt," Mirani mused. "Get yourselves out of my sight, would ya."

"Dastra," his sister called in a back-to-normal tone, "with me. Get that snot-pocked face of yours washed while I change."

"R-right behind you, Big Sis... but... you'd still help me later, yes? Ah..!"

Without bothering to reply, and having recovered her fallen boot, 'The Princess' grabbed her brother by the left hand, half-dragging him... before halting again halfway through the next turn upon perceiving a lone figure ahead of her.

"Crap. Forgot all 'bout this..."

Oddly, this time around, even Dastra did not flinch.

"What have we here," this figure, another royal member at that, observed with a hearty smirk while keeping her arms crossed "Wolves hastening to scamper back to their den without even bothering to acknowledge the lions' presence. Such hospitality."

"Lei," Zalea growled. "Out of my way already, darn you."

Princess Leia Husniria, eldest of the current Amir's daughters, ignored this. "First off--glad to have you back, sweet sister. Where have you been?"

"Like that's any of your concern."

Leia raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps not, but that's my doublet and boots you're wearing; the former bereft of its sleeves, I see. If this happens again-"

"You'll do what?" Zalea grinned back. "I like it this way, in truth, eases movement ever so much. You're lucky I wasn't of the mind to shorten the trousers too. What, you gonna rat me out?"

Lei smiled back. "Even rats would still leave squeaks, Sister, in trying to snatch the cheese. You ransacked my wardrobe, ruined my doublet, soiled my boots, and still have the nerve to defy me before your own sweet brother. What does that make of you, I wonder?"

That gave Zalea pause. Even the wiliest wolf would pause to take stock when its opponent had greater resilience, and arrange its moves accordingly. "Quit being an airhead. You could afford more like this."

"No apology," Leia nodded as if ticking off a mental list. "That doublet was Akhi Mustafa's gift, for your notice." She was using honorifics now, meaning 'Brother' in that particular case. "Best not try the helpless damsel bit when he shall learn of this ruckus."

Zalea merely laughed, again putting her favorite hands-on-hips gesture that had worked so well with so many.

"Me, helpless? Really? You're the one practically using Akhi's clout like a meat shield, Lei, far as I'm concerned--and besides, he's not freaking here. If you loved this garb so much, the next one should be kept well beyond my graceful reach, wouldn't you say?"

The other princess narrowed her eyes. Impertinent pup, she thought, yet one with a silver tongue as well. Should be on the lookout.

"I want that doublet returned," Leia pointed out.

Zalea took another step forth. "Ask me nicely."

Young Prince Dastra looked at one princess, then the other. "Big Sis Zalea, give it back already! Garb's not even yours!"

"Well I can't very well give it back now--in your young presence--now can I?!"

The prince fidgeted even as he flushed. "I mean..."

"Move along, Das," Leia suggested, more kindly. "You need not see this."

"But... I was waiting on Big Sis Zalea for help with sums."

"Sort that out later; won't be long, I promise. Move along."

"Well, then... good luck, Big Sis Lei!"

"I'll need that, thanks."

"You too, Big Sis Zalea--better not forget your promise again..."

"Bug off already!"

Once more in tears, this boy prince skidded off, rounded a corner, and was soon forgotten by the currently-belligerent princesses.

Zalea pouted. "That runt. Whose side exactly is he on?"

Her counterpart shrugged. "Won't be interrupting anytime soon, in any case. Where were we?"

"Smart move," Zalea conceded, snickering at her so-called sibling, "stripping away the middleman like such. The doublet was a present, you said. Can you not just make it a present to me in return, Leia? Please?"

"Make a present of a stolen thing? You'd nab more."

"I won't. This is all I want."

"For now."

"No! Promise. I had no idea this was from Akhi."

Leia huffed. "And my ransacked wardrobe? My soiled boots?"

"The boots I cleaned before walking in--here, see." Zalea lifted a foot for emphasis, revealing the sole; ordinarily not the most proper gesture before anyone on that part of the land.

"No mud on the carpet either," she resumed. "The wardrobe, now... you're done rearranging it yourself by this time, I suppose; little help there. I was just about to ask how to make my own doublet. Thus I'd need a model, and this one should do. How about it?"

"No," Leia said flatly.

Refusal was not a dish Zalea tasted often. "But... why not?"

"It's my doublet, I don't have to give it away if I don't want to."

"But I'm the one wearing it!" Zalea stuck out her tongue. "If you desire it that much, try claiming it again!"

So saying, this princess started to dash off... only to run right against another figure coming from where her brother Dastra had scampered to.

"Ow-ow..."

"Oh my, how very careless of me," the newcomer, Prince Rashid--his face oval, his countenance happy, his hair the color of fine sand, the skin fair, the eyes grey and inquisitive, and a bare year older than Dastra besides--smiled as the loudmouth princess readjusted her sight off the carpeted floor. "Need a hand?"

