The adventures of Amara Zendara
The Mystery of the Blue Diamond
Created and written by Alexander Keller Zendara Entertainment, LLC Copyright 2026
The mystery of the Blue Diamond
Chapter 1
The splatter: Amara stands in her room as dusk settles beyond her balcony. Tonight, the sultan and his caravan arrive to present the treasured Blue Diamond of Aries to her mother, Queen Shakina, as a token of gratitude for securing
a new trade alliance between their kingdoms. Her father, King Elias, has organized the grandest event the palace has ever hosted—and she has to attend. Desperately, Amara tosses dresses aside, frantically searching for something
suitable to wear, while the crystal necklace around her neck swings like a pendulum as she darts across the room. Princess duties can be exhausting. She is often the youngest at these grand gatherings, with no one to talk to. But
tonight, she has someone in mind to keep her company: Adama. Determined to coax a reluctant Adama into attending in royal attire, Amara says, “You know how to hold a conversation… and I think Dad likes you.” Adama protests. “Likes
me? He doesn’t even know I exist.” Amara smiles lightly. “That’s just a minor detail.” Adama suggests, “Why don’t you take Momina and Secil?” Amara glances at a dress, considers it briefly, then tosses it aside. “They’ve kind of
been banned from attending any more events. Sometimes I’d sneak them in, and my mother would overlook it, never telling my father. But then… we had an incident.” Amara hesitates, glancing toward Momina as if asking whether she should
continue. Momina drops her head to the floor in anguish. Adama’s eyes widen with curiosity. “Well… what happened?” Amara pinches two fingers together and nervously places them over her mouth. “You know how Secil likes mangoes. It
seems it’s my aunt’s favorite too…” Adama politely asks, “You mean your Aunt Saba—your mother’s sister? I like her. She’s really smart.” “No,” Amara replies. “Aunt Saba is away negotiating another trade agreement in Port Town. I
hardly ever see her. I miss her. This is my mother’s great-aunt. It was her birthday, and Mom arranged a surprise party for her and her husband. And boy… it turned out to be a surprise, alright.” Amara leans closer and whispers to
Adama, “My father barely tolerates that side of the family. He’s always complaining they eat and drink too much. They never leave… and my aunt has an annoying cackle of a laugh that drives him crazy.” Then she straightens and continues
in her normal tone. “Well, somehow Secil ends up inside her four-layer custom-made mango birthday cake, and right in the middle of the presentation, he pops out with his white head and long furry ears, with cake all over his face.
The servants carrying it are so startled they drop the giant cake onto the floor. It explodes everywhere, covering all the guests in cake.” “My father, completely infuriated, tries to grab Secil and slips forward directly on top
of the cake, splattering it all over the guests again. He smelled like mango for a week, and my mother had to pick bits of cake out of his beard one piece at a time. He was upset, to say the least.” “But the worst part? When Momina
comes out from under the table to grab Secil, my aunt screams the moment she sees her. Turns out… she has a childhood fear of cheetahs.” Amara shrugs in bewilderment. “Who knew?” “My aunt falls backward as her headdress flies off
her head and sails through the air, hitting the chancellor in the face right in the middle of his announcement telling everyone not to panic. I have to admit… that part was funny.” “And by some odd coincidence, my aunt—who is kind
of a big lady—lands directly on top of my father, who is still trying to escape the cake, squishing him right back into it. It became quite the spectacle. The whole palace talked about it for a long time.” “My father didn’t speak
to me for a week—except to growl.” “Momina and Secil were banned from attending any more events, ever. My father even assigned guards to keep them out, sealing their exile from all royal gatherings.” Adama blinks several times, adjusts
his glasses, and responds, “Whoa.”
