(Part 1)

Moments after the 'display of skills in arms', Rashid was still complaining.

"Gracious... that last move was practically a heart-stopper, darn her! For a moment I thought we'd lost you for real there, Big Sis Lei..."

His true sister, now back in her daily attire, just snickered. "There now, Ras, calm yourself. That's how a real display should've been; any lesser and it'd be little more than a farce, wouldn't you say? And no, don't even think to dislike Azalea for any part of it."

"And why shouldn't I?! She's nearly made me sister-less, for crying out loud..."

"Yet here I stand, Ras; quite unhurt, Allah Be Praised. Besides, the more you claim to dislike her, the more it proves to her that she's done a darn-good job; think on that. She's got issues, yes... but she is our sister. Heck, you might even try and ask her how she even managed to pull off such breath-stealing moves!"

"True," Rashid conceded, "but you see, Big Sis, I have chosen to put more focus on archery. I don't think--"

"Sidearm," Leia reminded him. "Did you miss that tip from Narvis? Always have secondary weapons that you might rely upon. Even archers would at times find themselves in situations where their bows are rendered of little use--what will you do then?"

"Why, fight up close, of course... but... I-I can't! I haven't really trained with any other weapon than the bow, and even then, I-I..."

"What?" his sister prodded.

"I'm so afraid I'd recall those black-clad figures from that night again!" The prince now broke cold sweat. "Heck, Big Sis, you weren't there. You couldn't possibly understand how they'd appeared to me as they'd immediately gone for Akhi, and neither of us had even thought to carry weapons. So fast, their daggers flashed... Crap, I know I shouldn't be saying this, but the very best move we could think of then was run, and for princes to actually yield ground without the slightest of a fight... That's not what Dad taught us!"

"You survived," Leia reasoned, "and I daresay Akhi hadn't fussed too deeply 'bout your yielding ground, either. It was, as you said, for the best."

"Still... from that night on, I'd resolved to take to study ranged weapons because they'd at least allow me to... contribute... without immediately having to yield ground, for one. Akhi on the other hand, had taken to try and perfect his skills in melee ones; seeing himself as part of the very first line of defense for his dependants."

"Either way," the sister rejoined, holding on to Ras's shoulders to help comfort him, "archer or not, a good soldier would still require sidearm and the skills to use it. If fighting directly is that un-amenable to you--though I do hope you might get past that, for the record--why not seek for ones you might throw? Spears, for example, or axes, or-"

"Knives," the prince offered. "Spears, to use our colorful sister's terms, 'pack a darn-good punch should they connect'... but they are quite unwieldy once the matter of distance is negotiated. Axes, while ferociously lethal, are so impractical to carry around. Knives, now... it is possible to carry more than one set of them at any given time, and are among the least that an enemy would've expected to be attacked by-"

A whistle was heard then. "Learned your lessons, have ya?"

"Azalea! How... how long have you been-"

"Just now." The other princess, still in her hunting garb, stepped into the light. "Keen eyes ya've got, Pipsqueak; and what I said to your pighead of a sis, I'll now repeat to ya, so listen well. Move in where the enemy is weakest, and time it so that he'll least expect it--like with that headbutt and the flurry of fists back then, oh, how Lei had struggled. With arrows you'll learn to be resourceful; so it is with knives. Try different distances and stances, see if you can get the hang of it, eh, now there's a good boy."

The 'boy' pouted. "Is the patronizing even called for?"

"Think you're the first?"

"And where are you going, Sis?" Leia asked, more kindly.

"Get a whiff o' fresh air, for freak's sake. Still gotta apologize to that owner whose garb shop I wrecked the day before, and perhaps a brief drop-by at Aunt Lista's; been quite a darn-while." Zalea waved. "Fall in if ya wish, try spot a nice corner to cry in if not."

Vestra's kids exchanged nonplussed glances.

"Our sister?" Rashid inquired, an eyebrow raised.