Zalea flushed, slapping his hand away. "Back off, wimp."

"You're very welcome."

"This is not over, Lei!" the young she-wolf, having regained her footing and too furiously-abashed for grace, shot back.

Leia waved back with a sly smile. "On second thought, sister, you may keep wearing that doublet 'til sundown today, just before the evening prayers. Past that, it better be hanging in the darn easiest spot in your wardrobe for me to reach and pick from, or I'll wreck that entire wardrobe to the rims for my next sport. Now go; fulfill whatever promise you've made to Das."

"He's my freaking younger bro; I'll decide on that, you hear?!"

That said, and without pausing to reflect whether Dastra might not have heard that, Azalea made her furious way to her chambers to get changed.

***

"Could've taken on that she-wolf pup alone," Leia grumbled to her youngest true sibling as they walked on. "Why do you always fancy to butt in?"

"You're welcome, Big Sis," Rashid grinned back. "You must have better things to attend to than pampering some showy lass, it occurred to me."

"That's some way to put it," this princess conceded, giggling. "I was dead serious, though--about wrecking that one's wardrobe. About time Zalea's had her reckoning."

"Come now, that's not ours to decide... I like to think you're the better-trained at serenity, 'sides."

"'Serene' does not even begin to describe that one, dear brother. One has to tone down to another's level at times, don't deny it."

Rashid shrugged. "Different moms, can't help it. Ours would never let you get away with plunder, that much I realize."

His sister paused. "What would you have me do, dance to her tune?! That brat's gonna burn the entire palace down if she's got any say!"

"In which case," the prince observed, "not even Akhi Mustafa would remain quiet, and we will be there for him, insha Allah. Regard her as just another troublesome guest, if you will."

Leia snorted. "Guests can be asked to leave, and she'd never. Gracious! How the heck did Father come off with the bright notion to take up two moms, anyway?"

For once, Prince Rashid had nothing clever to reply with.

"Let's not bother about things we can't expect to change soon, Big Sis," he assured instead, resting a hand gently on her shoulder. "By having the same father as ours, and despite her snarkiness, Azalea is our sister; I believe she would see the errors of her ways in time... but for now, let's focus on what we can deal with."

"Yeah, such as?"

Her youngest brother smiled. "Been working on a short bow myself, you know, while you were so occupied with weaving and knitting your shawls. I hope to be able to show it to you, one of these days."

(Part 2)

"Strength in numbers; most basic tactics of wolves under any climate," Zalea murmured while nursing her wounded pride inside her bedchamber even as she undid the last of the doublet's buttons and let it slide, putting in turn her customary black dress with the purple ribbon on the chest--her favorite color, somehow. "Darn it, how could I have forgotten..."

Taking another long look at the frustrated figure with now-disheveled hair in the full-body mirror, this princess sighed and took steps to somewhat tidy it.

"I mean, that doublet thing fits me fine and I darn like it too, but... seems Lei just wouldn't listen to reason. Return it by sundown, she said! Quite the nerve she got, and it's only a few hours away. Oh, what should I do..."

For all her shameless display of bravado to those she considered 'lessers', this princess had reason to be so unsettled. Her handiwork had never gone beyond adequate, and oh, how she liked the way this doublet had been made: the fine leather material, silk linings, and especially the soft padding that helped keep the shoulders warm. Only the sleeves had been a nuisance.

"Hey, perhaps here too Mom would back me. Been doin' it all on her urgin', after all..."

Such a thought brought Zalea some relief. Lady Mirani had, come what may, consented to help clear up the mess with the garb shop; why not aim bigger and see if Lei might not be 'persuaded' to transfer ownership of just a single one of her measly garments, all said and done?

The bliss of it was, Azalea had two 'wives of the father' to pick from to do the persuading. There was Lady Vestra Darys, only daughter to a now-dead Estrean mayoress. Considerably adept at matters of trade and welfare, and of gentle disposition, she had the honor of longer companionship with the current Amir.

Her only insurmountable flaw (at least to Azalea herself) was giving birth to Mustafa, Leia and Rashid, whom this princess had privately dubbed as the 'Outsider Trio' or, in cases of finer mood--which were quite rare--'Vessy's lot'.

Lady Mirani Ernavia, meanwhile, could boast of having been one of the daughters of the last Izurian king, Tharion the Tenth. Though her manner of encounter with the then-General Urdin had perhaps not been the most satisfactory, this lady had been--indeed, still was--filled with a flaming desire to prove herself to be 'up to the task' on the days ahead; a trait that General Urdin had apparently found quite invigorating.