Chapter 2
The pearls: Momina quietly sits in the doorway between the closet and the dressing room, observing as Amara and Adama talk while frantically trying on different outfits. Secil, however, cannot sit still. He manages to get lost inside
Amara’s closet, rummaging around with an idea to sneak into the King’s party. He slips into one of Amara’s outfits, complete with a string of pearls around his neck, a hat, and heels, then clumsily steps in front of the mirror to
admire his personally customized outfit. Momina is the first to notice him and comments, “You look ridiculous. Why are you dressing up? You are not going to the party.” Secil struggles to walk and whispers, “If I dress like this,
the king will not recognize me, and I can slip past his guards.” Amara steps into the closet and spots Secil. “Secil! What are you doing? Take off those clothes—you look ridiculous!” Momina adds, “I told you.” When Secil turns to
give Momina a dirty look, he trips clumsily, catching the string of pearls on a small wall hook and snapping them from his neck. The pearls scatter across the floor, rolling in every direction. Amara gasps. “Oh, Secil, look what
you have done now!” Hearing the calamity, Adama spots the pearls spilling out of Amara’s closet, tumbling across the dressing room floor. Without hesitation, he darts after them, trying to gather as many as he can. With Amara close
beside him, they hunch over, taking small hurried steps as they reach for the pearls just beyond their grasp. Amara’s eye catches several pearls rolling beneath the door leading into the hallway. She pushes it open, reaching for
them, only to freeze. A tall man dressed entirely in fine black attire stands in the hall. He wears a black cape lined with red silk, neatly draped over one shoulder. He appears to be staring out the hallway window and does not notice
the pearl resting near his boot. “Excuse me, sir, but I am just trying to gather my pearls,” Amara says. The tall man glances down at her, then steps away from the pearl and abruptly walks off. Amara notices a golden brooch securing
his cloak, featuring twin dragons with ruby eyes that glint in the light. “I wonder what that is all about,” Amara remarks to herself, “He does not seem very friendly.” Amara’s amulet glows dimly as her curiosity deepens. She watches
the stranger leave the hallway and stride down the steps toward the banquet hall. Once he is out of sight, curiosity overtakes her. She tiptoes to the window and peers out, hoping to glimpse what had captivated his attention. She
spots a coachman seated atop a gleaming carriage, its team of horses hitched and ready to depart. “Why is a coach waiting there? Someone must be in a hurry to leave,” she wonders. Suddenly, Adama’s voice pierces the air. “Amara,
come quickly!” Thinking an emergency is unfolding, she rushes into her room. “What is wrong? What happened?” she asks urgently. There, seated in a chair in royal attire, is Adama, desperately trying to force his foot into exaggerated
loop-toed shoes. “I cannot wear these! They are squeezing my toes and cutting off my circulation. They are for babies!” Amara smiles reassuringly. “It is only temporary. The royal outfits require it.” Adama winces as he struggles
to cram his feet into the tight shoes. “My toes might get gangrene and fall off. I could die!” Hands on her hips, Amara responds with a smile. “Do not be so dramatic.” She then glances at Secil and swiftly helps him shed his ridiculous
attire amid his moans and groans. “Momina, come here next to Secil and me… and listen up. Here is the plan.” Amara declares, “I want you and Secil to go to the back of the kitchen, where a black, horse-drawn carriage is waiting.
Keep an eye on the coachman and the carriage for any suspicious activity, and report back immediately. Got it?” Momina nods in agreement. Secil raises a paw, speaking in animal language that Amara clearly understands. He asks, “Excuse
me, since we are near the kitchen, could you send word for them to feed us? My stomach is growling.” Amara replies, “Never mind that—I will make sure to save a plate for both of you after dinner.”
Chapter 3
The banquet: Amara and Adama step into the opulent celebration. Amara looks stunning, while Adama, trapped in his stiff shirt and painfully tight shoes, feels utterly uncomfortable. She gestures toward him and says, “See? It is not
so bad here… and you look great.” Adama grimaces. “I feel like two pounds of potatoes in a one-pound bag. This collar is digging into my neck, and my feet are killing me. When do we get seated?” Diplomats mingle across the grand
hall, waiting for the dinner bell to ring and signal the guests to take their places at the king’s banquet table. Amara punches Adama in the arm and says, “Look, Adama—there he is, standing next to the sultan.” Adama winces. “Ow!
