BEFORE MY MOTHER LEFT, she used to say that some memories last forever, eternally spinning around in your head until you die from dizziness.

But some others — most — are remembered solely in moments, like flashing pictures or the spin of a bead kaleidoscope, too brief to be recalled by more than a touch, or a grasp or a feeling.

Prince Cairo's eyes stayed on mine for no longer than two seconds. It should have been reasonable to assume that that was where things would end, but the goosebumps running down my arms lasted for far longer than his stare.

Unconsciously, my hands came up, rubbing at my shoulders and arms. Persia has always been a hot country, and I remember long, sweaty and sticky days in the harbors of Babylon, and though I was currently standing near a glass window, I couldn't have felt colder.

"Miss? Are you alright? Why are you standing there alone?" The click of a door opening sounded, along with Maria's slow, small voice.

I flinched before I realized what I was doing, and as I turned around to face the little maid, I found that it was already too late to compose myself.

"Miss?" Maria asked, her eyebrows pulling together as she placed a tray on the vanity. "What's wrong? Why do you look so upset?"

In, out. In, out. In, out.

It took me a few long breaths to fully calm down my racing heart, and when I finally did, I gave Maria a smile.

I hoped it looked convincing, but I wasn't very confident — my cheeks felt like they were under great pressure to keep the curve of my mouth up.

"It's nothing," I said, "I was just looking out the window."

I could tell from Maria's eyes that she clearly didn't believe me, but I also knew she wouldn't have the heart nor courage to question me.

Sure enough, she said, "I see. How was the view?"

I pursed my lips, before taking a few large strides over to the vanity. "Not to my taste; draw the curtains, will you?"

"Draw the curtains?" Maria frowned harder this time. "Miss, we have such good weather today. Just yesterday, you mentioned something about sunbathing; is it not the perfect day to do so?"

"Not right now," I said, taking a seat. "I'm hungry."

One had to say that, for her age, Maria's perception and adaptability to the atmosphere was very good — any other normal child would continue blabbering their mouth away, but she somehow managed to keep all her questions shut inside her mouth.

It was either she had a very good temperament, or very harsh training.

Or maybe both.

All of a sudden, I thought of a question, and my breath hitched.

Maybe...

"Maria."

"Yes, Miss?" she asked, her hands reaching out to arrange the cutlery on the tray.

"How old are you, again?"

"I've recently turned twelve, Miss," she said, before she turned her head towards me, smiling, her teeth protruding out between her lips.

"I see," I said. "And when did you start working for the Palace?"

"Two years ago," she said, starting to pour tea into my cup.

"How were you recruited?" I asked, reaching out to accept the goblet.

"My father worked here as a gardener, Miss," she said, smiling deeper this time. "When I was ten, he suddenly disappeared. Ismal was kind enough to see my situation and took me in as a maid."

My hands stopped.

Disappeared?

"Your father disappeared?" I said, and though I tried my best not to let it show on my face, the sudden revelation had my heartbeat quickening, to the extent that I was sure it had skipped a beat or two.

"Yes," Maria blinked, oblivious. "Not long after that, I passed the training regimen required to become a maid, and started working for the Palace."

"Do you know where your father went?" I asked, lowering my arms. Under the cover of my sleeves, I could feel my fingers trembling.

Maria's story was all too familiar, after all — all too familiar to my mother.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"Then, perhaps, would you know why your father disappeared?"

Maria's busy hands suddenly stopped.

The little girl's face had frozen over, as if she was suddenly in shock, her teeth digging deep into her lips.

"Maria, are you alright?"

As if on cue, the dazed expression she had on her face shifted and she let out a little, forced laugh. When she reached out to pass me a bowl of porridge, I saw her eyes dart quickly to the door. "Miss, what sort of question is that? It's not an appropriate question to ask."

"Why not?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, trying my best to look like I was casually taking a sip of tea, even though I was so excited, I could even hear the rate of my breathing quicken. "How is it inappropriate?"

"This..." Maria bit her lips harder this time, shifting another glance to the door. "Miss, forgive me, I have no idea what you're asking me."

Her voice was weak and timid, almost as if she was too afraid that I would keep pressing her to answer. I resisted the urge to scowl.

She knows the answer, or at least, she has some suspicions.

But why can't she tell me?

The clogs in my head were starting to turn, and I took another sip of my tea, staring at Maria's face over the rim of my glass.

Maria had beautiful, golden skin, but my question had, for some reason, made her turn pale.

"Alright," I conceded. "We don't have to."

The girl let out a visible breath, and when she looked back up, her smile was bright and sunny — I could tell that, as she grew up, she would definitely be beautiful. "Thank you, Miss. Please take another bite of your breakfast, so as to prevent your hunger later."

"Mm," I hummed. "But do tell me a little more about your father, Maria. Did he enjoy working in the Palace?"

"Oh, very much so," she answered, smiling again. "My Baba was a very gentle man, and he loved nature very much. The job the Palace offered him had been his dream job for a very long time."

"What about with his colleagues? Were they good to him?"

"Very much," Maria answered. "Baba used to come home quite late at night because he'd be having fun with his friends, but he never forgot to share those experiences with me as a bedtime story. He was very attentive and caring, and tried his hardest to make sure that I had a very good childhood."

"I see."

