Chapter 3 Two

Leaning against one side of a wooden cart containing vegetables in the form of carrots, I closed my eyes while resting my body after working all day in the vegetable garden, which once belonged to my adoptive father, now belongs to the Bagyar sultanate. Luckily, because this garden had entered the harvest period, the palace needed workers to pick the harvest. Mirza and I were successfully selected as workers by the court to determine the yield, which meant that our stomach matters were safe and controlled.

The advantage of working under direct orders from the palace is that the wages you get are slightly higher than working for ordinary people, including nobles. However, it all comes back to each individual appreciating someone's sweat. From a distance, I saw Mirza approaching me with a man; it seemed like the man was also a worker, just like us. When they arrived near me, Mirza introduced us.

"Hi, I'm Maliq," said the man with a big smile and a sweet face. I was nervous when I shook his hand and said my name.

"I'm Maira, just call me Aira."

In Bagyar, handsome men are hard to find. I am grateful because a person's caste does not influence good looks and beauty in this city. God blesses people considered beautiful and handsome; their caste doesn't matter. You can imagine that if someone wants to be said to be lovely, they must be in the highest caste first; how unfair that is, even if they are gorgeous from birth, no one will admit that. And Maliq is one of the most handsome men I have ever met in this city.

"Are you a worker too?" I asked to confirm my assumption; he nodded with that big, sweet smile. I'm very innocent, but I blush easily with men who have handsome faces with a smile that can shake my heart. One more thing: I don't know what and how it feels to fall in love. So far, my life has only been filled with thinking about what tomorrow will be like, what work to do, where to find that job, and things related to making a living. I don't have time to think about love. I've never attached my heart to a man, not that I don't want to, but more because it's unimportant. If my life were still like before, there would be time for that; perhaps I would even have an arranged marriage by now, or I would be in a relationship with a man and soon get married.

I don't know; matters of the heart became something I forgot after my life changed. Besides, who would like a seedy homeless woman like me? Even though, according to some people who have known and interacted with me, my face is not ugly, they say I am beautiful if only I take care of myself. My brown skin is now slightly tanned due to sunburn and unkempt maintenance; my eyes are equipped with curly and thick eyelashes and brown eyes shaded by eyebrows that are not too thick, full lips with a slightly sharp nose, a dimple will appear in my cheeks. My right cheek when I smile.

"Where do you live?" That question made me immediately look at Mirza for an answer.

"We're homeless," replied Mirza, which made me look down and smile shyly for a few seconds, then raised my face again to look at Maliq. At least, he must be from among the people above us.

"I never thought there would be beautiful tramps like you in this city," he said, immediately making Mirza and I laugh almost simultaneously. Honestly, the compliment affected me. I don't know the meaning of the words, whether he was praising or just wanting to be polite to us by not saying we were ugly, seedy bums, or he didn't believe we were bums.

"Hey, I'm serious, but are you guys homeless?" It seemed Maliq didn't believe we were homeless; I leaned my shoulder against the side of the wooden cart and folded my arms in front of my chest.

"Yes, we are homeless, very lucky to be chosen as palace workers for the next few days, otherwise, right now we would still be busy roaming the streets looking for work to eat," I said while looking at the man with an appraising look. He put both hands in his trouser pockets, then said, "I'm also not someone who can be called rich, just the son of a man who owns a cattle farm and sells milk. I usually sell milk at the market." Maliq smiled faintly.

"At least you're lucky to have parents and a decent life still, even though you're not rich, unlike us." Mirza said, then I asked Maliq, "Why are you joining as a worker?" He should no longer be a worker; his job is selling milk at the market, and his parents owning a cattle farm is enough to make a living.

"You guys think I'm that rich? My father's farm is not big; we only have three dairy cows, and not all the milk is sold daily. I have a younger sister who has to finish school, and while we only depend on selling milk, our cows didn't give birth this year even though we have been waiting for that." Maliq told about his family; he and his father would work odd jobs after selling milk at the market, which only lasted until midday, the rest of the time doing other work. I listen attentively; listening to other people's life stories makes me learn a lot. Hardships and joys will come to everyone, no matter where they come from and which caste they are currently in. Everyone has problems in life, and life's perfection comes from their attitude. -each person in living and interpreting it.

"Several times people from the palace bought the milk I was selling and I was asked to deliver it there," he said, which made me immediately ask about the atmosphere of the palace.

"What does the sultan's palace look like from the inside?"

In my entire life, I have never entered a palace, let alone inside; I have never even entered through the gate. The wall fence is yellowish quartzite stone with a two-leaf entrance made of intricately carved gold-plated iron; two guards are always loyal on the right and left sides. I was never invited to the palace when my adoptive father was still alive. My adoptive father was a wealthy merchant who owned a vegetable and fruit plantation. My father is trusted to supply fruit and vegetables to the palace until now. I don't know what happened, so my adoptive father's garden became the palace's property.

Maliq looked away before answering my question, but Mirza said he lacked clear information about the Sultan's palace, which he often said when we told other people about the Sultan's palace.

"They say the sultan's palace had a milk pool."

My eyes immediately rolled when I heard this come out of Mirza's mouth; people always exaggerate about the state of the Sultan's palace. It makes me not fully believe what people say unless that person goes in there and tells what he saw. Still, it's hard to believe everyone who ever talks about the Sultan's palace. However, Maliq is one of the people who can be trusted when he tells stories about the Sultan's palace. Maliq laughed lightly at Mirza's hyperbolic information. Is it the Sultan, the wasteful person? There was a feeling of dislike if it was confirmed that the Sultan had a milk pool. The Sultan had a milk pool, while many of his people were malnourished.

"No, that's not true; the Sultan was not as arrogant as the Pharaoh; the palace had a beautiful and huge garden. When I sat on one side of the garden waiting for the jug of milk to be returned to the cart, I felt like I was sitting in the garden of heaven, beautiful, "fresh and calming, maybe heaven is much more beautiful than that garden, but it is the most beautiful garden I have ever visited and seen," he explained, which made me immediately fantasize and hope, hopefully one day I can see that garden and sit and enjoy its beauty, even if only for a moment.

"Hey, you guys! Come here! Time for lunch, then continue working!" shouted the supervisor, who was watching us work from a radius that was not far enough from our current position.

"I brought milk from home. I hope you don't mind if we drink it together," Maliq said on our way to where the workers gathered for lunch. Mirza and I laughed lightly; I didn't expect this man to be so friendly to people like us. Judging from our appearance, we can be sure that we are among those who have been forgotten and even seem thrown away. Only a handful of people cared and wanted to interact with us. Still, Mirza and I were used to that kind of treatment, the risk of becoming lower-class people and enduring all the judgment from people.

"Of course, we are willing to finish the provisions you brought; when else can we drink milk for free," said Mirza, which made Maliq and I laugh almost simultaneously.

"But, I want to meet the sultan in person, when I was delivering milk I only spoke to the head servant of the palace kitchen, I think people who have met the sultan in person are lucky," said Maliq, who still felt at home chatting, turning slightly to towards Mirza, I smiled with closed lips in response to his words.

The memory of that night that had passed a week came to mind. The incident happened when Mirza and I helped the Sultan, who had a stab wound on his left side. That night became one of the nights I will never forget for the rest of my life because my first kiss occurred with a man I never expected to appear in front of me.