An Epic Story: Hannon and Binti Ch. 02

I hadn't cried as much as I thought I would. Maybe I had gotten enough time to fully grasp my true reality so that when the time came to leave, tears seemed futile. Maybe my own decision to not show emotion while I boarded the boat that was to take me to my new kingdom kept the tears away. Maybe it was looking upon the large, angry face of Hannon's Chief Warrior, a man who introduced himself as Khan, and seeing how detached he seemed to be at the final dinner in my honour before I had to leave, that stopped me from crying.

A lot of things did not go according to my thoughts...or my father's promises. I still couldn't believe I was supposed to be getting married, but my alleged husband had not bothered enough to make an appearance at my kingdom, or partake in some form of wedding ceremony. My father had not even thought that odd and it further sealed how insignificant I really was.

Truly, I had been living in a false reality all this time. The only daughter of King Shaeed, Princess of the Adavi Kingdom, the pride of my mother and joy of my father...quietly carried off to a foreign kingdom under the guise of marriage.

The tears may not have left my eyes, as I got on the ship and watched my mother's eyes water with the tears mine were denied, but my heart ached still. My chest felt heavy, and a sudden blanket of loneliness shrouded me.

Khan was either nice enough to leave me to my devices, or he just didn't care enough to monitor my activities. I spent most of my time on the ship, writing about the betrayal of my father and the uncertainty of the life ahead.

By the time we arrived, I was exhausted and slightly annoyed at the discomfort I had to deal with on the ship. Whatever ceremonial activities I was denied as I left home though, the Medira Kingdom tried to make up for it.

I was foisted upon a beautiful, dark horse that instantly captured my attention with its silky mane. Dressed in my tribal cloak, my head was lowered, as the horse trotted along, led by Khan.

We passed through the streets; I knew this because I could hear the hustle and bustle at first, and then I was aware of the loud silence that followed my entrance. I wondered if the people were even aware their future Queen had arrived. Considering my husband hadn't bothered to show up at my kingdom, it was unlikely he had informed his people of a bride.

We finally reached the palace doors, and as detached as I had tried to make myself feel, I held my breath. Behind those doors, was the man I would be spending the rest of my life with.

The weight of that thought caused a slump of my shoulders. Still, curiosity seized me...what did he look like? What did he sound like? Would his eyes be as kind as Joba's? I had not considered any of these all this time, but now that I was here, my thoughts were flooded with possibilities.

"I would suggest you get off the horse now, princess." Khan's gruff voice pulled me out of my thoughts and into reality.

My dark gaze fell on the brown-skinned man. His skin reminded me of burnt clay, his features were hard. I had easily surmised that he was a warrior when I had first met him. He would have even passed as handsome to some, if not for those hard features. His eyes were obsidian, his nose may have been straight once upon a time, but it now looked like it had been broken multiple times, and hadn't healed properly. It was crooked. His lips were thin, and fixed in a frown at me.

"It is unwise to keep the king waiting."

Of course. I was here to be handed over to the king like chattel. Khan stretched out his hand to help me off the horse.

Well, I suppose this was where the rest of my life began.

****

"She's arrived." Mekka's dry tone carried his displeasure at the news, but Hannon paid no mind to it.

It was unfortunate that his best friend was yet to accept the circumstances they were now all a part of.

"Thank you, Mekka." He responded.

He waited silently, until he heard the sound of the door closing to signify Mekka's exit.

Somewhere in the back of his head, a tiny voice kept reminding him he didn't need a wife. Seven months ago, he hadn't even wanted a wife. He had seen what marriage had done to his father, he had seen how it had driven the old man mad, so much so that he had lashed out at him.

His parents marriage had been pointless, with both parties in a constant competition to hurt each other. His mother's every decision was borne of spite. Hannon had been caught in the middle of their war.

The end had been ugly and traumatizing for him. He didn't need a wife, but getting a heir was a necessity.

That was what Princess Binti would serve as; a vessel through which the next generation of his lineage could come into this world.

He rose from his favourite chair, and made his way out of his bedroom. The light raucous his newly arrived bride had caused, ricocheted through the walls of the palace. He had not informed most of the workers that he was expecting a bride.

The kitchen staff had been asked to prepare a meal for evening guests, but that was all Hannon had divulged to them. A large ceremony was uncalled for, soon enough, the entire kingdom would know of his union.

The moment he stepped into the throne room, the light murmurings that had been coming from the council members instantly died off. Hannon's eyes drifted along the features of all seven men whose counsels he regarded. Only two of them had been part of his father's council. Hannon liked to think himself much different from his father in ruling; his father had been obnoxious, boisterous, the epitome of leadership Hannon most abhorred. As a child, he had looked up to Henan, assumed him all knowledgeable, but that had died once his mother was killed and his father unraveled into the mess Hannon knew through his adolescence and a great part of his teenage years.

