The royal guards arrived soon after, but it was already too late. They could only observe what Sci already knew:  the young Wanderer had moved on. Gone to meet the Gods. The seven of Sin or the seven of Virtue. The accumulation of all his actions in life would determine whether his would find peace forever. Or war.

The guard who pronounced him dead jerked the spear out of the youngster's thigh. The muscle twitched, a final spasm, then blood gulped out of the wound and reddened the already soiled white robes.

"I didn't mean—"

"SILENCE!" barked another guard. The horse on his gilded plate wore a silver crown; he was higher in rank than his nearly identical twins. "Your job is to talk to these people until we take over. That's why you guard the gate. Not the palace."

"The gate got closed," Esen protested. "That man was climbing over the wall. He would have made it into the garden."

"Where he would have been arrested by men and women more capable than you," the guard snarled.

Esen remained calm. "The one closing the gate was one of you."

"You think you're a big man, don't you, boy." The guard came closer to Esen. His nose practically in Esen's face. "The lot of you are here because there's a wealthy hand stroking your cheek, keeping that honour high. You're worthless scum. Return to your post."

"Yes, Sayid," Esen hissed through his teeth.

The guard that had yanked Sci's spear from the body marched towards her with long, aggressive strides. He pushed the weapon into her hands. "I take it you know how to clean this, Scirocco."

"You know my name?" she mumbled. 

"Your face—your name. You're—what—barely fourteen. It's not good news that we know who you are."

Sci concentrated on the blood dripping from her spear. Her vision blurred. The scent of sour iron wafted around her. She hated being the ugly girl who always stood out in a crowd. Scirocco with the scar. All she had wanted to do was her duty. Be a soldier.

Esen grabbed her hand. "Sci, let's go back."

She refocused her attention to him, her milk brother who had resented her for many years and now acted like a lost cub. It was no wonder the guards knew who she was. She hadn't led an austere life either. She was the girl who had passed the Raja's test without going to Orchid Hall. She had caused a rift between the Rajas; the Alafin himself had questioned her. And then that desert storm. The scar on her face now accompanied by a scar on her heart that wasn't as visible, but twice as painful.

"Sci?" Esen asked. "Are you alright?"

"I killed someone," she whispered. Her body temperature rose when she realised she might have used magic. "What if... How do I look?"

"Sweaty..." 

Then his lips formed an understanding oh. Before he could say anything, the gate rattled open.

A large man, almost as broad as he was tall, stepped beneath the rising spikes. The horse on his plate had a crown of gold. On his belt hung a scimitar, the scabbard shone with a thousand glittering gems.

Sci knew who he was: Walee. The Queen's personal guard.

Nobody outside the royal family got so close to her as he.

 "You." He pointed at Sci. "Come with me."

She glanced at Esen, their eyes locked for a fraction of a heartbeat. She found the same fear in him that palpitated through her, filling her ears with the rush of hot blood. 

"It'll be fine," he mouthed. His adam's apple bobbed up and down. The palm of his hand slowly glided over hers, a small act of defiance to let go.

She gave a quick nod before facing Walee. The man took her spear from her. "You won't need this."

She followed him in. The green grass was such a contrast to the sand on the other side. Tall palm trees cast a shadow over the pond. Lilies drifted on the stacked platform leading to the life-sized marble statue of Queen Rhanis on a staggering horse.

Sci wondered if the legendary Queen had ever felt the same nerves churning through her, the fear of the unknown. Another questioning. A punishment.

The scent of desert roses and freshly baked lemon cakes greeted her when she stepped inside the palace. A fountain sprayed a mist of water through a hall so high she couldn't see its roof.

She tried to find her reflection in the water, to see if her hair bore any streaks of copper-red. There wasn't enough light. Her shot had been perfect. It could have been magic. What if it had been magic?

Walee handed Sci's spear to the first royal guard they passed. "Take care of this."

The woman bowed obediently.

After that, he walked up the emerald marble stairs; the floor's pattern matched the storm going on in her head. Walee was the Queen's personal guard; he didn't interfere unless it was serious. This had been the one step too far.

She would surely die. That was why he had taken her spear—she wouldn't have anything to defend herself with. The Alafin had been right—the army would show her true colours.

Walee brought her to a candlelit room that smelled strongly of incense. Sweeter than the one the Wanders had carried, which was no surprise. The Queen had no reason to provoke anyone; she was the Queen. The voice of the Gods of Virtue.

They turned the corner. 

Sci froze. There she sat on a throne of purple cushions in a light blue dress adorned with gold. A matching sapphire graced her doll's face. Not a wrinkle on her face as her tigers rose and padded towards Walee and her.

"I brought the girl, Your Worship," Walee said.