The births of Azalea and Dastra, three years apart, had been among Mirani's most fateful breaks, and the passage of years had not dimmed her passion for them.

***

Azalea's steps felt light as she went for the door to seek out her true mom. Lady Mirani, she knew, was of one mind with herself with regards to the conviction that the Izurian legacy should be revived... and not just in art, music and buildings. A true Izurian should be at the head of it all.

That garment shop this princess had entered earlier, had been built with Husnirite permission; unfit in any way for an Izurian princess. All in it, and in others like it, were thus highly expendable, and rightly so.

Considered in that light, this doublet also belonged to a Husnirite; but what the heck, Azalea liked it. A princess got what she wanted by whatever possible means at her disposal, surely?

Unfortunately for Zalea, reason had not worked in ways she would have expected that day. She got the right to retain the prize, sure, but in due time that would no longer be the case. And there was Leia's warning to consider: a wrecked wardrobe would mean more loss than just one measly doublet.

But she liked it! Darn, why would that little lioness just not fall for her charm? So many others had... Was it because Leia had two brothers to Zalea's one, and a crybaby at that?

Either way, with thoughts of Leia's warning hanging heavy on her mind--few outside her own mother had really threatened her before--and in grudging accordance with it, Zalea decided to hang the now-sleeveless doublet on the easiest part to reach in her wardrobe, in case notice was provided. Just in case.

"Big Sis, anything out of place?"

Dastra's voice outside her chamber (the princeling having dressed in his customary gray outfit and trousers) once again brought Azalea back to reality.

"Eh, uh, nothing you should know, really... Oh, right, help with sums. Been out here long, Das?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Lead on then."

The boy prince obliged, notebook in hand, proceeding on to his tutorial chamber with the sister not far behind.

"Might I ask, Big Sis... what took you so long to get back today?"

Zalea sighed. "The rain, wet and hard. Throw in a lass urchin for its own sake, as well. Zena's the name."

Dastra's eyes widened. "A female pauper--do I catch that right?"

"Well, they can and do come in both sexes, now don't they, Li'l Bro?"

"Male paupers I understand; they're breadwinners, sort of. But female ones... the heck's their family doing?"

The princess shrugged. "Not our problem."

"For crying out loud, Big Sis..."

"Don't give me that look. We're on one side of the line, they the other. We take taxes, they provide them one way or the other; we make war, they get to die as martyrs, heck if I care; we eat, they're free as heck to starve. That's how things have worked out since time immemorial, Mom would agree."

"Akhi Mustafa might not."

"He's not here. She is."

"Mom could be wrong, you know..."

"Is she? How else could she have lasted this long, then, while providing for us both and all who cared for her?"

"Was that why you helped her ruin close to seven dresses?"

Zalea paused. "You eavesdropped."

"Sis, that's not decent! Seven wasted potential customers, perhaps more..."

"That's my business--better focus on yours, dear Das," the sister suggested, a tad more kindly. "With skill at sums, you'd be able to count more precisely how much tax those backstreet urchins' families gotta pay at the very least, and if they should deserve a generous cut. That's decent, alright."

The siblings walked on in silence for a few more minutes.

"Runt."

"Yes?"

"Whatever happened while I was away?"

"Wha... Big Sis, why this question now?"

The sister shrugged. "Bit odd to see you appear that shaken, clinging to Mom like that."

"Ah, you noticed--"

"Heck if I didn't, Li'l Bro. Best I know, no matter how freakin' scared you are, you'd try your best not to let it show; part of bein' a prince, whatever. That it showed this time, could only mean it's real. What was it?"

"Well... Mom disciplined me, was all."

The princess stopped and looked at him with narrowed eyes, hands on hips. "I hate lies."

"Uh... she... she only had me locked up in a chamber filled with jugs o' centipedes. 'Course, in our terms that'd count as 'disciplining', yes?"

Due to lack of response, Dastra braved himself to look up--and soon wished he hadn't.

"That freakin' witch," Zalea murmured darkly. "Doing that on purpose, knowing full well ya're scared as heck of 'em... Whatever did you do to incur it anyway?"

"Asked her to help with sums... which was why I waited for ya instead. Really, Sis, it's fine--"

"It's freakin' not, Bro; way I see it, she was seeking faults and excuses--always had been. No need to act tough all the time. C'mere."

This princess lowered herself down to Dastra's height, spread out her arms, and once again let the princeling's tears wet the right shoulder-part of her dress.

"Why..." Dastra managed through fresh sobs, "why the heck can't Mom just understand it already, Big Sis, why?! She's drivin' us so darn hard to dislike, even hate, our own kin through such means, and always behind Dad's back... Day in n' out, don't think I can't stand it, not like this! What would happen when Dad finds out, d'ya think..?"