"Our sister."

"Um... Zalea?" the prince called out. The other figure, now some distance away, stopped without turning. "My sister thinks she's gonna finish those shawls first. I'll still join you."

Another no-look wave. "Good weavin', Pighead."

***

The royal pair's journey took them out of palace grounds and on to the sprawling, bustling city below it. Princess Azalea, like her namesake plant, breathed in the morning air deeply and with obvious relish.

"First time out, Pipsqueak?"

"Outside palace grounds, you mean? Sorta," Rashid admitted. "It's so vast, it could be a city in and of itself. But yeah, this'll be my first time in recent weeks to go on to the city again."

"Been down there once," Zalea put in with a sigh. "Ain't no fun, thinkin' of it now."

"So where are we going this time?"

The princess shrugged. "Gettin' to know our people, if ya like. Me, I'll first be goin' to that garb shop I wrecked, nab its proprietor, n' pay my respects for a change. Then we might pay our Aunt Lista a visit; been a darn-while since that last. Then... I don't really know. Where d'ya plan to be?"

Rashid put his hands behind the head as he walked. "You don't suppose they have sets of throwing-knives down there, do you?"

"Oh, ya'd be surprised. Down there'd be slums where the unclothed and unwanted've been ekin' a livin' for darn-longer than the lot of blue-bloods like us could hope to recall. Throwin' knives, he said-" here Azalea snickered. "If ya're lucky, ya won't even have to pay to see all sorts of 'em, Pipsqueak; just, so help me, see to it that none gets into your back or up that fine neck when you least expect it. Ain't too late to turn back~"

Rashid gulped as he dropped his relaxed stance and rubbed his own neck. "You'll... help, right?"

"When I can, when I care." Zalea smiled sweetly. "'Sides, a true prince yields no ground without a fight... That not how you been blabbin' to Big Sis, eh?"

"No fair! I didn't even bring my bow--"

"Trust me, not like you'd want to. Several alleys are so narrow you could barely squeeze yourself in."

"And you wouldn't bring me to such places, I take it?"

Zalea paused. "Really, Pipsqueak, why are you gettin' so turned up? You had it sound like I'm the one to blame for your problems, when we'd barely taken the first step. I didn't ask for ya to tag along; by all means, go back to that palace where you're bein' so well-provided and be a pampered crybaby!"

"Crybaby?" Rashid flared up. "What do you know? You weren't there when those agents had gone for Akhi's life, and that of my own for good measure! You're not supposed to be the beacon towards which our people are supposed to turn for guidance when it matters; you're not supposed to-"

"I know we're supposed to wind down out here, darn you," Zalea growled, literally looking down at him. "You've been through funny situations before; I've seen funnier. If you consider this outing to be a freakin'-waste, think o' Dastra. Our youngest bro, bein' a witch's favorite without even the slightest chance at leisure of his own--carp for fattenin', almost. Heck, I might not be a match to Lei in sweet talk, punk, probably never will be--but I know you'll need my help out here, and I will render it. Just don't think I'd turn around every few corners to ask if ya need it; I'll decide! Get me?"

By now Rashid had paled noticeably even as he nodded. "I earnestly hope I shall not have to cross you again."

"Darn right ya shouldn't."

"So then... where should we go first?"

"Garb shop! The sooner that one's settled, the freakin'-better!"

(Part 2)

This time around, the proprietor of the shop in question--Isfir--was in and Zalea was not in the mood to waste words.

Instead, she found herself on the receiving end.

"Mina had related to me what had passed the other day, excellency," the proprietor began, "as well as throwing off the caution that you might grace this establishment again in the near future... for redress."

"For redress," the princess affirmed. "Part of my allowances had been skimmed off for that same purpose, and I gotta wonder if you had been properly reimbursed for the damage thus incurred."

