The Castle by Jehanzeb Dar

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"Who knows if there isn't already a group of them conjuring a plot against us, right here within our very Kindgom?!"

Elanoura's eyes darted to her father, who was silent. Nophorus had a dark secret, but everyone knew it. He was sexually obsessed with the dark complexion of Diwanian women; many would even speculate that the reason for his war wasn't just about vengeance, but in fact, more about colonizing the Diwanian people, changing their ways, and implementing them into his ruling system. Elanoura's mother died before she could know her, but Elanoura knew that her mother was a Diwanian. It was painted on her skin.

Something Elanoura was ashamed about her father was how he would pay good money to the Diwanian women within his Kindgom to dance for him during the night. Many of the women weren't so educated and Nophorus used this to his advantage. He enforced strict taxation laws upon the foreign people, thus making it easier for him to persuade the dark-skinned women. Elanoura knew that her father was more than just infatuated with Diwanian women, but also extremely jealous of their culture, their men, and most importantly, their unity.

"I will address my Kingdom," Nophorus said finally. "We will carry out no such genocide, senator."

"But your majesty, as we speak they continue to multiply and—"

"That will be enough friend," Nophorus interrupted and silenced the senator.

Elanoura shook her head slightly enough for no one to notice her frustration. She could feel the hypocrisy, lies, and deception breathing throughout the room and choking her from saying anything. She was well aware that her father only kept the Diwanians alive for his own selfish purposes and profit, not because he actually cared for them. She felt even more discomfort when she looked across the mahogany table to confront the eyes of the prince Gladlor, who had been carefully stealing intrusive and lustful glances of her and savoring every moment of it. He had clear white skin, wavy blonde hair, and brown eyes; he was a prince of one of the allied nations and was expected to wed Elanoura one day. Although she had no proof, she knew that whenever Gladlor was present, his eyes were invasively exploring her. She knew that in his eyes was only lust, and in his mind, perverse fantasies.

During the afternoon, she sat outside next to her father and listened to him address his people from the open balcony of the castle about equality, tolerance, and keeping the Kindgom safe from the corrupt Eastern world. Her hair loosened and blown gently by the afternoon winds, she almost trembled in fear at the sight of the thousands of small beaded eyes gazing skyward at her, as if they were all lost children: hopeless, innocent, and deceived by a lying tongue. The truth struck her so unexpectedly, she wanted to leap from the balcony and fall to her death. She was tormented by her lack of courage and strength to speak out against the lies and ignorance her father spread. She wanted to say something; something to help the lost children below, but she remained silent, like she always did.

That night, as Elanoura prepared for sleep, she sat in front of her opulent table mirror and brushed her hair.