"Thank you," she said.

Five hundred pounds of predatory flesh sniffed at Sci's feet. She bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut as the animal licked her with its large, rough tongue; the equivalent of sliding down a desert hill without protection.

It was a well-known fact that the royal family housed tigers; they had for centuries. The queen had two. Her children each had one, gifted upon birth, raised to be best friends. With those wild cats protecting them, Sci wondered why in the Holy Hells one would require guards. History books even suggested that on more than one occasion, enemies of Scoria ended up in a tiger's belly.

Raja Salem, she thought. He had mysteriously disappeared. Left Alburkhan—so the rumours said.

Or turned to lunch?

Sci let out a squeak as the smaller one jumped on its hind legs and placed its retracted claws on her shoulder. The weight was enormous. The sharp teeth that brushed her skin, terrifying.

"Shari, Taika—that's enough," the Queen said without raising her voice.

The smaller tiger pounded down, yawning. It stayed put, right in between Sci and Walee. The bigger one tiptoed back to the Queen, then brushed its head against her skin. After giving the animal a kiss, the tiger laid down on her lap, purring like a cat.

"What's your name?" she asked.

The second tiger remained still like a statue.

Sci sought for words she never told she could lose. After a few breaths, she said, "Scirocco bint Harun bin Tayo, Your Worship."

"Makurdyan ancestry." She smiled softly. "I like Makurdyans. They're more honest... harder workers. Alburkhan is growing lazy. Too much pride." She stroked the tiger. "Your name sounds familiar, though I don't think we've spoken."

"My abah is an explorer," Sci said. She didn't want the Queen to remember the real events she was associated with. "He hopes to find land south of Scoria."

The Queen hummed. "An admirable dream. But you do not share his dream—I take it. Always away from home. Always running the risk of going down, ship and all."

"I do not fear death," Sci said. "I've come close but..."

"But?"

The tiger on the Queen's lap turned its head towards Sci, its ears pricked up. Sci found herself cornered. What was she doing? One did not talk to the Queen like one would talk to a sibling. She had to finish her train of thought. Anything else what not an option. Not with those predators scrutinising her, obeying no one but their master who was practically a Goddess.

"When you die, your soul is weighed and you enter the Heavenly Halls. It's a happy reunion. Losing someone is harder. You cannot meet that person again until you too die. That's why I do not fear death, Your Worship. It aches more to be the one who's left behind."

"So you believed you were doing that boy a favour when you took him out."

So the Queen had seen what had happened outside the gate with the Wanderers.

"It was never my intention to kill him, Your Worship." Sci lowered her case. "Just a warning... minimal blood spilt so the Wanderers would go away. The gate was closed... the royal guards—"

"Made a mistake they should have made." She darted a look at the tiger who got up from her lap. "They shall be punished... accordingly." As the tiger laid down in front of her, she turned back to Sci. "But you... you have quick reflexes. What an aim! You're so young too."

Sci slapped her hands behind her back, rubbing off sweat. Praise was the last thing she would have expected from the Queen.

"Scirocco is one of the survivors of the desert storm that claimed the life of seven jondis. She's also the first student during your reign to enter the army without attending a military predatory school," Walee said.

"An extraordinary girl," The Queen said. She tilted her head back. "But what is your ambition in life, Scirocco?"

"I wanna be a soldier, like my brother Indra. Help people. Keep this country safe."

"That's very noble. With a father like yours, have you ever travelled for a longer period of time?"

"No, Your Worship. We don't have a lot of money."

The smaller tiger brushed its head against Sci's leg.

"You can pat Taika—she won't do anything. She likes the attention."

Slowly, Sci moved her hand towards the animal's shoulders. Her fur was softer than she anticipated. Though a voice in her head uttered caution, she found a strange comfort in petting the mighty creature.

"I'm gathering a crew," the Queen continued. "For a mission. You'll be away from Alburkhan for a few weeks. You might not even return at all. It's important—the most important mission of my reign. You would be helping me, this country, and the future of all Scorians."

A slight heaviness settled in Sci's stomach. She cleared her throat. "Why me, Your Worship? I'm only fourteen. I have no skills."

"You have great skills, Scirocco. You wouldn't be here if you didn't."

"Can I know the aim of this mission?"

The Queen shook her head. "You'll receive your instructions once you are aboard the ship that'll take you north. I cannot say anything else. Too much is at stake if the information falls in the wrong hands."

Sci didn't know what to do. But she liked the Queen. She was beautiful, graceful, and kind. Besides, she wasn't going to deny a Queen. Even if this were a trap. Or if this would cause a rift between her and Indra. 

She bowed. "It would be an honour to serve you, Your Worship."

"No, Scirocco. It's an honour that you serve me."