Page 13 of Star Crossed Delta
SABA
E ven in the stillness of the night, the lakeside pulsated with vibrant energy.
Crickets chirped in a rhythmic symphony, owls hooted, and the rustling of leaves whispered secrets in the dark.
Yet, as the Sauvage’s new ?arim , Saba was unable to appreciate the beauty, her soul and spirit drowning, legless, lost.
In a desperate search for peace, her eyes tracked over the Sombra’s unlikely moon, which bathed the lake in a soft, silvery glow.
One that was even more wondrous, given it existed in the heart of a dreadnought.
Still, its beauty escaped her, her heart wrenching with the sorrow, disappointment, and the loss of her freedom.
When she agreed to Shiloh’s mad plan, she hoped for some semblance of connection with her new husband, a glimmer of understanding or compassion.
Instead, after the fake civility of the wedding ceremony and his open rejection of her a few moments ago, it felt like she was covered in sackcloth and ashes.
‘ ?arim ,’ a voice said.
Saba jolted, turning to glimpse a tall, elegant synth beauty in a glimmering dress and heels.
‘Sorry to surprise you, my name is Miral. I oversee the Signet strong guards’ needs and sometimes even act as their assistant.’
Saba dashed the tears away from her face. ‘Of course. Come in.’
Saba gestured her in, and Miral stepped into the chamber.
She carried a covered tray, which she placed on the side cabinet in the chamber’s living space.
The alluring creature gave her a keen look as Saba faced her, hands fluttering on her dress front, unsure what to do or say.
‘Is everything to your liking?’ Miral asked.
Saba nodded, her chin moving in awkward jerks. ‘It’s beautiful, sante .’
‘I brought you some hot soup, bread, and port for your evening repast.’
Miral’s perceptive eyes spotted Saba’s tremulous face and wet cheeks as she spoke.
She had a no-nonsense demeanor, which Saba assumed was necessary to oversee the Signet Company’s daily operations.
Her penetrating gaze missed nothing, including Saba’s misery.
‘You’re not who I was expecting,’ Miral said matter-of-factly.
Saba jolted.
‘The picture that Mak, the ?ar , showed me of his bride-to-be, before the wedding, was not of you.’
Saba arched a brow, then emitted a weary sigh. ‘My sister Shiloh is who you saw. She’s prettier than I, that’s for sure.’
‘Was the exchange planned?’
Saba gave a huff, in part at Miral’s straight-shooting.
Also, at the truth, her life had been upended in an instant, and she was now in a world of pain as a result. ‘Hell, nada . It was very sudden.’
‘You’re angry.’
‘Wouldn’t you be? I did this to save her ass. Now I have a ?ar and his entire entourage who loathe me and a title and responsibility I’m sure I’ll fokk up. The ultimate imposter syndrome.’
Saba uttered a humorless, bitter laugh and sliced her eyes from the woman, hugging her body tight.
The synth beauty stood at the edge of the vast room, watching her with silent eyes.
Her shoulders slumped, and she stared at her reflection in the window as if it would reveal something she had yet to find.
There was a short silence. After which, Miral spoke up. ‘If I may, ?arim ?’
Saba swiveled her head back to her and gestured for her to continue. ‘Go for it. It won’t change or improve the fact that I am a stranger in a home that isn’t mine, married to a man who despises me.’
Her voice was tinged with bitterness, though it was more tired than angry.
Miral approached, her soft footsteps almost inaudible on the marble floor. ‘My coding is very ancient, and I have several eons of knowledge built into me, and a few things persist, despite time itself. One of these truths is that people will perceive of you what you show them.’
She paused as Saba’s expression shifted into curiosity. ‘The ?ar expects nothing of you. He has already decided you will fail. However, that, my lady, is your advantage.’
Saba frowned, twisting to look at the older woman. ‘My advantage? How is it advantageous to be loathed before I’ve even begun?’
Miral gave her a slight smile. ‘Because when people expect little from you, every victory and strength will surprise them. I am well acquainted with Mak now, and he respects hard work and tenacity. You can exceed his expectations by starting small and working quietly. You need not make a grand show, but chip away at his poor estimation.’
Saba turned to face, her insecurities still pulling at her, but something in Miral’s words had sparked her mind. ‘And how exactly am I supposed to do that? The ?ar hates me.’
Miral met her gaze, unwavering. ‘It starts with tiny victories. Understand what the ?ar values, even if he won’t tell you himself.
Be respectful, even if he never acknowledges them, but don’t be a pushover.
Show him you have a backbone. In time, he will have no choice but to see you for what you are inside. ’
‘Which is what?’ Saba asked in a whisper.
Miral tilted her head, her eyes kind but piercing. ‘A sacred wife, one worthy of more than just a title. One who rules in her own right, even if it is in the shadows for now.’
Saba sighed, running her hands over the folds of her gown. ‘What if I’m not enough? What if I can’t live up to what a ?arim should be?’
‘My lady, impostor syndrome is nothing but a thief of your potential. You do not need to become anyone other than who you already are. This title, this role, they do not define you. You characterize them. If you behave as if you do not belong, they will believe you. If you act as though you are every bit the ?arim this order needs, they will have no choice but to consider you as such.’
Her gaze dropped to the floor, fingers curling into the fabric of her bridal gown. ‘The ?ar will never forgive me.’
Miral’s eyes softened. ‘Perhaps. But loathing can turn. He may despise you now, but if you show him a different path and demonstrate that he has underestimated you, he will be forced to reconsider. But it must be done with grace and patience. That is how you navigate his poor expectations.’
Saba was silent for a moment, her thoughts churning. ‘What if he never acknowledges me?’
‘Saba, you have to live for more than his gaze. Let him watch or turn away. You, ?arim , have to rise either way.’
Saba took an inhale. This woman spoke wisdom, words she’d have sought from her mother had she been alive.
She appreciated Miral’s kindness as tears pricked her eyes. ‘ Sante , Miral.’
The Signet AI offered a rare smile. ‘From what I understand, ?ar Mak’s parents also had an arranged marriage, and his mother was terrified, too, when she first took helm of the family.
However, she left behind a great legacy, so take hope from it and shape your sovereignty. Believe me, my lady, you will reign.’
As Saba mulled her words, Miral took a slight bow. ‘I’ll leave you now.’
‘ Sante again,’ Saba repeated.
Miral exited with a swish of her dress, shutting the door behind her.
Saba glanced at the food tray and checked her hunger status.
It had long fled her.
So, with a weary sigh, she turned and crossed into the bridal chamber.
The soft flicker of candlelight cast shadows on the ornate furnishings surrounding her. The room was empty and cold, starkly contrasting with the warmth and intimacy she craved.
As she approached the bed, its opulent display mocked her with its grandeur, and a sense of loneliness washed over her.
She had walked into her sacrificial choice to marry Mak, well aware that their union was born out of necessity and convention, not love or desire. Yet, a small part of her had dared to hope for something more.
There had to be a way for her to carve out her path and gain some independence and autonomy amid the confines of her marriage.
Despite the odds stacked against her, she vowed to seize control of her destiny, no matter the cost.
She turned towards the window overlooking the moonlit gardens below, breathing in the cool night air.
She imagined it carried freedom and possibility, the wind whispering promises of a life beyond the constraints that had bound her for so long.
With a newfound resolve, she pushed open the heavy shutters, letting the breeze wash over her like a benediction.
At that moment, she made a silent promise to herself that she would never become a prisoner of her circumstances, shackled by tradition and expectation.
She’d find her way to love, regardless of the battle ahead.