That hurt.” He rubs his arm. “So, he is probably part of the caravan… an advisor or something. You and your suspicious nature.” Suddenly, the dinner bell chimes. Adama sighs in relief. “Finally.” The king and queen sit at the head
of the table, with the sultan and his wife seated beside Queen Shakina. Next to the sultan’s wife stands her handmaiden, eager for instructions. The sultan’s advisor—the sharply dressed man Amara had previously seen near her pearls—lingers
behind the sultan. Servers circulate gracefully, pouring drinks, including grape juice for Amara and Adama, their favorite. Amara punches Adama on his other shoulder and says, “You were right. He must be an advisor or something…
but he sure looks suspicious.” Adama rubs his other shoulder. “Why do you have to punch me every time you need to tell me something?” Amara shoots back, “Stop being a wuss. This is serious business. I would not want anybody to get
hurt.” Adama grumbles under his breath. “If anybody is getting hurt, it is me. I am dying here.” Amara notices the advisor whispering to the handmaiden, then glancing toward Adama. Suddenly, she feels something furry brush against
her leg beneath the table. She quickly lifts the silk tablecloth—revealing Momina hidden underneath. Amara, slightly shocked but pleased, glances around to make sure no one is watching. When the coast is clear, she slips the top
half of her body beneath the table while still seated in her chair. “How did you get here without anyone noticing?” Amara whispers. “The coachman is not there,” Momina replies, blinking. “I communicated with the horses in the courtyard.
They are waiting for their owners to arrive so they can make a quick getaway.” “Someone has plans to leave early,” Amara murmurs. “Okay, Momina—make sure that carriage does not leave the courtyard until I can check it out.”
Chapter 4
Momina‘s gauntlet: Momina blinks her eyes and nods, then looks back under the table the way she came—except now all the guests have been seated. Getting in had been easy… getting out was something else entirely. She cautiously moves beneath the table through an active gauntlet of legs, sliding back and forth and narrowly avoiding drawing attention from the guests—especially Amara’s aunt, who continues kicking her feet back and forth while loudly laughing jubilantly. To avoid another incident, Momina dances around the swinging feet like a mongoose fighting a snake. With a breath of relief, she finally reaches the end of the table, where she spots the kitchen door—her exit. Perfectly timed, she slips behind the door as the staff continues to pass through. She moves swiftly, slipping around it just after a group of workers passes, never interrupting the door’s swing. Inside the kitchen, activity ramps up as dinner is prepared for service. The staff now moves with urgency, and the flurry of motion fills every corner of the space. Momina darts from one hiding spot to another—behind prep tables, stacked pots, and glass racks—cutting across corners as workers rush past. Exhausted, she finally reaches the courtyard where Secil waits, looking agitated. “What took you so long?” Secil asks sharply. “I could have been seen out here. You know I’m a wanted fox.” Physically drained from her secret dash through the kitchen, Momina surveys the silent courtyard—empty except for a few mice cautiously crossing the cobblestone path. She collapses in front of Secil, ignoring his dramatic complaint. Secil presses on immediately. “Now is not the time to rest.” His long ears perk straight up in anticipation. “So where’s the plate of food?
Chapter 5
Horse hair announcement: Moments later, the sound of metal tapping against glass fills the banquet room. It is the sultan, commanding everyone’s attention as he prepares to make an announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, today marks a historic milestone for our two kingdoms. We have proudly signed a new treaty with the vibrant city of Nuramba and the benevolent King Elias. With the help of my trusted administrator standing behind me—Thorn, who is well known among us— has negotiated a fair and equitable agreement.” Thorn bows his head in acknowledgment. The sultan continues, “This agreement will foster new trade routes and open passage between our nations, paving the way for shared prosperity for years to come.” King Elias and Queen Shakina clap gracefully. Elias leans over and whispers into Shakina’s ear, “Do you smell that?” She continues to face forward, smiling at the guests, and replies softly, speaking from the corner of her mouth, “What smell?” Elias leans back in again. “Every time he talks, it smells like horse hair.” Shakina quickly turns and gives him a sharp look. “Stop being suspicious like your daughter. Not everything is a conspiracy.” King Elias sighs and backs down. “You are right, my love… you are right.” Then he speaks even lower, “But you have to admit his beard with the bead at the end looks a little odd.” Just then, the sultan raises his hand and signals to the servant standing by the kitchen door. The door swings open, revealing a server carrying a Silver tray with a small, uniquely crafted golden box resting atop it. He steps to his left, lifting the box off the tray. “With the signing of this treaty, I am privileged to present a gift of peace to Queen Shakina in appreciation of her hospitality, and her willingness to establish small medical facilities under her supervision for the less fortunate in our country.” Excitement buzzes through the room. As the sultan slowly opens the elegant box, a blue light radiates outward, sparkling like a rising sunrise. Everyone is instantly mesmerized. “Here, my lady,” the sultan declares, “the rarest of gems—the Star of Aries…the legendary Blue Diamond.” All the guests rise to their feet, erupting into applause that echoes through the grand hall. With a proud smile, the sultan gently places the intricately designed golden box before Queen Shakina. The gem sparkles brilliantly in her eyes. Overcome with excitement and wonder, she reaches down to lift the diamond from the box.
