A Marriage of Convenience: Adeleh/Erik


The slave girl kept walking behind the two men, in complete silence as she heard Daroga warning Erik. Telling him to be careful with his words when speaking with the Khanum. Adeleh played with the fabric of her attire as they got closer to the throne room.

Erik rolled his eyes at Nadir’s words. 

“You worry too much, Daroga,” he said. “And put too little faith in my ability to be civil. I shall treat the Khanum with the respect I have always shown her.”

“Hah!” was the only thing Nadir said in response. It was enough. Erik gritted his teeth.

“I show your queen the respect she deserves, Daroga. I recognize how hazardous to my health she could be, should she see fit. But today, I will have to decline her offer for a different wife. Adeleh shall be as close to the ideal companion for a wretch like me. The Khanum shall have to accept this and that is my final word.”

“I cannot enter with you,” Nadir said when they reached the doors of the harem. “May Allah have mercy on you both.”

“I do not need mercy,” Erik said. “What I need is the Khanum to realize that she has given me all that I deserve and more in Adeleh.”

Before they entered the queen’s apartments, Erik turned to face Adeleh. He studied her curiously from beneath his mask.

“Do not be afraid, my dear,” he told her. “I will not let you be harmed.”

And with that, they entered the Khanum’s apartments, greeted by the heady incense and perfumes that filled the air. Lounging upon her throne, was the Khanum herself.

“Madame?” Erik said. “You summoned us?”

Lost Girl Sentence Starters x

“Every minute that I was away,” Nadir said, gathering his wife in his arms and pressing a kiss to her lips.

While in Tehran, he had been starved for her affection, her attention. The letters they exchanged hardly compared to having Rookheeya at his side. He craved her - all of her, every last inch of her - and it had been three long months of attending to courtly affairs and wishing for the simple pleasures of home. 

“It is a rare man, indeed,” the minister of foreign affairs had teased him. “Who would rather be in his wife’s company than make love to his mistresses.”

“I have no need for mistresses,” Nadir said, youthful disdain coloring his voice.

“I suppose I wouldn’t, either, if I had married your wife,” the minister said with a laugh. 

Or if you had married for love, instead of to get your cushy position at court, Nadir had thought to himself. But now was not the time to dwell on such conversations. He was home and he was reunited with the woman he loved. He picked her up in his arms and twirled her around with a laugh. 

“Oh, Rookheeya, you would not believe how boring Tehran was! Your letters were my only comfort the entire time I was there. The Shah had us listen to his heir’s maudlin poetry every night… It was such a relief to return to my quarters and read the words of someone who actually knows how to craft an elegant sentence…! The words of someone who put actual emotion behind her statements…!”

He knew he shouldn’t say such things. The Shah was old and one day, in the not-so-distant future, the Shah’s eldest son - the maudlin poet - would sit astride the throne. Nadir would have to be extra careful what he said and what he didn’t say then. He would have to be careful these days, too. But not now when the only one who could hear him was his beloved.

“Tell me, joon-am, did you miss me while I was away?”