"Halt here, sir!" Reloua instructed the coachman.
"Whoa!" At the coachman's utterance, the galloping donkeys halted. "Shouldn't I at least enter the city?" The coachman faced Reloua, confused by her request.
"I have other plans. Thanks for your concern, sir." Her lithe figure gracefully dismounted the carriage. Teleu stood like a ghost at her side, following her every step. "Danke, sir!" Her slender ebony hand handed the coachman five gold coins, enough to water his eyes.
"Gratitude! Gratitude!" He cried with joy as he gazed at the veiled figure with eyes full of adoration. His sturdy arms confined the coins in a well-secured purse. Having uttered his thanks repeatedly, the coachman departed, leaving behind Reloua and Teleu.
"Why dismount at the outskirt of the city?" Teleu questioned, muddled by her conduct.
He isn't all-knowing after all, Reloua smirked. "You are not familiar with these lands. You need a proper introduction to your new home." she paused. "Moreover, I need information on what transpired in the palace in my absence." she slowly walked toward the city gates.
Teleu quietly followed.
.....
"You little shit! Pay before running." a merchant shouted, neglecting his bamboo shop in the pursuit of a child. "Thief! Thief! Bring back my goods." His incessant shout alerted the population.
The kid—couldn't be older than ten—wore tattered red clothes so soiled they looked brown in patches. Dust and grime clung to his bare feet as he sprinted through the market stalls. His skinny arms clutched a small bundle of dried fish wrapped in palm leaves, pressed tight against his bony chest like it was made of gold.
The kid hijacked him. Let's catch him. Having reached a consensus, people ran after the kid hoping to stop him.
But the boy was quick. Too quick. His small frame darted left, then right, weaving between bamboo stalls and wooden carts with the practiced ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. An older woman selling fabric cursed as he nearly knocked over her display. A portly man in merchant's robes lunged for him but grabbed only air. The kid's eyes—sharp, calculating, desperate—scanned ahead for escape routes even as his legs pumped faster.
Behind him, the crowd swelled. More voices joined the chase. "Stop that brat!" "Someone grab him!" The merchant's face had turned red with fury and exertion, his belly bouncing as he ran. But the kid kept his composure, used to the sight of people running after him.
He nimbly floated around bamboo shops, escaping everyone at his tail. The kid smiled at the view of a massive crowd gathering at the market's edge. Joining the stream of people will disrupt his pursuers.
He angled toward a busy intersection where dozens of travelers and locals converged—carts loaded with goods, families walking together, laborers carrying heavy loads on their backs. Just a few more steps and he'd vanish into that sea of bodies, disappear like smoke—
"Make way!" someone shouted from within the crowd.
The kid's smile faltered. That voice was different. Authoritative. Closer than it should be.
"I will catch you little shit."
Before the boy could pivot, a hand—rough and calloused—clamped down on his shoulder like an iron shackle. The kid's momentum carried him forward, but the grip held firm, spinning him around. He found himself face to face with a man cladded in somber robes, the distinct gray-and-black uniform of Nkap's city guard. The man's weathered face showed no sympathy, only tired annoyance.
The kid's fingers loosened. The bundle of dried fish tumbled to the dirt.
"You little shit. Causing trouble in the outskirt markets every single time." the man sternly said, his grip tightening around the kid's shoulder. The boy winced but didn't cry out. Wouldn't give them that satisfaction. "I will lock you up today."
Huh! Huh! The shopkeeper caught up to them, wheezing like a dying animal, sweat pouring down his face. He bent over, hands on his knees, gulping air. When he finally straightened, relief flooded his features. "Thanks, monsieur. This kid has been a headache." He retrieved his stolen goods from the dirt, brushing them off with exaggerated care, and bowed to express his thanks.
"Be careful next time. There are not many city guards in this area." the city guard warned, already dragging the kid backward by the collar. The boy's feet scraped against the ground, leaving little trails in the dust. His face remained blank, resigned. As if he'd known all along how this would end.
The guard disappeared into the crowd, dragging the kid like a sack of grain, leaving behind a stunned but relieved shopkeeper who clutched his dried fish like they were sacred relics.
The crowd dispersed. Within moments, it was as if nothing had happened at all.
Teleu stood a distance away, having watched the entire scene unfold. His jaw was tight, his eyes shadowed.
"Are we really in Nkap? The capital city of Gold Land?" A perturbed Teleu finally asked, his voice low but sharp. "Isn't Nkap the richest metropolis in all of Nubia? Why are such scenes common here?" He turned to Reloua, his expression a mix of confusion and something darker—disappointment, maybe. Or disillusionment. "It doesn't make any sense."
Reloua watched the crowd return to their business, her veiled face unreadable.
Teleu's mind churned. He came across glorious tales of Nkap's lustrous people when growing up. Stories told by travelers, sung by poets, whispered in the halls of Ankh's temples. Nkap—the jewel of Nubia. The city where streets ran with gold and prosperity blessed every household. Where refinement and education lifted even the poorest above mere survival.
Nkap was the most prosperous city in all of Nubia. The people of Nubia considered the inhabitants of Nkap as refined, polite, and educated. Teleu was no exception. He thought thievery and embezzlement were uncommon in Nkap. Rare aberrations, not daily occurrences.
But reality told a different story.
Much to his disappointment, he'd stumbled into two such scenes in a twenty-minute walk around the outskirts of Nkap. The first had been a woman screaming at a man who'd shortchanged her at a grain stall, accusing him of corruption, of bribing the market overseer to look the other way. And now this—a child, a child, stealing food just to survive, chased down like an animal and dragged off to some dark cell.
Confused, angry, he confronted Reloua. "You told me Gold Land was wealthy. You said your kingdom fed the continent. So why—" He gestured sharply toward where the kid had been taken. "Why is a child stealing scraps of dried fish?"
"I disclosed the impetus before, didn't I?" Reloua's voice was quiet but edged with bitterness. An indignant light flickered in her eyes as she slowed her steps. "Things worsened over the past five years. Families lost their jobs due to nepotism. The rich get richer and the poor, poorer."
She paused, staring at the distant city gates—those towering walls of steel and gold that promised so much from the outside.
"The kid surely has a poor origin. Stealing food is all he can do to survive or nourish his family. It's not his fault but the government's fault." Her hands clenched into fists beneath her cloak. "My father's advisors… they line their pockets while children starve in the shadows of golden monuments. That's the Nkap no one sings songs about."
Teleu's eyes narrowed. "As a princess, shouldn't you act decisively?"
Reloua whipped around to glare at him. "If it were that easy, wouldn't I have done it?" Her voice rose, then caught, faltering. She exhaled sharply, reining herself in. "You think I haven't tried? You think I haven't stood in those council chambers and argued until my throat bled? My stepmother controls half the ministers. My father listens to sycophants who tell him what he wants to hear. I'm one voice against a chorus of greed."
She turned away from him, shoulders tight with frustration.
"Move on! There is more to visit." She paced forward, leaving Teleu behind.
But Teleu didn't move immediately. He stood there, gazing at the outskirts of Nkap—the crumbling stalls, the wary eyes of vendors, the thin faces of children who lingered in doorways. The golden city. The jewel of Nubia.
What a cruel joke.
Finally, he followed. As such, both headed toward the city.