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“Oh, yes, Siamak…something truly terrible has happened,” Gjeelea wanted so desperately to cry, but she could not – would not – not in front of her brother or the Priestess Zamara. The feeling of overwhelming defeat had long since washed over her, and for the first time ever, Gjeelea did not know how to push the feeling away. She stifled a whimper and smoothed the wrinkles of her disheveled robe. Her brother and the Priestess looked at her expectantly, but the princess waited a moment so that she could regain inner composure before speaking. “I know not what we can do, Siamak, to change this.”
“What has happened, Gjeelea?” Zamara asked calmly, her voice soft. Gjeelea wondered if she was ready to handle the news that she had brought. The princess wondered how Siamak and the Priestess would react.
“I was with the lady Hababa and…and my husband,” Gjeelea began. “Then Lady Arshalous came to visit, and we spoke of many things. We spoke of the darkening of Pashtia, and the evils that have settled here among us.” The princess gazed over at her brother, letting her eyes meet his. At first, doubt had consumed her – she wondered if her brother would help her. Yet surely if he was meeting with Zamara, he would find the news horrifying as well. “Then, even as we spoke, Khamul arrived from no where – truly it was as if he had risen from the shadows.”
“And?” Siamak prompted, his voice passive but his eyes betraying other emotions of discomfort and impatience.
“He…Khamul…the king – my father, our father – he asked Arshalous to marry him,” Gjeelea murmured, her heart sinking even as she retold the story to her brother and Zamara. “And Arshalous consented – it is to happen as soon as possible.”
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