And I really did see, because the more Maria talked, the more Maria's Baba's story started to sound suspiciously close to my own Maman's.

My heartbeat quickened.

Nobody else knew that I knew what happened to my mother, not even Khale Aisha, which wasn't very surprising. After all, she had been the bearer of bad news, the one knocking on my door at three in the morning in the wet, humid night rain, trying to tell me through heavy tears that my mother had died in an accident on a road somewhere between Babylon and the colder city which was Massoulda, where she'd been planning to apply for a job.

I'm sure that even Khale believed that as the cause of her death.

And I'm sure that I would have believed it, too, if Maman hadn't written me a letter before she left, telling me that she had to go to the Palace, and that she would promise to write me a letter when she arrived.

For what, she didn't say.

And so I waited. And waited. And waited.

But my father and I were not God, and in the land filled with crime and robbery, our patience was as thin as the kohl wing on a street performer's eye, and that little thread eventually snapped, breaking my family along with it.

The hatred and grudge had always remained, but I did not think that the little maid Ismal had sent to spy on the mysterious, Arabic Babylonian would bring forward such a story — especially one that sounded oddly similar to my own.

Perhaps I have something to thank for to Ismal, after all.

And perhaps Prince Cairo is not the only suspicious thing in this Palace.

My heart twinged, and I reached up and rubbed my chest in a vain attempt to calm it down.

For some reason, I did not think that the rest of the secrets held in the marble walls would be anything quite pleasant.

But at the same time, I was idiotic enough to want to find out.

"Miss? Your cup is already empty." A small voice broke me out of my reverie, and with a start, I finally realized that the goblet in my hand had well been completely emptied of its contents.

I made a sound of acknowledgement. "Right. Sorry. I got distracted."

Maria offered me a kind smile, but when my eyes met hers, I couldn't help but frown.

Was it just me, or were her eyes suddenly showing craftiness?

For a moment, a trace of unease flitted into my mind — was I that easy to read? Had my poker face deteriorated so much in these past few weeks of living here?

"Was it because of the view you saw earlier, Miss?"

I blanked. "Um, pardon?"

Maria tried to restrain the smile in her eyes, but unfortunately, the attempt was futile. "Did Miss get distracted because of the view outside?"

Without awaiting my response, she started to speak again, and this time, her mouth had started to curve up along with her eyes. "Miss, it's alright to be jealous, but you don't have to worry; you're the only one Prince Cairo has gone on an individual date with so far, much less two! If I dare be so bold, I don't think you have a reason to worry."

I blinked dumbly, stupefied, while Maria continued chattering and smiling away, all traces of her earlier discontent due to me missing breakfast gone. It seemed that these words were not only reassuring me, but also her, as my personal maid.

But at the same time, I didn't think that she truly understood the problem here.

This girl... thinks I was distracted due to jealousy?

I had never heard a worse excuse.

Counting the time since I'd arrived in Archaem, I'd been in the Palace for roughly about a month now — how in Khuda's name would that time have been enough for me to fall so far in love with the prince that even seeing him around a group of girls would cause me to become blind with jealousy?

Those sort of feelings could only be described as lust or infatuation and, if it really was love, something that came from the imagination of a child —

Clearly, Maria was that child.

But I guess, from an outsider's perspective, Prince Cairo might really seem ideal.

Perhaps I'm the only one currently alive to know that he's a psychopath.

A small shiver went down my spine, and I coughed in my attempts to disguise it.

"Right," I said, playing along. "That's exactly why. What are they doing down there anyway?"

Maria turned away to take the tray off of my lap, but even though her back was facing me, I could still hear the terribly hidden discontent laced in her small, 12 year old voice. "A group date — I heard from some other maids that they're having lunch outside. I don't know if Prince Cairo will entertain them when he has you, Miss."

Raising an eyebrow, I said, "You're getting more relaxed around me, I see, to be able to say such words so freely."

When I first arrived, Maria had a personality similar to a shy mouse; she was small and timid, and would never speak more than what was necessary. But it seemed that with every passing day, she was getting more and more daring, even having the courage to talk about the Prince behind his back.

Of course, gossip in the Palace was a common interest, but Maria had never been the type to share those rumors to me.

Well, she hadn't been in the past, that is.

When the girl turned back around to look at me, her face had turned slightly red, but she smiled softly as she said, "Miss is good to me, so I will always support Miss' endeavors."

For some reason, hearing her words, I felt my heart clench.

Obviously, she was saying that in the context of me 'winning' the prince, but at the same time, it was such a sweet sentence that I couldn't help but feel touched.

I smiled back at her. "Thank you, Maria."

Maria's smile brightened, and she opened her mouth to reply, seemingly not yet ready to end the conversation.

But I'd never get to hear her reply, because the next second, someone had knocked on the door.

Maria's brows furrowed, and she took quick steps to the door. "Who is it?"

The door opened and from the bed, I could just make out a maid with dark hair bowing, her face lowered to the ground.

"Miss Aliya, I brought a message for you from the third prince."

Ignoring the sudden excitement in Maria's eyes, I felt an odd feeling of dread rising up inside of me. "What is it?"

"The prince humbly invites you to join the group outing occurring in the gardens. I am here to escort you down."

Hearing her words, Maria's smile grew bigger and bigger, but at the same time, so did the hole in my chest.

KAY ©️ 2019.