"A letter had been sent to my address entitling me to receive fifteen dresses' worth of payment, yes," came Isfir's smiling reply, "and this I have duly received and stored away. But while I am delighted to be so recompensed, as any trader in his right senses should, do allow me to inquire of your feelings, Princess Azalea: how did you feel about bringing ruin to so many deliverables?"

"And why should whatever might have crossed my mind back then bother you, who weren't there anyhow?" the princess shot back. "Not like you've been too altruistic in your transactions, either."

Isfir blinked. "That's quite the claim, excellency."

"See here," Azalea snarled, "'round this pigsty you call a shop, there are still so darn-many unclothed urchins squallin' in back-alleys. How could you just let that happen, day in and out? Ain't charity a virtue, now?"

"Ah--you seem to be wondering why we aren't distributing these kinds of garments, so that those cheerless folks might in turn sleep a bit happier? I respect that, but do recall that our guild does not cater to such, er... customers, but rather to people of mid-upper rung such as your excellencies. Our going against that now would inevitably ruin the balance."

Zalea flushed.

"Who freakin' cares 'bout the balance! You know darn well those folks deserve better; I see you can provide it, so why the heck not?!"

At this juncture Rashid was pleasantly surprised. Most of the time, he had believed Azalea to be little more than a lout who had gotten almost the whole of her ill graces from her mother; herself the somewhat-unhinged last surviving daughter of a fallen despot. But here, for almost the first time, the Amir's second son began to think that perhaps there might be some hope yet for his 'colorful' sister. Her ways of delivery, now...

The proprietor's response, be that as it may, was no less daunting. So young, he thought.

"Morally, my lady," Isfir related, "I would arguably have taken your side and be happy about it; it really is, to use your terms, a virtue. But in such other fields as these, I apologize, we are going to have to make trade-offs... just like garments with the exact same patterns that you had so gracelessly torn up would not reappear no matter how many risnas--be they gold or silver--you shall be pouring to fix them, or how many times you think we shall be paying lip-service about it. Best I can do is plead for your prudence for next time."

"Are you telling me then, to my face, that you will not see to my order to start clothing those urchins better?!"

"With due respect, if you had that sort of attitude when you entered the first time, nothing of this mess need have happened. At all."

"DARN YOU, I'M THE--"

"--Princess," Rashid finished, grabbing his half-sister out and around the armpits to help restrain the latter from actually doing something either might regret. "Sound point he's got, Zalea, and you darn well know it. Far as I'm concerned, you're apologizing for one mess; let's not conjure another, shall we."

"Darn it! Ya just don't get it, do ya, Pipsqueak?! Are we not royalty? Our orders must be seen to!"

"Not like this. You want our orders to be carried out with respect? How 'bout showing Isfir some, for starters? You are in his establishment..."

The princess leered. "That an order too, now? What the heck happened to 'I'm not gonna cross ya anytime soon'?"

"I did say I was not gonna yield without a fight, as well. Did you seriously expect to be let off with causing another ruckus? I say, not on my watch."

"Quit bein' ridiculous. Ya've seen me fight--yer wormy self won't last even a minute! 'Sides, ya're younger, how can ya hope to order me 'round here, punk?"

"Akhi Mustafa is young," his true brother retorted. "Entire battalions would look up to where he happens to be speaking, nonetheless; all armed where he might not, and not one shall dare make the draw. If I can't even handle one single twat of a sister, unarmed save for a whip-like tongue... I must wonder, what would that make of me?"

Azalea stopped squirming, shook him away, and matched him glare for glare.

"Watch yer steps there, Pipsqueak," she advised, not without a hint of malice. "Ya spoke like I'm some kind of beast to be 'handled', and heck, maybe I am... but neither had I yielded my ground when confronted by something hundred-fold more dangerous than you, dear Rashid; and this without even our precious Prince Mustafa to watch my sorry back. I'm not gonna start now, mind you, and especially not 'cause you told me to!"

