Flerida stuck to her word. By the first week of their newfound friendship, she showed up at Aladin's room well past midnight. She came in to heal his wounds. She came in to check if he was okay. She came in to trade stories of joy and heartbreak with good humor and a light heart.

Aladin liked her company.

"Florante used to do exactly what you are doing," he said. It was two in the morning, and he was curled on the bed. Flerida sat cross legged on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her. "He would come in to heal me."

Flerida tilted her head to the right. She even did that. It reminds him of Flo. His Flo. "You were beating beat, even in Albania?"

"No. He healed my heart."

"That sounds beautiful."

"It is."

She sighed heavily. "This Florante . . . he loved you, too?"

Aladin closed his eyes briefly. Golden hair. Golden smiles. Golden Boy. "More than anything in the world."

She laughed. It sounded slightly bitter. "You believe that?"

"I do."

"That proves to me he did."

Aladin smiled. Oh, Florante. Talking about him made his heart soar. To remember. To not be forced to forget. To love. "I love him, Flerida," he said softly. "I love Florante."

She smiled back. "The look in your eyes tells me all of that."

He felt sleepy. It was becoming habit for them both to sleep at this time. Rise early for the day, sleep in the afternoon. Be awake for the time the stars and sun met in the sky, confused as to whose turn it was to rule. "What about you, Flerida?"

Flerida rolled her eyes. "You do not need to know, Prince."

"I said do not call me that."

"I was joking." She rubbed her hands together. "I will tell you on another night."

"Promise?"

She sighed. "Must I?"

Aladin shrugged. "It makes me feel better if you do."

"Then I will not."

"Ugh."

Flerida chuckled softly. She folded the blanket in her arms and got off his desk. "I promise I will. Not tonight. I do not feel like it."

"Sure." Aladin let her walk towards him and run a hand through his hair. Affection. He was positively craving for affection. He closed his eyes.

Flerida smiled. "Go to sleep now. Maybe another day in the Mosque, maybe not. But be prepared." She swept down to give him a sweet kiss on the forehead. For good luck. She always did that.

"You are a good friend," Aladin mumbled as she was on her way out of his room.

"It takes one to know one."

~

Flerida was not delicate outside of their evening talks. Outside of their private little friendship, she was fierce. She worked as in the castle as an assistant cook. And sometimes she was summoned to woo Sultan Ali-Adab.

It made Aladin want to throw up. But it made him admire his friend even more.

Flerida stalked the halls like a menace. She had her back stiff and her eyes cold, chin up and—frequently enough—boots setting a deadly sounding rhythm. She winked at girls when there were pretty ones. She scowled at servants and men trying to touch her. She defended women Aladin didn't even know were there.

Flerida made Aladin aware of the Kingdom's dirty secrets. The sex being bought inside of bedrooms and the forced "passion" against women's will. The corruption of servants and the inequality of pay. The people forced to be silent for the fear of their lives.

He was not proud of it. Not at all.

It disgusted him.

Aladin didn't know what to do, though.

Today, he did.

He was eating in the Banquet Hall. There was food on his plate and more to spare, mountains of vegetables and meat and rice.

He looked beyond it all to starving servants that broke his heart. Food that was served in strict ratios that couldn't have possibly been enough for their stomachs. Food that was barely enough. Food that shouldn't have been just that.

Albania was superior to Persia in many ways. It was not as rich, not as graciously powerful—but King Linceo treated his people right.

Sultan Ali-Adab was dirt.

Aladin caught Flerida's eye across tables. She gave him a discreet little smile, quick so no one else saw. It was so strange seeing her like that. Strong. Carrying in her all the poise in the world.

. . . Queen.

"She is not for sale?" Aladin turned his head. His father was leaning in his chair, mightiest man of all the land. He wanted to rip his head off. "Really?"

General Osmalik chuckled, shaking his head. "She is feisty. I tried once—that girl nearly bit my hand off."

He quickly looked down at his food again, even if the dread was pooling in his stomach.

Flerida.

"Wonderful," Sultan Ali-Adab muttered. "Look at her. I haven't seen such beauty in a woman since . . ."

My mother.

You have never deserved my mother's grace.

General Osmalik snorted. "You be careful. She might tell."

Aladin clenched his fist underneath the table.

Do not touch her! he wanted to yell. Aladin wanted to slam his hands so everyone would see Persia's silence Prince sent to the Mosque to be punished. He wanted to yell so everyone knew of the unjust in this castle. Of the unjust deeds their Sultan has done. Of the inequality and the abuse and all the wrong things.

He did not.

So later, when breakfast ended Aladin strode to Flerida. He waited until she rounded the usual deserted corner she went off to.

"Flerida," Aladin murmured. She did not wince when his fingers wrapped around her wrist tightly.

"Aladin," Flerida said in greeting. She turned to face him, eyebrows raised in a challenge. She stood straighter as well, trying to meet his height. It was interesting to see her like this. "What is it?"

"Sultan has been talking about you," he said. He watched Flerida wince. "I know. It is disgusting."

Flerida sucked in a breath. "Why do you tell me this?"

"Be careful."

"Why?"

Aladin blinked. "What do you mean why?"

Flerida rolled her eyes. "Do not be stupid, Aladin. Don't you see? I am a whore to them. Women are whores to them. We are nothing to men, yes?"

Aladin sneered. "You are something to me, Flerida."

"Oh?"

"A friend."

She sighed. "I appreciate the caution." She tugged on her wrist. Aladin released her.

"Take care," he said meekly. Flerida walked away with her strong gait, boots carrying their rhythm.

~

Flerida told him more about the castle whores. Women kept in a certain wing, to please men. Certain servants. But mostly high officials. Generals, Captains, the Advisors, the Scribes, the soldiers. . . The Sultan.

Aladin looked out for them now.

He checked random rooms and closets. He opened them and scolded the officials he saw in the "name of Allah and as the Prince of Persia".

Sultan Ali-Adab didn't like it.

But he was on a roll.

He was in the training room that day, on his own. He danced with his spear, pretending to dodge and attack left and right. It has been a while since he held his spear and landed aim, ever since the Mosque. Aladin was no longer being summoned by Jedediah for the "sessions". His back was scarred and his legs had an ugly gnash from his knee down to his calf—but he was alive.

And Florante was also alive in his heart.

Flerida had recently conjured a certain perfume that made the scent last. For the clothes. So he could keep Florante's scent with him. And Aladin felt, for the first time in a while, that he was thriving.

If you could see me now, Florante.

You would be proud of me.

Aladin stopped mid-strike at the sound of boots on marble floor.

Oh, look who it was.

He turned to face the entrance, slightly surprised to see Flerida there. She wore one of her male outfits, high-waisted gold colored breeches and a purple shirt. No turban today. But she had the soft eyes she had when it was midnight.

"What has brought you here?" Aladin panted. He dropped his spear to the floor, raising a hand in greeting.

Flerida shrugged. She stopped when she stood in front of him, hands in her pockets. She was shuffling around almost awkwardly. "I need a favor."

"Oh?"

"With us finding the thieves in this castle . . ." Flerida picked at her nails. "It is not so safe for me."

"I see." Aladin began to smile, and she was returning it.

"Teach me how to fight." Flerida raised her chin slightly. "Teach the castle's whore how to wield a spear."

Aladin nodded.

--

hi i procrastinate too much! but woooo an update! our bbygirl flerida! WHAT A QUEEN

kinda rushed, kinda not. leave a vote for saving the castle whores

~ cass xx