Chapter 6
One size too small: Just then, the three double glass balcony doors suddenly burst open, sending a violent rush of wind into the chamber. The lights flicker wildly before plunging the room into complete darkness. Amid the chaos,
Amara’s Crystal emits a gentle, otherworldly glow. It radiates just enough light for her to catch a glimpse of a shimmering spark—reddish in color—zipping past her through the gloom. In an instant, the lights flare back to life as
the staff hurriedly relight the oil lamps and candles, then rush to close the balcony doors that have blown open, revealing a scene that seems unchanged… Then a piercing scream splits the air. It is the sultan’s wife, her face twisted
in alarm. “The diamond—the diamond is missing!” King Elias rises at once and commands the guards to seal the doors and thoroughly search the room. “No one leaves until the diamond is found. Someone here has it. I hate to say it,
but everyone is a suspect.” A heavy silence settles over the room as guests exchange tense, uncertain glances. Their eyes dart across the table and around the chamber, desperately searching for anything that might clear their names.
Then a voice cries out, “Look! I see it! It’s in a glass of wine!” All eyes fix on the glass in front of Adama. Adama innocently giggles. “That’s not a glass of wine—that’s my grape juice.” Floating on top of Adama’s glass, partially
invisible, is the diamond. The room turns toward him at once. Thorn, the sultan’s advisor, points an accusing finger. “The boy stole it! Seize him!” Adama jumps to his feet. “Hey! Wait a minute!” The guards grab him by the arms.
“I didn’t do it! I never moved from this spot! I protest!” Thorn narrows his eyes at him. “You can protest all you want… after we have your head.” Adama gulps. Amara, stunned by the accusation, feels a rush of instinct—as if something
inside her switches on. She scans the room, studying every guest, reading their expressions, searching for anything unusual that might reveal the plot behind the theft. She feels responsible for getting Adama into this mess, and
now she must prove his innocence. Her sharpened senses quickly notice the sultan’s wife’s handmaiden, repeatedly glancing toward the kitchen doors, tension flickering in her posture. Then Amara spots the final piece of the puzzle.
With quiet certainty, she whispers to herself, “There it is… right in front of everybody. It’s undeniable.” At that same moment, a flash of insight strikes Adama. He remembers something from science class about water, air, and glass.
With sudden force, he jerks free from the guard, snatches the diamond from the juice glass, and, wincing at the pain in his toes, he pulls off his shoe. He sets the diamond on the table. Then, with dramatic force, he slams his shoe
down on it. Pop! The diamond bursts like a balloon, shattering into a thousand glittering pieces that scatter across the table, directly before the King and Sultan. A diplomat gasps. “It’s fake! It’s made of glass!” Adama beams confidently.
Adjusting his glasses,he stands tall. “A real diamond would sink. Due to its shield of auto-tropic nature and its unknown properties of microbiotic composition according to its dimensional width and length, I could only summarize
that my calculations using these size proportions are correct in my assumption. It has to do with the ratio of air and solid material, allowing the methodology concurrent balance to be less than the sum of its solid parts. What’s
the obvious observation of its ability to float in my grape juice?” He raises a finger dramatically. There is only one possible conclusion… it’s made of glass, and filled with air!” The room falls completely silent. Every face looks
slightly perplexed, confused, and utterly dumbfounded, but no one can deny his logic. Adama proudly adds, “It just so happens I’ve been working on a thesis about this very subject in science class.” As the chaos swirls around her,
Amara stays laser-focused on the sultan’s ambassador and the Queen’s handmaiden, both now pale with panic. King Elias’s voice rings out. “The boy is innocent.” Then, in a lower tone, he adds, “…a little weird, but innocent. The diamond
must still be in this room—unless, it was a forgery from the start.”
