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Siamak walked through the halls, hurrying a bit when he came close enough to the banquet hall to hear sounds of pre-feast merriment and chatter. He did not want to be late; that would not do at all. He had planned to go to the courtyard first, but the beginning of the banquet was apparently much more soon than he had realized. Rather than thread through the halls, he took the more direct route through the gardens.
The outside world was bathed in a dusky twilight now that the sun had set after a final blaze of brilliant color. Had he been in less of a hurry he may have lingered for a moment and enjoyed the peaceful sound of the chirping insects and evening birds, but he feared time was short. He slowed his pace to a stately walk as he neared his father’s private gardens, approaching the arranged meeting place softly, a skill he had learned long ago to be useful for getting around unnoticed.
His first conscious thought was that his mother was not yet there: a relief since that meant he was not late. He took in the scene with a glance. His father, facing him, was standing with Gjeelea, who had her back to him, near the lilies. He was less than thrilled at seeing his sister, even though he knew she would be there. He preferred to avoid her, which wasn’t terribly hard since their interests were vastly different. Faroz saw him first, but Gjeelea was not aware of his presence until he spoke. Then she turned, elegantly but just quickly enough to know he had surprised her slightly.
“Good evening, Father,” he said with a slight incline of his head, a proper greeting from prince to king. “Gjeelea,” he said politely in acknowledgment of her.
“Siamak,” she returned, also in acknowledgment, nothing more. There was no love lost between the siblings. Siamak wasn’t sure how she did it, but somehow she always made him feel that she was better than he was, though he knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps it was because she believed it - he knew she did. He tried to shake off the feeling, and was mostly successful, except for the niggling piece that remained at the back of his mind, telling him he ought to be acquiescing to her as well. He had become much better at this as he grew older, but he had never completely mastered the skill of disregarding her opinions of him.
He turned from his sister to his father, and tried to determine his mood. It appeared to be pleasant; Siamak supposed this meant that his father had good opinions of the foreign emissary. He would keep this in mind tonight while trying to justify his own distrust. While he didn’t always agree with what his father, he held Faroz as a fair ruler, taking the best paths for the country. Siamak tried to put on a bold face, only partially succeeding. This night would tell many things.
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