The Asters of Ogaza

Should you lie to Angels?

        Zina threw up the moment they stepped foot in the Palace. All volumes and chunks of the beef, beans and wine she’d had at the Princess’s quarters came running back out. Both Asters were taken to the Royal infirmary and were attended to by the Royal physician and nurses. Amare was stripped down to his underwear, massaged with towels and warm water and Zina had to take her eyes away to stop from watching his solid abs. Being in the same room with a half-naked Amare made her want to vomit. Not because he looked unappealing, but because he looked too attractive even in his sickness that it was so uncomfortable. Amare caught her stare once and gave her his cynical smile. Her stomach churned.

          “Miss, we’re ready for you,” A Royal maidservant called for her the same time the physician entered Amare’s room with needles of various kinds. She shot Amare a pitiful look and he tried to return a calm face, but she could see how nervous he was getting. She stepped out and went to get checked. She was also stripped down, a bath was run for her and she was given a clean blouse that smelled like flowers, and pants that were too big, she had to tie them at her waist. She slowly sipped her chamomile tea, wondering if Amare was okay. She hadn’t heard him scream.

          After she was done with her tea and had barely eaten the peppery soup and rice she was served, she walked back into Amare’s room. He was fully clothed now (thank goodness), in a crisp white shirt and an equally white pants. At least they’re not his regular khakis, Zina thought and giggled. She sat on the floor, close to his mattress and hugged her knees. He tried to sit up but she asked him not to, so he lay on his left side, facing her.

          “How do you feel? Better? Stronger? Are you still hungry?” Zina asked, scanning his empty bowls.

          “You’re asking too many questions,” Amare groaned and Zina clucked her tongue.

          “You owe me, big time. Do you know how worried I was? I thought you were going to die. Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic to Bacha leaves?”

          “I didn’t know they’d be in the woods.”

          Zina huffed. “You are so dense. Where else would they be if not in the woods?” He gave her a wide smile and she raised her hand as if to hit him, her upper lips raised in displeasure. Amare laughed and the two fell silent. The maidservant who massaged him came in to clear the plates and see if they were doing okay. They assured her they were, so she left.

          “How did you know though?” Amare asked.

          “Know what?”

          “That water leaf stems are the antidote to Bacha leaves. Not a lot of people have the allergies, so not many people know about the remedy either.”

          Zina’s eyes grew dreamy, the way eyes glitter when their owners are reminiscing. “My Zo,” she said, smiling.

          “What?”

          Zina rolled her eyes with a sigh, not wanting to let Amare in on things that were personal to her. But they’d gone too far along now. There was no need to keep things. As long as they remained in the Palace, their lives would always be intertwined. “My sister, she takes all of these weird cooking classes and she always comes home to tell us everything about it. I learnt it from her. She was taught in the cooking class, so she came home to tell us. And I guess . . .I never forgot it.”

          Amare nodded. “So, she deserves my ‘thank you’, then. Not you.” Zina tsked. “But, if my mouth was swollen, how did you get me to swallow them? I couldn’t chew so what did you do? Mash them with a rock?”

Zina slapped herself hard on the forehead, the sound made Amare flinch. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She could have easily mashed the leaves with a rock, how didn’t she think of that? She slapped her forehead again.

          “Hey, vulture. Why do you keep doing that?” Amare asked with concerned eyes.

          “I didn’t mash them with rocks. I could have done that, but I was too worried to think about it. So, I . . .I chewed them up, spat them and—”

          Amare sat up with speed. “You what?! You fed me with your saliva? Holy mountains, vulture! Do you realize how messed up that is?”

          “Oh, shut it you ingrate,” She scoffed. “Your face was as fat as a cow’s, how do you think I would have felt? I couldn’t think! I was scared and crying and—”

          “You . . .cried?” Amare’s eyes became as warm as chocolate tea and honey. His eyes warmed too.

          Zina exhaled. “I didn’t cry. Well, not like actual tears, but—”

          “Thank you,” Amare said and Zina could swear she saw tears in his eyes. But he blinked them back too fast. “Really, thank you. For . . . being there. You must have been really concerned. To have cried.”

          He didn’t know that she didn’t just cry, she held his hands with all her heart, she stroked his hair, and nursed him back to health. He may never know that. Zina’s heart softened, to see Amare like this. But she wasn’t about to let them get mushy so she broke their eye contact. “Whatever. I have to be concerned. If something happens to you, my plan to cross the Obsidian would have loopholes. And I don’t want that.”

          The warmth in Amare’s eyes vanished immediately. He nodded. “Of course, your plan is . . .very important. You had to be concerned about that.” He laughed and then cleared his throat, wondering why his heart was suddenly beginning to beat too fast, and maybe too loud.

          “So,” his voiced picked up a too happy pitch. “If you chewed the leaves and gave them to me, then that means . . .” He arched his left brow at her.

          She scrunched her face. “That means what?”

          “We’ve kissed.” Amare’s cynical smile returned and Zina buried her face in her palms.

          “Oh my goodness, Amare! Don’t make everything so weird.”

          “Hey, I didn’t make anything weird, vulture. You did that. When you decided to kiss me.”

          Zina rolled her eyes, again, and then laughed. Amare was so silly. “Get out of your head, camel boy. That’s never going to happen.”

