(Ishtar's POV)

"Wow... so it seems Great-Granddad too had some love, hard-driving as he was," Dista says, beaming in the presence of three of our House's most looked-up-to nobles: Mustafa the Unifier (and, privately, the 'Dragon Tamer'), Brista the Dragoness, and my mom, Kisara Husniria the Silverfang. Wonder how they'd call me next, alongside Narva and this other cousin.

I fold my arms, huffing in awed reflection. "If he were not hard-driving, Dista, we might not have come as far as we had, praises be to Allah. I'm also kinda surprised you could recall that much, Mama."

"Well said," Granddad Mustafa acknowledged, nodding. "Best not be too hard there, though. My late father had spent so much of his time taking in so little nonsense that such thing as romance had not come by very easily."

"Quite unlike us in that respect, don't you think?" Grandmom joins, somewhat teasingly.

"Please," I hear Granddad whisper back, "it's not like you were that easy to subdue, either."

"Oh, dear Mustafa," she gushes. "Glad to know you still have the spirit of someone half your age, after all we've been through."

"Indeed, Mother." Mama too laughs, her mouth covered.

Granddad suddenly looks up over Mama's shoulder. As we follow his gaze, an attendant has quietly made his entrance.

...Wait, he could sense that much even without us noticing? Phew, lots to learn still for my part...

"What seems to be the matter?"

"Prince Arslan has come to beg your audience, my amir."

"Show him in."

The attendant bows in acknowledgement and retreats.

"Dad," Dista says, excited. Were it not for the fact that he is in our grandparents' presence, who have been known to have little tolerance for unseemly behavior--quite unlike his own mom, I imagine--I have little doubt that he would have run for and embrace the wiry, robed figure of silvery hair and azure eyes that comes after. At the proper distance from the grand seat, Uncle Arslan halts and makes obeisance.

"Salutations, Father and Mother. I was wondering on the manner of the table's preparations, and been informed that all are gathered here."

"Arslan," Grandmom remarks. "So thoughtful of you to join us."

Mama rises from her seat. "Since it's clear we are not going to discuss that matter today until further notice, I shall go back and see to preparations for the upcoming main event. With your permission, my amir?"

"Go," Granddad says.

"Take care, Kisa," the Dragoness adds.

Mama takes turns kissing both their hands, bows once again, and retreats, with a smiling glance at me. I smile back, nodding.

***

(Dista's POV)

Even as Auntie Kisa makes her exit, I chance to look at Grandfather's expression... and it is cloudy, if briefly. I wonder why. Dad too does not attempt to stop her for even a brief chat.

"Well, be seated, Prince," Grandfather's voice booms at length. "Not proper to keep visitors standing."

Dad complies, taking a seat one chair to my right.

Gracious! For someone otherwise so occupied with everyday matters... Ahh, calm down, my pounding heart!!

"So then... might I ask why the kids are here?" Dad inquires.

"By our invitation," Grandmother points out. "Do you disapprove?"

Sheesh. So brazen even to adults, is she...

"Curiosity, Mother."

"And why are you here," Grandfather joins, "beyond paying your respects and seeing to your only son?"

"To be of service to you in ways imaginable, my amir... if you still have need of it, that is."

Whoa, Dad, what are you..?

Grandmother's expression hardens noticeably, but her lord husband stops the unthinkable with a side glance.

"If I had no need of you, dear Arslan, I would not have allowed you past that door. Now state your real business, or see yourself out."

Dad rises. "So be it, then."

Not going good!

"Say, Dad," I hasten to tug at his royal sleeve, "can you please tell us about how we came to be here? Please..?"

He shakes my hand off. "The amir has spoken, son. Unless stated otherwise, I'm honor-bound to comply."

"Please, Uncle," Ishtar joins, with a look so earnest, I doubt my eyes for a second. He has never begged in this manner before, as far as I know. "You have taken the trouble to get here. To not make something of it would be a waste, don't you think?"

Dad pauses.

"Kid's got a point," Grandmother remarks. "Resume your seat, then, and do tell us."

"Pray tell me first, why should I listen to my defiant sister's son?"

"D-defiant..?"

My cousin gapes at this, but soon covers his own mouth, eyes wide--I think I see the beginnings of tears also. Grandmother too rises, and this time there's no holding back.

"Because, dear prince, I am also curious. First, you owe Ishtar an apology. Let us see you make it, and I mean now."

With clear reluctance, Dad turns to face my cousin, stares at him for a while, and inclines his head.

"My sincerest apologies, dear nephew," he says formally.

Even I can tell that Ishtar is too stricken to answer as he looks away, red-faced. My lord father, meanwhile, resumes his seat as if nothing has happened.

"Very well," he sighs. "As is required of me, I shall now enlighten you all on how we of House Hospodia had come into possession of these plentiful and prosperous lands. Listen."

***

*Character Section*

Arslan Husniris