Chapter 7
Caught in the Crosshairs: The sultan rises abruptly, unease etched across his face. “How dare you accuse me of presenting a fake diamond, King Elias! I assure you—it is genuine!” he retorts. Elias fires back, “I do not mean to be
accusatory, but if the shoe fits.” Adama lifts one of his shoes and says, “Not this shoe. It is far too tight.” The sultan straightens himself and replies in a dignified tone, “Well! If you think I am such a fraudster, why don’t
we simply tear up this treaty?” King Elias, now heated, pushes to his feet. “If you are passing around fake diamonds, what else is fake? Perhaps your beard?” He glances at Shakina, then fixes his eyes on the sultan’s beard. Queen
Shakina pleads urgently, “Oh no, Elias… don’t do it.” In a burst of anger, Elias lunges forward, grabs the sultan’s long beard with the bead tied at the end, and yanks it clean from his chin. The sultan recoils in shock, touching
the place where his beard has just been removed. Elias stares at the hairy strands with the bead dangling from them, reluctantly sniffs it, and says, “I knew it. This is horse hair.” The sultan’s wife leaps to her feet and, in a
fit of anguish, promptly faints, collapsing across the table as her colorful headdress pops free and rolls dramatically down the center of the banquet table. The entire banquet hall gasps. The sultan, covering his bare chin and mouth
with one hand, cries out in a slightly muffled voice, “Now look what you have done—you have killed my wife!” Queen Shakina immediately rushes to her side, takes water from a nearby glass, pours it onto her kerchief, and gently dabs
the woman’s forehead. As the sultan’s wife begins to regain consciousness, her hair hangs wildly over her face, forming a strange and rather alarming shape around her head. Queen Shakina tries to help her sit upright. Elias notices
the bizarre silhouette of her hair and remarks sarcastically, “How can she be hurt? She has a head like a rhinoceros.” The sultan’s anger flares anew. “How dare you compare my wife’s head to a rhinoceros!” Adama adjusts his glasses,
studies the wife’s hairy predicament, makes a quick calculation, and quietly remarks, “Well… if the shoe fits.” Consumed entirely by his fury toward King Elias, the sultan ignores everything around him—including his wife. In a burst
of rage, he slams his fist onto the table. The table jolts violently just as Queen Shakina is helping his wife up. The impact lifts her upward, only for her to come crashing down again, her head striking the table as her eyes roll
back, knocking her unconscious once more. Queen Shakina covers her mouth in distress and murmurs, “Oh my…” The sultan declares, “This means war!” Just as the banquet room and all its guests are on the verge of erupting into chaotic
frenzy, Amara leaps onto the table, her Crystal blazing brilliantly around her neck. “No need to worry, Father—and your Sultaness” she boldly declares. “I know exactly what happened!”
Chapter 8
The eyes of the Dragons: All eyes lock onto Amara. She takes a deep breath, then speaks at lightning speed. “I saw a flicker in the darkness when the lights went out—the same flicker I noticed earlier today from a brooch with ruby-red
eyes, set in gold and shaped like twin dragons. The very same brooch currently worn by Ambassador Thorn!” She exhausts every bit of air in her lungs. Pointing directly at the two-headed dragon brooch fastening Thorn’s cape, she stands
firm. The sultan, now bare-chinned, and the king, still clutching the coarse hairy strands with the bead at the end, both remain stunned and silent. Amara takes another deep breath and launches into her rapid-fire declaration. “With
the help of his accomplices—the handmaiden and their coachman! The coachman slipped into the banquet room before dinner began and unlatched the balcony doors. Then, at the exact moment the sultan presented the diamond to my mother,
ensuring all eyes were on the presentation. He pushed them open from the outside. The wind rushed in, extinguishing the lights! If you check the handmaiden’s purse, you will find the diamond neatly tucked away, wrapped in the table
napkin now missing from her place setting. If you observe the table carefully, you’ll see everyone else’s napkins are still in place, because dinner has not yet been served.” The king, the sultan, and the rest of the guests, glance
before them and see their own napkins untouched. Then their eyes turn toward the handmaiden, whose place setting is the only one missing a napkin. Amara confidently continues: “And when the lights conveniently went out, Ambassador
Thorn dropped the fake diamond into Adama’s grape juice glass while SHE,” pointing directly at the handmaiden. “snatched the genuine one from the box. Now you see, how they intended for Adama to take the blame so they could slip
away with the real treasure. But if by some mishap something went wrong… they had a Plan B.” Thorn glares at Amara, then leaps to his feet with a venomous hiss. The sultan, bewildered, blurts out, “Why, Thorn? Why are you doing this?”
Like a snake spitting venom. Thorn reply’s, “I have had enough of living in your shadow—always taking orders, always cleaning up your disasters after you make a mess of everything. I negotiate every deal, yet you reap every reward.