The counsel he had kept had all been useless. They had watched their king depreciate and offered nothing but false praises and smelly sycophancy. It was why Hannon had gotten rid of most of them.

The seven men on his council feared him. Hannon was under no illusions that he was anything else but fearsome. Yet, they still called him to order when he veered too far from his duty, although such an occurrence was a rarity.

They were his most trusted men, and it was only right they were present when the unveiling of his new bride happened.

He lowered himself onto his throne, "Bring her in." He called out.

The large doors opened up, and Khan's hulking form stepped into the throne room. His Head warrior approached him confidently, but beyond Khan, another form captured Hannon's attention.

She was much smaller in comparison to Khan, but the woman who walked with a soft sway of her hips and her head lowered, was quite hard to ignore. Her carriage was as graceful as was to be expected of a princess, but the hood covering up her entire head irritated him.

"Your Highness." Khan bowed a few feet away from the throne. The woman merely stopped walking, but didn't mirror Khan's movement otherwise, "As you ordered, I have brought to you, Princess Binti of the Adavi Kingdom."

"You have done well, Khan. Thank you." Hannon responded. His hard eyes remained on the woman whose head was still bowed.

Hannon didn't have a sister and had never bothered to familiarise himself with whatever training went on with female children, but surely there must have been some teachings on how a lady was to present herself to a King. Had Shaeed's daughter missed those lessons?

Khan nodded in acknowledgment, just before he stepped away. Hannon didn't miss the sharp glare Khan gave the smaller woman. He instantly wondered if she had been as petulant on the trip over.

With Khan gone, Hannon could now fully focus on the Princess, "If you cannot introduce yourself as proper royalty would in the presence of a King, does wisdom not demand that you reveal your face at the least?" He asked.

She remained unmoving for a moment, causing Hannon to wonder if Shaeed had sent him his defective child. He had simply accepted the older man's offer for his daughter, but had never asked if she had an impediment.

"Are you deaf?" He asked, his voice harder. Insubordination was an alien concept amongst his subjects. This princess would learn that quickly.

Slowly, she reached up to the hood and pulled it off her head, revealing herself.

Hannon had no expectations, and he had told himself what she looked like didn't matter, but by the gods! Binti Shaeed was stunning.

She stood in his presence, with a posture that could only have been gotten from many classes, her dark eyes stared at him with an underlying fieriness and those full lips were in a slight frown. She had a heart shaped face with a delicate jawline, the cloak was draped over her form, but the slight swell around her bust and hip area told of a shapely form.

Her skin was dark, just like her father's, but there was a youthful glow to it that did not exist with King Shaeed's. He stared at her, finding himself lost for words, a feeling that was rather odd.

Perhaps, he should have had an expectation, maybe she would not have rendered him this tongue-tied.

"Do you not speak?" He asked after a while of just staring at her.

"I wasn't aware slaves were allowed to speak in the presence of their masters." She responded.

Hannon was unsure of which surprised him most; the firmness of her voice, or the atrocious words that had left her lips.

Slave? Had he not had his Chief warrior escort her from her home? Had he not sent Khan to get her with his best ship? Had she not rode on a horse befitting of royalty? Yet, the first words she thought to utter to him, were accusations of enslavement?

"Do you think yourself a slave, Princess?" He asked, his eyes traveled over her form in inspection, "I do not see your chains, you're dressed in the finest of cottons, not a blemish to your skin, nor a tear stain against your cheek. Does your father welcome his slaves on horses as grand as that which I welcomed you with?" He asked, his tone was casual, but Hannon was terribly offended by her assertions.

"A grand welcome does not negate the purpose of this filthy exchange." She spat, "In my kingdom, a husband presents himself to the bride's family for a wedding ceremony, not send their servant to retrieve them."

If there were any notions that Binti was speaking on anyone else, she quickly dispelled it by glancing at Khan in a rather derisive manner.

Khan maintained his blank stare, but Hannon was certain his friend was seething within. Binti Shaeed was unlike what he had expected, it was now clear why her father was so quick to pawn her off to him.

Women didn't speak with such condescension in his kingdom, certainly not of men as highly ranked as Khan was, or to him. She had no coyness to her actions and no tact. Had she, like him, lost her mother so young, that there had been no female influence to teach her how to address men?