The princess again turned to regard Isfir who had not thought of interrupting this banter within his premises, pleasantly taken aback as he was by Zalea's bratty but darn-solid assertions. "Listen, you. Guild or not, you know you can't keep lookin' the other way with those urchins. Reach out--to them, and the fellows within this freakin' guild. Takes time, but I trust you may pull that kinda thing off. Huh?"

Again Rashid found himself agape. 'Trust'... that was not quite something he'd readily associate Azalea with, all this time. Might he not be over-thinking things? Might this 'wolfling princess' not actually be kinder than meets the eyes?

Presently, the shop's proprietor nodded. "I'll see what I can do, excellency. If there's anything else-"

"Pipsqueak--we're leavin', and I mean now. Nice day, Isfir."

***

The royal pair walked on, ostensibly to their next destination... but at one crossroads, Azalea took an unexpected turn, walking down the path to one of the city's open public spaces.

"Think we'll be takin' a little detour, Bro," the princess reasoned, as if able to fathom her half-brother's curiosity, "if ya don't mind?"

"Don't think so," came the reply. "Felt you'd need to be taken aside at some point."

Zalea managed something between a snort and a snicker. "That obvious, huh."

"Hey, at least it proves you capable of... compassion? That the right word? No, really--that was my first time seeing you actually trying to get something good going; 'tis a start. A noble one, I should say!"

"Darn right; ask yer sister how nobly I'd fought. Bare fists, when I should've been outta that contest!"

"No less noble than piercing one's opponent from afar like I'm training to do, trust me," Rashid shot back. "How Big Sis had chastised me on that too. 'Sides, she had agreed to your challenge; that implies preparedness against whatever tricks you may have had up those sleeves... and this she'd failed to do. And that headbutt!" He beamed. "Man, was that most unexpected."

Zalea huffed, having spotted an unoccupied wooden bench around a pillar of sundial and unceremoniously claimed a place on the seat; the prince following soon after.

"You said somethin' 'bout wanting to take me aside earlier, Pipsqueak," the princess went on, "and now I'm gonna assume that wasn't out of a sudden desire for a downtown sisterly smooch. What do you want?"

"Um... not like I would have turned that down anyhow. But," he added hastily upon glancing at Zalea's 'excuse you, what?' countenance, "thing is... I'm kinda worried."

"What ails ya?"

"No--that question fits more for you, I think. I've known for quite a while that Mirani's quite the crackpot, hence my mom's latent wariness with her-"

"And she ain't wrong," Zalea cut in. "Vessy's arguably the softer of Dad's bed-warmers, seen it myself... the demeanor, I mean. Protective, nurturing, soft-spoken yet understood darn-well when to stand her ground, and did so admirably if ya ask me. Little wonder that such a figure would've second ideas 'bout approachin' a full-blown schemer with few qualms on meetin' her ends."

"Yes, well... that could also have something to do with my mom's upbringing. Before meeting up and hooking on with Dad, she had been trained to take the reins of rule from her mom, the late Lady Ashara Darys... who, Mom once told me, had herself come from a line of ardent believers on The Straight Path; that was among the reasons she agreed to take Dad's hand, she said. The ways she's been rearing us kinda left me with few doubts that Mom sought to have these domains brought under its wing, as well. Akhi's a prime example- Hey, you fine?"

Rashid waved his hand several times before Zalea's face--for, contrary to her customarily-explosive manner, the 'wolfling princess' seemed to be earnestly listening this time around.

"Vessy hailed from the Sunset Lands, if I ain't mistaken," the princess remarked, slapping her half-brother's hand away. "To have swayed hearts and minds 'cross such vast swathes o' land for so darn-long... This 'Straight Path' gotta be quite the religion."

Vestra's youngest son readily agreed.

"With regards to government, then," Zalea went on, "what values do this religion preach?"