All I receive is a pat on the back and a hollow ‘good job.’ I made you rich. You are nothing but a fool dressed in a clown’s outfit. It has always been me… and now it is my time. I will use the Blue Diamond of Aries to build my empire,
raise my own army, and conquer you all! If those annoying smart kids would have not interfered, I would have gotten away with this. Nevertheless, now you know, we’ll just have to turn to Plan B. Elias urgently demands, “ Amara, what
is this Plan B?!” With a sinister smile, Thorn firmly shouts, “Your Highness. THIS IS PLAN B!!” He reaches into a hidden pocket inside his cape and produces a circular-shaped blade. In one swift motion, he grabs Amara’s aunt, who
had the misfortune of sitting beside him, jerks her from her chair, and presses the blade against her throat. The guards lunge forward, drawing their swords. “Nobody moves, or the old bitty gets it!” he snarls. “You guards—back against
the wall!” At that very moment, the sultan’s wife regains consciousness. Seeing everyone staring in one direction, she turns to look—and finds Thorn holding a blade to Amara’s aunt’s throat. In sheer shock, her eyes roll back once
more, and she collapses face-first onto the table again. The guards slowly retreat, swords still in hand. Thorn motions for the handmaiden to get behind him. Backing toward the kitchen doors, “Next time you all see me, you’ll be
groveling at my feet, begging for mercy.” Thorn lets out a triumphant laugh. Then, without warning, he hurls Amara’s aunt at Elias. She flops into his arms, unconscious from sheer terror, knocking him backward and sending him sprawling
flat onto the floor—with Amara’s aunt landing squarely on top of him yet again. Seizing the moment, the two culprits dash through the kitchen doors. Queen Shakina immediately kneels beside Elias in alarm. “Are you all right?” she
asks. Elias, struggling calmly beneath Shakina’s aunt’s weight pressing him down, mutters, “Why does every party have to end with your aunt lying on top of me?” Then he shouts: “Don’t let them escape! After them!!”
Chapter 9
The cart before the horse: Two guards spring into action, but the cunning pair already have a substantial lead. They race through the kitchen, knocking over pots and pans and pushing the kitchen staff out of their way. Bursting into
the courtyard, they rush past Momina and Secil, who sit calmly beside the carriage. Secil yawns and rubs his ears while Momina, seated on her hind legs, quietly observes the commotion. Frantically, the handmaiden and Ambassador Thorn
leap into the waiting carriage. Thorn shouts to the coachman, “Let’s go! Move it!” The coachman cracks his whip fiercely as the horses thunder into the darkness. Moments later, the guards burst into the courtyard, freezing in shock
before exchanging stunned glances and breaking into laughter. There, sitting before them, is a completely stationary carriage with the three culprits inside, arguing amongst themselves. Ambassador Thorn shouts at his coachman while
the handmaiden, irate, tugs furiously at Thorn’s clothing. The guards swiftly surround the motionless carriage. One guard taps his sword against the open coach window, announcing his presence. Like a candle being snuffed out, they
all immediately fall silent. The guard looks at Ambassador Thorn and the handmaiden. “If you please.” He opens the carriage door, steps back, and waves his sword ominously, beckoning them to exit the coach. Just then, another guard
leaps onto the driver’s seat and points his sword at the coachman, gesturing for him to climb down. The guard calmly, but firmly, says, “Please, Ambassador… could you and your friends put your hands behind your backs.” The other
guards swiftly tie their hands firmly and seat them upon an oversized crate by the kitchen door. The guard lowers his sword. “I think the king would like to have a word with you.”
Chapter 10
The apology: Soon after, King Elias and the sultan rush through the kitchen doors, emerging into the courtyard breathless but overjoyed at the scene before them. The three prisoners sit bound atop a wooden crate, completely deflated
and silent, surrounded by guards standing at attention. “Good work, men!” King Elias declares proudly. “You’ve caught them!” Then, with a sly smile, he adds, “So… you thought you’d get away with it.” Thorn sneers as he looks up.
“We would have.” He turns sharply toward the handmaiden. “I never instructed you to wrap it in the table napkin.” With her hair hanging wildly across her face, and her hands tied behind her back she annoyingly attempts to blow it
aside to respond. “You idiot! She yells at him. Then purposely talk like a little kid with a squeaky voice, “You said we could never get caught!” You said no way my plan is perfect, flawless, will be in and out. Nobody will know.”