          Amare laughed too, at his seemingly new nickname. “Look, let’s not tell Angel about this, okay?”

          “Too late.” They heard Angel say just when Zina was about to nod in agreement.

          “Angel!” they said together.

          “Holy mountains, do you want to give me a heart attack? I have almost died twice in one day!” Amare placed his hand on his chest.

          Angel came to sit beside Zina. “Are you guys okay? Someone said they saw you come out of the Crown Prince’s carriage together.”

          “Well is that ‘someone’ Marjani or Jael? Those females are always everywhere.”

          Hurt flashed through Angel’s eyes. “None of them. But I hadn’t seen you guys in a while, and you didn’t even tell me you were going out.” He directed that to Amare. “So, tell me, are you guys okay? What happened?” He looked at Zina now, not trusting Amare to give him the answers he needed.

          “We are . . .okay. We just—”

          “I was around bacha leaves. And inhaled it. So, I reacted and Zina found me.”

          Angel’s pupils dilated. “You what?! How come?” He asked more questions and whined that Amare wasn’t being careful. He only quieted down after they apologized like a million times, and promised that they were okay.

          “But,” he c****d his head to the left. “You went to gather flowers in a nearby woods for Warrior Z and I, to thank us for being your friends, and Warrior Z was out helping an old lady sell her fruits on the streets. How did she”— he wagged his finger back and forth between them— “find you when you were so far away? How did she even know where you’d be?” Angel watched both of them exchange uncertain glances. “Is something going on between you two? Are you . . .seeing each other? You can tell me if—”

          “No!” Zina blurted. “We’re not seeing each other.”

          “Then why are you both acting awkward right now?” His voice was so calm and Angel-like, that Zina and Amare both felt guilty instantly. But they couldn’t tell him their plan. He would talk them out of it. He would never let them continue.

          “Angel, there’s nothing going on. Really. I just got lucky, that she found me before I died alone in the woods.”

          Angel opened his mouth to speak, but the Crown Prince’s “Asters!” brought them all to their feet. Zina and Amare thankfully stood. But this lie they were telling, it would birth more lies, and lies birth distrust, which breaks friendships. And their friendship with Angel was too important to lose.

                                                ****

          Amare and Zina sparred and parried each other’s attack. Amare would displace Zina’s sword, and in the next round, Zina would displace his. They carried on and on like that for a while— with Amare taunting Zina from time to time about how she’s getting better and may soon become stronger than him—before deciding to go on a water break.

          “What do you think Angel is doing right now? He didn’t want to spar with us, and that is weird. He always wants to be around us, so we don’t strangle each other to death.” Amare asked, wiping beads of water off his upper lips.

          Zina downed her own water before answering. “I don’t know. He’s your roommate, your friend turned brother, actually. You should know him more than I do.” The two shared deep sighs and drank more water. “But I am worried about him. Our leaving the Palace together would be less suspicious if he knew about it. I wouldn’t even care what anyone thinks as long as Angel is aware.”

          “No!” Amare said, forming an ‘X’ with his hands. “I feel bad too, but we can’t tell him that we want to go to he South. He would freak himself out to death. He would make us take blood oaths and swear not to cross it. We can’t risk him finding out. Not now that everything is falling into place.” He shook his head.

          Zina heaved and fiddled with her waterskin. “But then, at the infirmary, he seemed kind of . . . off. He didn’t even smile at me when he sat. Or pat my head. He’s always smiling at me, and patting my head. Do you think something’s up with him?”

          Amare ran his fingers on the lion engravement on his sword. “Yes, something is up. He was awfully quiet yesterday. I don’t know if he’s worried about us, or there’s something else.”

          “Do you think he’s sick?”

          Amare shook his head. “Angel’s as strong as an ox. He hardly ever falls sick.”

          “Is he sick in his heart?”

          Amare looked at her with wide eyes. “Why . . .why would he be sick in his heart?”

          “Because Angel is the one who looks out for everybody. He can hide every other pain, but when your heart is hurting . . .you can’t hide that. No matter how much you try to.”

          Amare looked at her with sad eyes. She was right. When your heart hurts, everything in you begins to break. Slowly.

          “Well,” he wielded his sword. “There’s only one way to find out. We’d go to him after this round.”

          Zina retrieved her own sword and they resumed their training. When they were done, Amare took off his shirt, trickles of his sweat glistening under the sun. Zina turned her head quickly.

          “Amare! Have some decency!”

          He chuckled. “Does my chest make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry if it does but I’m hot and I need to cool out for a bit. Look away.”

          “I am looking away.” She huffed, and then from the side of her eyes, she caught the drawing on his right arm again. She was up-close now so she could look at it, if she wanted to. She tried to resist, but curiosity got the best of her and she reached for the arm. Amare stared at her in surprise.

          “Vulture?”

She shushed him. “I want to see what that is.” She pulled him to herself, they were so close, Amare swallowed.

          She traced the drawing with her pointy finger: a bright red heart she rolled her eyes at. There was something else drawn inside the heart though. It had spikes, of various heights. Maybe someone with spiky, purple hair. Wait, purple. Purple spikes. She took her finger off him and brought out her necklace to compare them. Her family’s purple flame. Why was her family’s purple flame tattooed on Amare’s arm?