The scorching heat of the Talrakian sun made the stone cliff walls radiate steam. However, the air inside the palace study located deep within the mountain felt cool and smelled of ink. Rasyid let out a long sigh while staring at the piles of parchment scrolls that seemed to increase every time he blinked.

  In this land, Rasyid was the right hand, an advisor, as well as the administrative shield for the king. Today he felt more like an exhausted clerk.

  "If he thinks I prefer smelling ink over desert dust, then that Lion has truly started to go crazy," Rasyid grumbled softly. His dark hands moved skillfully to place the official stamp on a silk trade permit.

  Nashr was not the type of ruler who could sit comfortably on a plush chair while listening to the complaints of bureaucrats. That man preferred to conduct inspections of nearby towns and villages to see their conditions firsthand. Sometimes he disguised himself in local clothes to mingle in the market or monitor the movement of the sand. As a result, the entire administrative burden fell onto Rasyid’s shoulders.

  The stone door slid open with a soft creaking sound. Elam entered carrying several of the latest water canal maps. The scientist from Asjad stopped for a moment while looking at Rasyid who appeared to be drowning behind the large desk.

  "Still not back from the lower district?" Elam asked while placing the maps down carefully. His navy blue robes stood out against the brownish stone interior.

  "What do you think?" Rasyid answered without raising his head. "He is busy being a commoner while I am here busy being the king who manages taxes. It is quite a fair division of labor, is it not?"

  Elam chuckled softly. He had only dedicated himself to Talrakia for a year, but the dynamics between the king and his right hand always entertained him.

  Rasyid looked up. "What did you bring? More water issues?"

  "Just a small detail about the expansion of the underground gardens," Elam said as he sat in the wooden chair in front of Rasyid’s desk. He went quiet for a moment while his eyes fixed on a lion relief on the wall. "May I ask something? As someone who has known him since he was a teenager, what is King Nashr really like in your eyes?"

  Rasyid stopped the movement of his pen. He leaned back and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Do you want to know about the King of Talrakia, the Desert Lion, or the Sun King?"

  "Everything," Elam answered sincerely. "The 'Sun King' is a spiritual title, right? A golden light that is said to be passed down from the bloodline of the late King Khalid."

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Rasyid gave a short snort. "About the lion power and that golden light, I do not really care to be honest. To me, it is just a tool. If that light can drive away the dead lands and protect the city, then that is good. If it can strike down enemies on the battlefield, then that is even better. I have too many logistics bills to admire spiritual miracles."

  Elam spoke with a slightly pleading tone. "Come on, I am quite curious, Rasyid. Here, the palace staff tremble every time he enters a room. Yet he is the most caring leader I have ever met."

  He continued to ask, "Why is King Nashr so feared? He is different from his bad reputation in Asjad. Not every land can have a leader like that. Asjad... was not so lucky. That is why I decided to move."

  Rasyid leaned back while looking toward the window that showed the trade route in the distance. "The King did not build this place with magic, Elam. Five years ago, Talrakia was just a remote stone cliff village. He had a brain sharp enough to know the potential of the trade route from the strategic position of this village. Not only that, but he also got involved directly to set the strategy and ensure trade ran smoothly."

  Rasyid tapped the table with his finger. "He cares about the growth and welfare of his people directly. That is what turned this discarded place into the largest trade route in the desert."

  Elam’s eyes widened in surprise. "That’s kind of amazing."

  Rasyid paused for a moment then continued with a more serious tone. "However, he has moral standards that are... let us say, slightly different from most humans. He is very protective. Not a single creature under this sun is crazy enough to disturb what Nashr has built with such great effort."

  "What do you mean?"

  Rasyid leaned forward as his sharp eyes stared at Elam. "Having Nashr as an enemy is the fastest ticket to the afterlife. To him, the best solution for an ongoing problem is sometimes total elimination. That is why he looks like a demon king to his enemies."

  Elam swallowed hard. He remembered the way Nashr spoke with the farmers with such empathy and listening. The contrast was very sharp.

  "He is a bloodthirsty protector if necessary," Rasyid continued as a small wrinkle appeared on his forehead as if he himself shuddered remembering several events from the past. "He will not stop protecting what he has until his last drop of blood. Whether it is the sovereignty of Talrakia, the water supply of his land, or certain people."

  Elam went quiet while absorbing those words. His eyes shifted to the pile of trade reports Rasyid was working on. "So you would feel very safe under his protection, while you would beg for your life if you became his enemy?"

  "Exactly. And now that Desert Lion lets me do all this paperwork while he pretends to be a low official," Rasyid grabbed his pen again with a dramatic movement. "Sometimes I wonder if my three wives at home are harder to deal with than this one stubborn king."

  Elam gave a thin smile while rising from his chair. "At least you know he will always find a solution, Rasyid. Whether it is water, the economy, or enemies at the border."

  "Oh, he will find it," Rasyid muttered while returning to his writing. "And usually that solution involves me having to work overtime. Now go before I decide to give this administrative task to you."

  Elam laughed a little and bowed to say goodbye. As he walked out of the room, he realized one thing. Talrakia was a sturdy oasis not only because of its artificial water canals, but because there was a lion guarding its door. A lion that would not hesitate to tear apart anyone who tried to ruin the peace he had built with great effort from the desert dust.