"I'm eleven, Big Sis," Rashid reminded her after a moment's silence. "Couldn't know such things yet in the kind of details that you might've expected. Gotta find that out yourself, I'm afraid."

"Don't think I won't," Azalea vowed, rising from the bench as she did. "Next stop--Aunt Lista's house. Ya with me?"

"Right behind."

"Good boy."

"Stop with the chiding already, would you?!"

"'Fraid not, Crybaby."

(Part 3)

In truth, Zalea's motives for this second 'drop-in' were (quite unlike her earlier encounter with Isfir) far from purely altruistic.

Her half-brother had made it clear that, with regards to government, she would have to 'find that out' by herself. In the princess's presently black-or-white outlook, 'government' meant 'who should rule next'... and in this case, there would likely be three possible candidates for leadership if and when Urdin's disciplinarian reign shall have run its proper course. More might yet pop up--in which case they'd be outright malcontents--but only three shall really matter.

The first candidate, and perhaps most inevitably, was Prince Mustafa, being the current Amir's firstborn son and closest to the point of betrothal or outright marriage. Currently the homecoming overseer of Nasria, this prince seemed to be well loved by people with whom he had made contact, be it recent or distant--including members of his expanded family. His ascendancy would also mean one step closer to the fulfillment of Vestra's dream of a 'faith-inspired' realm, for Mu was as zealous as he was disciplined, with the vigor of youth to match; in other words, 'the Charm'.

The second candidate, depending on whether Mirani was still around at such an 'opportune' moment, might well be Dastra; being the only male, if younger, of her children... and in his case it could only be 'the Guile'. The appointment of such a minor to the Amirate's throne would then 'necessitate' the establishment of a regency; the kind of development that Zalea was under few illusions that her foxy lady mother was already aspiring to shape, but that which the 'wolfling princess' was equally determined to nip in its crib.

A regency with the lustrous Mustafa out of the way (for such seemed to be the likeliest path that the arch-schemer would've taken) would sooner dissipate order than reinforce it--the cornerstone of every reign--and Zalea had every reason to doubt her weak-kneed true brother, on his own, would survive even this first wave of dissent.

Freak, the princess fumed inside, what was I thinking? Last time when I was done goofin' up, I had a squad of the vazir's most diehard men scoop me by the neck and husk me into a chamber next to nowhere like a common bed-warmer. Most darn-likely, that same squad would not long be allowed to linger in Mirani's shadow if she could help it, once she's out n' done with the gentle old-timer himself.

Say we're invaded at some point, what would Das have done to try stave it off, anyway--hide behind the throne like the wet-eared whelp he is and hope they might spare him? Nah, just wouldn't do... He'd hang for darn-sure, and Mirani not so long after; all while the lions will have hated us well n' good for ridding Mu, for real this time. My freakin' family!

Gosh dang it, Li'l Bro, if only you'd just pause to reflect! Ya did not even bother to hear me out when ya've got Mom on yer side; yet here I stand, tryin' to save your sorry little butt by gettin' in touch with the mom of a fellow contender...

I am protectin' you here, ya hear?!

Azalea's present destination, in the meantime, was the residence of Lady Alista Rastenia, sole widow of Urdin's deceased brother-predecessor Imran and the mother of their only son Idris. Having at one time been dubbed as the 'Preserver of Azam' as a career sergeant, Id was presently serving as his uncle's one of top-notch emissaries, posted within the domains of a certain House Sabri, up north.

Id's claim would be regarded as sensible to quite a few, Zalea gathered; his was 'the Wisdom': seniority, experience, and bloodline--something the other two fell short of, one way or another. His religious zeal might not prove as fierce as Mu's, but might temperance and moderation not just be what the realm needed?

It was, however, a common secret that Id's aging lady mother Alista had fairly strong apprehensions about his assuming power once again; an issue, the wolfling princess saw, that would need to be tackled with at the soonest possible moment... assuming, naturally, that she wouldn't end up 'goofing up' again.