Prologue
"Ravar," the young woman blurted the word out. She did not allow herself to worry that she was about to die, not even as she coughed blood from her mouth. Not even as strands of gray hair kept falling from her head.
She was more than a hundred years old but looked nothing less than twenty eight. She had seen many winters and fought many wars. But this? She didn't think a powerful Queen like her would fall this low. She looked so thin.
Ravar, the maid attending to other things in the room, raised her head and walked toward her lady's sickbed.
"My Queen," she slightly bowed her head.
"Ravar," Gamaal slowly opened her eyes.
"Drink this," Ravar said, slowly handing her the cup of water, but Gamaal shook her head, refusing it.
"The physician already told me I have only one month left," she continued.
"I pray that you will surpass this sickness."
"I am dying, Ravar," Gamaal said. "And that is why I summoned you. I want a favor from you."
"My Queen?"
Gamaal coughed more blood and wiped the corner of her mouth with a piece of cloth.
"I want you to marry my husband."
"What?!" Ravar exclaimed, quickly taking a step backward. She was stunned. Who wouldn't be surprised to hear that the Khagan was asking a common maid like her to marry their King? Not that she was a common maid. The Queen treated her like a friend. But still, she was not on the same level as the King, who was very powerful. He was the most powerful god in the whole Country.
"I'm sorry," she quickly bowed her head.
"You must marry my husband for my sake. You will care for my daughter, and you will give my husband a son," Gamaal said. "You will do that for me, Ravar."
Ravar was speechless.
...
If Gamaal had thought she would heal within two weeks after asking her maid to marry her husband, she wouldn't have blurted those words. Things became awkward between the two of them because she had insisted that Ravar and her husband, the King, get married before she died. But she didn't die. And it felt like the sickness contributed to her saying those words.
Ravar was removed as a maid and became the King's second wife. She bore him a son within two years of their marriage, and envy filled Gamaal because she wasn't able to produce a son for her husband after many years.
Her daughter, Amasir, was beautiful, and her husband promised to make her the successor to the throne even though he had a son. But who knew that would turn into something worse later? Because as soon as the King was pronounced dead in his bed, Ravar betrayed her. She ordered a group of royal armies to Gamaal's chamber to force her to acknowledge her son as the new King.
"Mama, why are we leaving?" Amasir said as she followed her.
Gamaal sadly shook her head. Amasir had taken her husband's features. She had long white hair like other gods. She has taken Gamaal's brown complexion and her eyes were the colour of the sun.
Tears slipped from Gamaal's eyes as she saw her chamber burn from a distance. With the help of her soldier, she had set her chamber on fire to make it seem like they had died there.
This was not the end of it, Gamaal knew. Her daughter was the rightful heir to the throne, not Ravar's son. Ravar's son was just seven years of age, whereas Amasir was ten.
As she walked into the fire pit, she heard her dragon growl, knowing her rider was near.