Her voice turns back to her original tone. “Well I guess they all know now,DON’T THEY!” They continue to argue when suddenly the handmaiden unexpectedly kicks Thorn right in the shin. King Elias and the guards wince at the echoing
crack of the impact. Thorn yelps in pain. A guard comments dryly, “She’s got good aim. Hit him right in the sweet spot.” The king scans the courtyard and notices a motionless, horseless carriage bathed in faint light. Slightly puzzled,
he asks, “What happened here? Where are the horses?” “I don’t know, sire,” replies a guard. “The horses ran off, and the carriage remained behind. Here’s the handmaiden’s purse. I believe you’ll find what you’re looking for inside.”
The guard hands the purse to King Elias. Elias anxiously opens it while the sultan stands beside him, equally tense. He searches through the contents until he finally finds the napkin Amara had pointed out so clearly. At that moment,
Amara, Adama, and Queen Shakina rush into the courtyard from the kitchen. Elias gently unfolds the napkin—and immediately, his eyes sparkle with wonder at the mesmerizing Blue Diamond of Aries. The king and the sultan exchange glances
of deep relief. Elias carefully hands the diamond, still wrapped in the napkin, to the sultan. Queen Shakina looks warmly at the sultan and says, “Do not worry, Your Highness. The queen is fine—only shaken from all this excitement.”
Acknowledging her kindness, he replies, “Thank you. I truly appreciate your concern.” Queen Shakina nudges King Elias softly and whispers, “Go ahead.” Elias clears his throat and humbly says, “Sorry about that, Bartholomew”—the sultan’s
first name—“things became a little heated, and I apologize for wrongly accusing you of the diamond being fake.” The sultan, slightly embarrassed but gracious, responds, “I am sorry as well. I may have been short-tempered… and somewhat
naïve about my people.” He grimaces as he glances toward Thorn. “But if it were not for your inquisitive daughter and her clever friend, things could have turned out far worse.” Just as the sultan turns to confront the three culprits,
Elias reaches into his pocket and produces a cluster of the sultan’s beard, with a bead still dangling from the end. Awkwardly, he says, “Oh, Bartholomew… by the way. Here is your beard. I hope I did not damage it too badly.” The
sultan gives an uncomfortable half-smile. “You may toss it. I never cared for it much anyway. My wife and my staff thought it made me look more dignified.” He then steps toward the culprits, raising his voice as he begins to lecture,
his booming words echoing through the courtyard.
Chapter 11
The firefly: King Elias, still looking perplexed, demands, “That still does not answer the pressing question: can anyone tell me why there is a horseless carriage sitting in my courtyard?” Adama confidently steps forward, raising a finger into the air. “I will!” He reaches for one of the two lanterns hanging from a hook beside the kitchen doors. Enthusiastically, he bows toward King Elias. “With your permission, Your Highness.” King Elias nods, acknowledging both the lantern and Adama’s request to inspect the carriage. He swiftly descends upon the coach, moving like a firefly flickering through the night, examining every part—the wheels, the seats, the frame. Then, mysteriously, his light goes out as he disappears into the heart of the carriage. A heavy silence settles over the courtyard as several moments pass without any sign of Adama. Cautiously curious, the king and queen lean forward, peering into the seating area, trying to determine where he had vanished to… when suddenly, Adama pops up behind them with his lantern held high in the air, giving the royal pair a startling jolt. “Allow me to explain, Your Highness,” Adama says assertively. The king and queen, still startled, stand with their hands pressed over their hearts, catching their breath. Hesitantly say,“Okay… go ahead…go ahead.” Adama continues, “Look here.” He shines the lantern upon what he has discovered. “Something has chewed through these carriage reins. If you examine them carefully, you will see teeth marks—clear evidence that an animal was involved. The jagged punctures in the leather reveal the imprint of a fang. Also, the metal pivot that holds the carriage to the horses’ assembly has been removed.” Adama holds up four broken leather straps and gestures toward the missing pivot, drawing everyone’s attention to his mysterious discovery. “If we all agree that these leather straps and that pivot connection are essential in controlling the horses’ forward motion, then the coachman, without realizing it, hurriedly grabbed the reins and snapped his whip, activating what he believed would be their unequivocal path to escape. At that point, the theory of inertia was immediately activated: an object in motion stays in motion, and an object at rest stays at rest.” “Thus, the obvious conclusion… the horses ran free, while the carriage remained stationary… making it easy for the guards to apprehend them.” Adama stands proudly, confident in his analysis, then adds, “Well, that is it in a nutshell.” King Elias turns to Queen Shakina and whispers, “According to our scientific friend’s long-winded explanation, it would have to be a rather large shell, more like a coconut?” King Elias straightens himself as he addresses Adama’s detailed explanation, trying not to insult the young man. “Well, I appreciate your analysis, and it makes a great deal of sense.” Then, attempting to share the awkward moment with Queen Shakina, he adds, “Do you not think so, my queen?” Queen Shakina nods quickly, still rather confused. “Oh yes, that was very enlightening. Thank you, Adama.” Adama eagerly smiles. “If you would like, I could draw you a diagram.” The king quickly replies, “No, that will not be necessary, Mr Adama… if it is acceptable that I call you that.” Adama, extremely flattered, says, “Yes, Your Highness, of course. … but if you wish, your Highness.” He looks down humbly and shuffles his bare feet. “You could simply call me Adama.”
