hiraeth (floradin)

16 ; whore of the castle

Flerida stuck to her word. By the first week of their newfound friendship, she showed up at Aladin's room well past midnight. She came in to heal his wounds. She came in to check if he was okay. She came in to trade stories of joy and heartbreak with good humor and a light heart.

Aladin liked her company.

"Florante used to do exactly what you are doing," he said. It was two in the morning, and he was curled on the bed. Flerida sat cross legged on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her. "He would come in to heal me."

Flerida tilted her head to the right. She even did that. It reminds him of Flo. His Flo. "You were beating beat, even in Albania?"

"No. He healed my heart."

"That sounds beautiful."

"It is."

She sighed heavily. "This Florante . . . he loved you, too?"

Aladin closed his eyes briefly. Golden hair. Golden smiles. Golden Boy. "More than anything in the world."

She laughed. It sounded slightly bitter. "You believe that?"

"I do."

"That proves to me he did."

Aladin smiled. Oh, Florante. Talking about him made his heart soar. To remember. To not be forced to forget. To love. "I love him, Flerida," he said softly. "I love Florante."

She smiled back. "The look in your eyes tells me all of that."

He felt sleepy. It was becoming habit for them both to sleep at this time. Rise early for the day, sleep in the afternoon. Be awake for the time the stars and sun met in the sky, confused as to whose turn it was to rule. "What about you, Flerida?"

Flerida rolled her eyes. "You do not need to know, Prince."

"I said do not call me that."

"I was joking." She rubbed her hands together. "I will tell you on another night."

"Promise?"

She sighed. "Must I?"

Aladin shrugged. "It makes me feel better if you do."

"Then I will not."

"Ugh."

Flerida chuckled softly. She folded the blanket in her arms and got off his desk. "I promise I will. Not tonight. I do not feel like it."

"Sure." Aladin let her walk towards him and run a hand through his hair. Affection. He was positively craving for affection. He closed his eyes.

Flerida smiled. "Go to sleep now. Maybe another day in the Mosque, maybe not. But be prepared." She swept down to give him a sweet kiss on the forehead. For good luck. She always did that.

"You are a good friend," Aladin mumbled as she was on her way out of his room.

"It takes one to know one."

~

Flerida was not delicate outside of their evening talks. Outside of their private little friendship, she was fierce. She worked as in the castle as an assistant cook. And sometimes she was summoned to woo Sultan Ali-Adab.