Durkhanai took the woman’s hand, and they began a slow walk. This was what it was to be Shehzadi: to spend time with the people, to be their princess, their daughter, their sister, their friend. To be everything, for everyone.

They walked past a little creek, and the whitewater looked like a stream of luminescent milk.

“Look, Nano,” she said. “See how beautiful Allah has made our world.”

“And He made our Shehzadi most beautiful of all,” Nano responded, kissing Durkhanai’s face. “But how I miss my Hussain.”

The old woman spoke of her son, who had died in the ongoing war against the Kebzu Kingdom.

“He died with honor,” Durkhanai reminded her, but she knew it was of little consolation.

The people were too heartbroken over those lost to the endless wars against the Kebzus and the Luhgams.

The war against the Lughum Empire was the only thing keeping Marghazar safe from becoming a colony. Their imperial-minded neighbors had been expanding for decades, and the Lughum Empire had the advantage of size and resources. The only reason Marghazar had remained unconquered was because of their ability to fight in the mountainous terrain.

The wars had become worse in the past few years. She knew it was because the Badshah was getting closer and closer to defeating the Luhgam Empire once and for all and was thus disbursing all his energy and resources to the eastern front.

But she couldn’t tell the people as much.

Losing their men was tough on the villagers not only emotionally but economically. With fewer workers in the field, they couldn’t keep up with the crops. Durkhanai tried to think of solutions. The women could work in the fields, but the children would need to be watched. Perhaps she could establish centers for the children to go after school, or extend the school hours in order to give the adults more time to work?

But as Durkhani continued on through the village and met with more and more people, war wasn’t the only grouse the people had. Everyone was in a mood because of the ambassadors: from the women tending to the grain to the men cutting and cleaning meat.

“The ambassadors are only here for a little while,” she tried to explain. “And it’s in the best interest of Marghazar. We wish to avoid war at all costs. Especially with our men already fighting the Kebzu Kingdom and the Luhgam Empire.”

She could tell they were angry with the Badshah, that they disagreed with and resented what was going on, but they would never say as much out loud. They were discontent, not dissident. She listened attentively to their grumblings.

Always the devoted princess.

“I will speak with the Badshah,” she assured them. “Don’t worry.”