Chapter Thirty-Seven—Conveyances of an Isekai

Was something happening?

With her suspicions strong after the grand vizier came to the sultan and whispered something in his ear, Jessamine had kept a close reign on her own thoughts and emotions, lest Darius feel something from her.

Shiro was not far.

She had felt him, only some time ago, a questing hope intermingled with seething anger. Wherever he was now, he was too far for Jessamine to convey anything to him.

Not that she would. Not when Darius was sitting next to her on the throne, gleefully watching his gusts inebriate and debouche themselves.

But then she jerked suddenly an outpouring of emotions flooded toward her swo suddenly she almost jumped out of her chair.

Shiro?

She glanced around, her eyes wide. As Darius then looked at her, she turned her eyes to the happenings in the chamber, focused her attentions on the beat of the drums.

She wasn’t certain if what she had just felt was from Shiro, but then, who else could those emotuions have been from? She was too far to know for certain, but without connections to any other than Darius and Shiro, it had to be him.

Darius glanced at her with a grin on his face.

Swallowing, Jessamine tried to remain natural and collected. When she smiled, she knew it must have seemed as feigned to Darius as it felt on her face in this moment.

She broke eye contact with him and watched the party.

Shiro is in trouble.

Darius was a cunning ruler and a highly capable top-tier adventurer. Whatever Shiro and his friends were doing to try and rescue Jessamine—it must have failed.

Jessamine wanted to gnash her teeth and strangle Darius.

She could attack him—even now.

But with his battle mage hidden out of sight—she glanced about the chambers overhead, separated by a twenty foot drop and colonnades of intricately carved pillars—she may not be able to defeat him.

Could she defeat him even without interference from another? She had ceded so much of her power to him. She could take it back, but it was not as if throwing a level. And besides, he would know. He would react.

With the chambers overlooking the throne room floor seemingly unoccupied, Jessamine knew that for this reason they were probably filled with Scorpion Guards. And worse, those Hajja sorcerers.

She had not seen them, not even once since hearing they were in the palace weeks ago. Had not even sensed their magical auras. But sorcerers…

They were a tricksome lot. Often they could mask their magicks from others.

No.

They were here.

She knew it.

With the war effort going badly, and most of this best soldiers and sorcerers on the front line, Darius was still well protected.

Shiro and his friend Ali would not be able to save her. And now…

Now something was wrong.

Those emotions—worry, anger, fear of the inability to change what was happening—were flooding back to her once again. Shiro was close, getting closer by the moment.

The isekai was not in fear of his own life, but rather his inability to affect change in the here and now. She could sense those things about him, if not in those exact words within his mind.

“What are you thinking of, my dear Jessamine?”

Jessamine glanced at Darius, a self-sure smug across his face. She wanted to bare her teeth at him, but as she flicked her eyes down to her sword at his belt, she thought better of lashing out emotionally.

“I was just thinking what a wonderful palace party you have throne, my lord.”

“Indeed?”

She nodded.

“Then why not entertain our guests?”

She looked at him with an incredulous feeling. “And do what—strip out of these already revealing garments?”

His smile deepened. “Perhaps.”

“Ha!”

Darius was toying with her. He would never permit that—not even if Jessamine had wanted to do something so base. She was a jinni, not some cheap whore, if even from one of the upper luxury establishments in Darshuun.

Suddenly the chamber doors thundered open and a procession of Scorpion Guards with dour faced expressions strode in like a massive arrow launched from a siege bow. The man at the head was accented in blue at his cuffs and neck.

As the guards strode in, they made way through the chamber by thrusting the guests back. As Jessamine watched, one guest pushed back at a Scorpion Guard who then proceeded to grab him by the crotch and the throat—pick him up!—and then toss him over the a banquet table.

Food and wine went flying as the man thrashed to unconsciousness. The music stopped and the gusts who were becoming increasingly aware of the disturbance, turned with stunned expressions on their faces.

Jessamine ignored them as she tried to get a glance at who was being dragged into the throne chamber. There was a group of them.

The captain strode up to the dais steps and put a fist to his chest. “Commander of the Faithful!” he said, bowing. “We have captured assassins in the palace.”

The onlookers gasped.

“Assassins?”

“Yes, my sultan.”

“Bring them forth.”

The captain nodded and stepped aside. Then he motioned for his Scorpion Guards to bring them forward.

As the guards parted, Shiro, in gold pantaloons and a thigh-length jacket was revealed, along with Ali, a man she didn’t recognize—and a rare fushi woman she had seen earlier.

Jessamine swallowed hard at the knot in her throat.

Shiro.

He looked up at her, a demeanor bespeaking defeat in his eyes.

No! This can’t be…

As she waited, her adventuring isekai conveyed nothing to her as Darius laughed and sauntered down the dais steps.