"What needn't have," the fiery sister concluded grimly while stroking at her youngest brother's chestnut-brown hair to help soothe him, the expression inscrutable. "Pray ya need not even be there when it matters, Li'l Bro, for yer own safety. Now let's get that freakin' sums thing done."

(Part 3)

In the meantime, inside Dastra's tutorial chamber, Lady Mirani was seething in wordless rage while clutching a book on interests and banking--the former's lawfulness being the current theme of excited debate even among the Learners, considered experts of their respective fields.

Here she was, mother of two; she, the last surviving daughter of the last Izurian king. She, whom in the grander picture had been made--for lack of finer terms--a 'second screw' by the same man who had vanquished her lineage.

She would, being a good mother, not so much as mention (nor permit discussion of in her earshot) the unfortunate tale of her previous estrangement to any of her kids. What mattered to her was that they did not experience it: they were both castle-bred, fairly close to the center of affairs.

It should be kept that way.

Mirani's well-concealed bitterness in her match to the erstwhile-dashing Husnirite general, Urdin Husniris, had over time been replaced by the flaming desire to prove to her long-gone Izurian royal parents that an estranged child could achieve great things nonetheless; that she could form her own so-called legacy.

And oh, what would have been greater than toppling over the same man who'd undertaken to put Mirani's long-sought-after legacy to ash!

Sadly, years of campaigning afield had not considerably dimmed Urdin's sharpness of mind, nor of sword. Mirani understood early on that she would need to start small, but then bloom elegantly and swiftly. Let the peninsula be under the feet of Urdin's first line for too long, and the commoners might well forget to whom their land had truly belonged.

She had named her firstborn 'Azalea' with this in mind.

"Hold on... Mom? The heck are you even doing in here?"

At present, seeing the princess who bore that name blinking alongside the sentimental Dastra, Mirani permitted herself a slight smile. Dastra was her best shot for the throne, but Zalea had the better sense by a mile--lack of civility notwithstanding.

My children, she mused, smiling outwardly. Finally, something I could call 'mine'...

"Mom! Hey, I'm talking to--!"

"Clam up and just get to your seats already, Zalea! Doesn't matter if I must tutor one more today... and personally, for that matter. Consider it an honor."

"The freak..?"

The kids nevertheless complied, taking their seats one after another on cushions facing two of the six low round wooden tables in that chamber.

Having spent just over half an hour going through Dastra's actual lessons for that day, going so far as to provide unambiguous steps in solving each item, Mirani then launched into casual family talk. Quickly realizing she could not possibly discuss whatever may have taken place in the garment shop in Dastra's presence without having to brave unwittingly-true remarks from the boy, Mama Viper instead opted to discuss her daughter's time in the barnyard.

"So you've come across an urchin currently displeased with the basiras..." she remarked, "and you think this might interest me. Why?"

Azalea shrugged. "Never said it would, not like she's shown too much promise anyway... But in case you are interested, and boy, would that be something to behold indeed--name's Zena. Good luck trying to nab where she might be living."

Mirani narrowed her eyes. "Not very encouraging."

"Told ya so."

"Zena," Dastra repeated, making a mental note. "You did not... treat her poorly, I hope, Big Sis?

"Both survived, if that's what you're hinting at."

"Always worth looking into, in any case," the mother observed. "The less details of someone from our side are exposed to the adversary, the better."

"Not saying if this Zena would be willing to join our side just yet, though," Zalea rejoined.

Mama Viper smiled. "Oh, give it time, darling. Nothing of value is ever produced in haste."

The princess blinked. "What did you call me, just now?"

"Showing I know how to love?"

"Spare me."

Three knocks on the door were heard just then, and a servant entered following a bow.

"My lady, the Amir requests for the princess's presence."

"Dang it," Zalea muttered under her breath as she rose. Her mother followed suit.

"Already getting late in the day," Mirani reasoned.

"Nevertheless. The Amir also asked that she come alone..."

"Fine! Where to?" Azalea demanded.

"The throne chamber, Princess."

Said princess nodded curtly ere managing a dismissive wave. The servant bowed again and retreated.

"As you've seen," Zalea pointed out to her gaping brother. "Dad wouldn't just inquire 'bout the rain or how Zena might've freakin' looked like. It has to be something serious."

"Maybe he just missed you," the mother offered, "as I had."

The princess rolled her eyes. "I better bring one of these cushions here then, eh? Perhaps even an hourglass, to see how long this upcoming blabber might last?"

"Don't be stupid, Azalea, this is the Amir himself you'll be speaking to!"

"Darn right, Mom; why else do you think Dastra's gone to such lengths to have me for his instructor on sums? Anyway, yeah, you heard the peon--gotta run, good graces. Das, be good."

The prince nodded, smiling. "As always, Sis. Careful on your way."

"Always do, runt."