Aiesha lingered just inside the doorway, her paws shifting uncomfortably on the palm fronds. The distant music and laughter from the grand hall filtered through the corridors like a living thing — bright, joyful, and completely foreign to her. Her ears twitched at every swell of song and cheer.

She kept her gaze lowered, respectful but guarded, as Satakhetem spoke.

The princess’s voice was softer tonight. Almost… kind. It unsettled Aiesha more than outright commands ever could.

Amiirad, she answered carefully, her voice quiet and measured, I am only a mazoi. My duty is to guard these halls, not to walk among the guests at such a celebration. Especially not tonight. Sapair and Sitamun have earned their peace. I would not want to… complicate it.

She risked a brief glance up at Satakhetem. The taller female looked almost sincere — regal, yes, but there was something almost vulnerable in the way she spoke of wanting to pay respects. It made Aiesha’s chest tighten with unease.

She shifted her weight again, claws flexing.

With respect, I do not believe it is wise for you to attend either, she continued gently, trying not to sound defiant. The court is still… unsettled after what happened at the feast. Many eyes will be watching. If you wish to send a message or a gift to the couple, I can deliver it discreetly. That might be better for everyone.

Aiesha’s tail tucked slightly. Part of her wanted to believe the amiirad’s words — that she only wished to show civility. Another part, the part shaped by collapsed kingdoms and screaming crowds, screamed that this was dangerous.

Still… the way Satakhetem spoke made it sound so reasonable. Like she truly just wanted to be seen as something other than a threat. Aiesha hesitated, caught between instinct and the quiet, persuasive pull of the princess’s voice.