Chapter 147 End Of Negotiations

Ptolomy was more than double the age of Hellma, thirty-two as compared to the princess's fourteen and just a year younger than the queen mother who was thirty-three.

And him being in love with his half-sister and adoptive mother was a secret only to him.

To the rest of the women around him, it was plain as day.

That's why Nanazin had so quickly jumped to defend Ptolomy when Alexander asked him why he chose to save Hellma and not his daughter, in an attempt to keep this shameful secret hidden.

Seeing there was no point in hiding it, Ptolomy stated to Alexander, "Yes, you are right. I'm in love with Hellma and Seelima. And I only married Nanazin because of political reasons"

"And one of the reasons why I fought for the throne was to be able to marry them which normally I couldn't. So, you see, me exchanging them for the crown makes no sense. Without them, the throne is meaningless." Ptolomy revealed his mindset.

Alexander didn't mind Ptolomy loving the queen mother.

But as for his feelings toward Hellma, he could only call him that eleven-letter word that starts with a p and ends with an e.

However, Alexander hid these thoughts and instead seemed to empathize with Ptolomy, "Your Majesty, loving the person your heart desires is nothing to be ashamed of. The queen mother protected and raised you and it's only natural to be in love with a person who cares and dotes on you."

"And similarly for princess Hellma, I'm sure you have watched grow up right in front of you. You certainly helped rear her, care for her, and even played with her. So, it's only natural to develop feelings of longing and attachment to such people."

"I, Alexander certainly won't judge you." Alexander loudly proclaimed which managed to draw looks of slight gratitude from Ptolomy.

Alexander then nodding his head in an understanding manner said, "Since Your Majesty is so adamant then let's come to a compromise that satisfies us both"

Alexander then offered his new terms, "Instead of them being a guest in my home indefinitely, they will stay only for seven years, And they will each write a letter to you once a month confirming their well-being. I believe that should satisfy us both."

These much mellower terms softened Ptolomy but he still grumbled, "Seven years is too long. Two years is the maximum I can give."

But Alexander would not budge that much, "Your Majesty, you have said that you fought for the throne to get the two women. Tell me, since you waited almost thirty years is a mere seven really that much? Are you willing to throw everything that you already have just for a pittance?"

Alexander then raised in palms, "I'm sorry Your Majesty, but two years is too short. Five years is the minimum I can accept. Anything less and I fear all the agreements we have reached in the last few hours will be for naught as I don't believe you will stick to all of them."

"You don't trust your king?" Ptolomy had a tinge of anger in his voice at a mere mercenary making such acquisitions.

Until now, nobody had dared to so openly call him a liar.

"Hehe, of course, I do Your Majesty. I trust you with my life," Alexander said animatedly in an exaggerated way.

"But I also believe in the phrase, 'Trust but verify'," Alexander spoke a phrase he always lived by.

Listening to Alexander's ultimatum and thinking back how he would likely lose everything if he refused this, Ptolomy's face went through a myriad of kaleidoscopic shades of colors as his heart burned and ached at the thought of not being able to see his most beloved two women.

For Ptolomy it felt like a part of his soul was being ripped apart.

But, fortunately, the man did not let his emotions rule him and instead let his brain make the decision, and so he finally agreed to the proposal, albeit with a small modification, "Fine, they will stay with you for five years as guests. In the meantime, you are not to touch a single hair on them or by Ramuh, I swear it will be immediate war." Ptolomy threatened in a menacing way.

And given how crazed Ptolomy was about the two, even willing to go as far as to sell his own family to get these two, Alexander didn't doubt Ptolomy's resolve, and so quickly promised, "I wouldn't dare, Your Majesty."

While in his heart Alexander swore, "That bitch poisoned and killed her last husband. You think I'm gonna touch her with a ten-foot pole?'

"Ummm," Ptolomy curtly nodded and then added his last addendum, "And they will be required to participate in the Sacred Jtaama (Pilgrimage) held in early September every year "

"Of course, Your Majesty. I will personally escort them to Adhan," Alexander quickly promised in joy, not knowing what he was getting himself into.

"Good, then I will hold you onto that promise," Ptolomy heavily nodded.

And with this, the negotiations came to a close,

Alexander's fears of Ptolomy not following through with some of his commitments were largely abated, which in all fairness were true as the latter really did intend on reneging on some of them, which was, at least for the time being, not possible due to the Achilles heel in Alexander's hand

And so the duo walked out of the study, one ticking almost everything he wanted off his wish list and the other barely managing to save his dignity.

'Ahh, Christmas has come early,' Alexander sang in his heart.

The talks had lasted quite a few hours and after Alexander came out of the study and gazed outside, he noticed that the sun had moved from the east side of the sky to the midwest side, signaling that morning had passed and even noon was nearing its end.

Alexander estimated that it was around two to three o'clock.

Feeling hungry, Alexander made his way to the main hall of the palace downstairs, where he felt the whole floor being wrapped up in the sweet, earthy aroma of cooked porridge.

The cooking to feed the hundreds of thousands of people tomorrow had already begun.

Alexander followed his nose and the hustle and bustle to pinpoint the center of the chaos and was soon taken to a part of the palace he had not yet visited.

It was past the inner courtyard, through a second large corridor, which then opened up to a grand hall even bigger than the front one.

And the opulence and grandeur displayed here were on another level compared to the former hall.

The huge hall was located right next to the Life sea, with one small door leading to the palace that Alexander entered by and the three other sides only barricaded by magnificent pillars, allowing everyone to bathe themselves in the warm breeze and the sandy shores of the sea.

The structure was more than a hundred meters going by Alexander's eyeball estimates, made of black onyx floors and white marbled pillars giving it a dissonant feeling using the contrasting colors and making one feel reverence and diffidence once inside.

The marbled pillars were huge and craved with golden mosaics halfway up, making them sparkle in the golden sunlight like they were made of solid gold.

The ceiling was domed shaped, with many colorful religious depictions of Ramuh decorating the inside walls and with huge golden chandeliers hanging off it to illuminate the place once the sun set.

There was a raised white marbled platform at the end of the hall, right at the edge of it, just bordering the sandy beaches and all along the border of the hall. at regular intervals, there were many small pools filled with water.

Next to these were velvety, translucent curtains, hiding large beds next to them.

The whole architecture and the painting made the place feel like a place of worship while the pools and the beds made it feel like a place a noble would bring his concubines for some sybaritic fun in the water and bed.

'Is this the royal family's temple or the king's personal haram?' Alexander asked himself as he noticed both the ritualistic and hedonistic motifs.

Little did he know it was both and he would soon be forced to be a part of it.

But right now, the place was neither as it was being mobbed by literally ten thousand people.

Currently, next to each of the forty or so pools was a huge burning log fire, on top of which sat a gigantic pot of boiling porridge, bubbling away.

Several slaves and servants attended to each of the huge pots, stirring the gruel inside, putting fresh wooden logs to keep the fire going, cleaning the accumulated ash from underneath, pouring the water from the pool into the pot and mixing it with the grains to make the porridge, and once cooked, removing the huge heavy pot off the fire by placing thick wooden sticks under the neck of the pot and lifting it up with the help of several men and then replacing it another one to start the process again.

The whole place screamed one word- Busy! Busy! Busy!