"I apologise if your father and Khan failed to give you a proper introduction to what is expected of you in my palace, Princess..." Hannon began diplomatically. The slight confusion mixed with hope in the princess' eyes would have given a lesser man pause, but Hannon was anything but a lesser man. It made the blow that much easier to deliver, "...but while you are not here as a slave, you are here as chattel. You are a barter. You're not my queen, nor even a daughter of this kingdom. You're here to warm my bed, to satisfy my sexual urges and to bear my seed. You're here to attend to my needs, therefore, I will not have you disrespect my people, how much more, my Chief Warrior, to boost your worthless ego."

Hannon watched the shock register on her pretty face slowly, a hint of shame lingering in her eyes. She had no words with which to counter him and her silence filled him with an unexplainable sense of pride.

"I would suggest you attune yourself to what is expected of you, rather than seek that which you have no rights to." He stated, "A maid will be assigned to you, and she will intimate you on your role as my bedmate. Hopefully, your time here will improve your manners."

****

Cursed!

Yes. That was the only explanation for how I ended up in this prison.

As a child, my grandmother had regaled me with tales of reincarnation. She had told me of how slave women could be reincarnated as royalty, a reward for their sufferings in their past lives. I had taken those tales and assumed myself one of such persons, I had even offered them as explanations to my parents for why I enjoyed spending time with commoners in the outdoors. I had been one of them in my past life, I was only born into royalty as a reward for living well.

Ha! A joke! My father must be having a hearty laugh in this moment at my expense. Reward? A curse!

If indeed I had been a slave in my past life, I must have murdered my master before my death. That was the only reason such an unfortunate lot had been cast at my feet.

Married to a brute, an animal, unceremoniously!

Anger coursed through my veins, boiling my blood so much I imagined my skin was incredibly warm. My eyes burned with unshed tears, as I was led to what would be my chamber by the maid Hannon had assigned to me.

I had put up a brave front in his presence, but I was desperate to shed the tears I had been fighting for days.

"We're here my Queen." The oddly cheerful maid said to me in a soft, sweet voice, just before she opened the door to my chamber and led me in.

I looked her over, confused as to what had her so cheery and why she had referred to me as her queen. Queen? Had the despicable man I was now condemned to call 'husband' not made it clear in the presence of his members of council, that I was no queen? Had he not informed his palace staff same?

I breezed past her, and went straight to the large bed in the middle of a room I couldn't be less interested in exploring. The maid- Niasse, stared at me, perturbed by my behaviour I imagine. Her large blue eyes held questions she probably thought herself too lowly to ask.

And then a bright smile popped on her face, "Is it to your liking?" She asked.

"Does it matter?" I fired back at her. Did she not see how miserable I looked?

Niasse had the sense to ease her smile, she lowered her gaze only briefly, before deciding to explore other topics, "You have a changing room filled with Mediran dresses the king will require you to wear, I will be present to help you with your morning preparations, whenever you're bored, I could take you down to the courtyard and we'll do some sewing, or singing, whichever most captures your interest. The king requires you to have dinner with him every night..."

Niasse continued speaking with herself. Nothing she said was of any interest to me. I did not plan to be a dutiful wife to a man who told me I was no more than chattel. I did not plan to follow whatever rules that were laid out, nor wear their ugly traditional wears.

I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to fall asleep and wake up in my bed, in my kingdom. I felt my chest grow heavy in sorrow.

"Leave."

I spoke up, cutting Niasse off mid-speech.

"My Queen..."

"I am NOT your Queen!" I spat, the words leaving my lips with all the bile that rose within. Niasse stared back at me with fear and concern.

She wasn't the one who had put me in this bond. She was merely a servant, doing what was expected of her. Regret washed over me, as I realised I was pouring my frustrations out on an innocent party.

I lowered my gaze, reeling in my wild emotions. "I want to be alone, please leave." I repeated, my voice much softer now.

Niasse must have noticed the difference in my tone. She gave me a tight smile and nodded, "I'm sorry for being so forward, I should have considered you would be exhausted from your long travel. I will let you rest now my Queen."

She curtsied and walked out of the chamber, closing the door with a soft click. Indeed I was exhausted, but it wasn't because of a trip. Niasse knew that, she had only extended some grace to me.

I stared at the large, wooden door for a moment, taking in how alone I now was. Exhaustion seized every limb in my body, as I began to tremble, allowing the tears I had been holding back all this time, spill.

Alone.

I had never known such a concept, I had never thought I would know what it was like to be alone. I had always been surrounded by friends and loved ones, people of similar culture and interest. I had never paused in all my years, to take in the gift of being surrounded by such love. I had just let those moments pass like they were a never ending loop, to be repeated the rest of my life.

My new reality caused a heaviness in my chest. I lay halfway on the bed, and let the tears drop, while being as quiet as I possibly could.

If I didn't let the tears out now, I would break at a later time, even worse, in the presence of my chief tormentor.

That was not an option.