Chapter 12
The dynamic duo: Amara exchanges a curious glance with Secil and Momina, then approaches them, kneeling to pet Momina as they share a quiet conversation. Standing once more, Amara declares, “I know who was responsible…” She hesitates,
not wishing to blatantly reveal to her parents that she can communicate with animals. She looks down at Momina, unsure whether she should say what she truly wants to say. Then, with firm resolve, Amara turns back to her mother and
father. “It was Momina and Secil who did it.” Secil tugs on Amara’s sleeve and says, “It was mostly me.” Momina whispers to Secil, “For once in your life, just be quiet!” Elias does a double take. “Who?!” Amara explains, “While the
coachman was turning off the lights, Momina and Secil chewed through the reins and somehow dislodged the pivot from its position, releasing the carriage. When the coachman finally returned and struck his whip, the horses took off,
leaving the carriage behind—foiling the culprits’ plan for a quick getaway and leading the guards right to them.” Elias, exhilarated, proclaims, “This has truly been a night to remember.” With heartfelt admiration, he speaks to Amara.
“Your extraordinary gifts never cease to amaze me. There was a time when your mother and I worried for your safety, fearing these gifts might be more of a curse than a blessing. Today, we see that no matter where your journey leads,
or what the gods have in store, we, as your family, will always stand by your side. But never forget—you are still the next queen, and you have a responsibility to your people.” Elias chuckles warmly. “And I still marvel at how you
communicate with these animals—somehow, they understand you, and you understand them.” Momina nudges Amara’s hand affectionately. Turning to Shakina, Elias asks, “What do you think, my queen? Should we give them another chance?”
Shakina gazes into Amara’s hopeful green eyes, Secil’s uncertain drooping ears, and Momina’s adorable face as they eagerly await her response. With a joyful sigh of relief, she declares, “Yes, my king, I think it is about time.”
Elias announces with enthusiasm, “Here is what I shall do—I shall make a proclamation. You are all invited to the party—and every celebration thereafter—except for these few rules: no sneaking into the kitchen, no eating anybody
else’s food, and no eating before dinner is served.” His tone grows stern, yet caring. “Amara, do I make myself clear?” Cross-eyed at Secil, she responds softly, “Yes, Daddy.” “As for your mother’s aunt, she shall simply have to
grow accustomed to Momina. Once she realizes she is harmless and well-tamed, she will come around.” Elias gently scratches Momina’s head as she purrs contentedly.
Chapter 13
The verdict: The king then kneels beside Secil, gazing into his doleful eyes. Secil swallows hard and closes his eyes, furrowing his brow as he expects the worst. “And as for you, my little mischievous friend… today, you are a hero!”
Secil cautiously opens one eye at a time, revealing the king’s smiling face. Secil looks up at Amara and asks in animal talk, “Did he say hero?” Amara nods with glee. Elias continues, “I shall have the kitchen make you your very
own personalized mango cake. But this time, you shall eat it outside. It took me a week to clean up your mess, and we would not want that to happen again, now would we?” Secil twists his ears together with joyful anticipation. Elias
looks at Amara with conviction. “I believe he understands.” Overcome with her father’s forgiveness, Amara throws herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely and knocking him off balance. “Oh, Daddy, I love you!” Queen Shakina radiates
with contentment. Momina joins in, licking Elias’s face affectionately.
Meanwhile, Secil licks his lips, dreaming of his upcoming trea …