She studied me with a gaze alloyed of caution and a yearning to fathom some hidden depth I bore. I spoke so low it scarcely rose above breath:
"Majesty, I have come to pursue what al Haddad began, and to listen to cares the palace's cold colonnades cannot voice cares written instead upon the faces of stars and the secret grain of sand."
Khazabla stepped forward once more, inclining his head in reverence. "My liege," he said, "since the king's passing I have chased every thread of mystery day and night, and nowhere have I found my compass but in the first master Nimran who taught your father the meaning of power beneath the desert sun." I felt the counsellor's profound esteem and recalled in him the look of a pupil clinging to a single word from his teacher to guide his thought.
I gathered the vision shown me in omen and dream. "Daughter of al Haddad, one who rules Sheba and shepherds its scattered tribes must strike roots deep in ancestral soil you possess those roots in your blood. Yet you also need an artery that feeds your reign from the veins of heaven, from the sacred gods who aided king after king in the cause of justice and unity. The distant temple of Aww am is the house of the ancient secret; there blessing is won and royal right acknowledged. There your ship may cast anchor so that conspiracies cannot shake it."
Balqis seemed to recall a childhood legend of that temple sunk in solemn hush the old tablets say whoever enters it with a pure heart wins the gods' favor and secures the crown, yet only those ruled by adamant will dare its gate. She fixed me with steady eyes for a heartbeat, as though reading my features for truth, then descended from her throne with a dignity that drew wonder from the few present our trio and the Sun Bannered guards of the royal elite. Reaching me, she laid a gentle hand upon the hem of my cloak smelling of distant sands and said:
"If your intent is to guide me where my sun may burn the brighter, I will go. I need a light that can fend off the storms and set my steps firm upon the path of rule."
At that, Khazabla straightened and signaled the guards to clear the way. Awe and fervor mingled in his face as he murmured, "The Temple of Aww am how august! There lies the seat of true consecration. May you, my queen, draw thence a power that renders the throne proof against the chieftains' plots and whims." He turned his gaze back to me; in his eyes I saw a strange certainty the certainty of one who has found his answer, tempered by awe of the place we would seek.
Silence settled long; the wind through the wide windows became the palace's sole hymn. A reverence unlike any I had known reigned, and the toil of my long road fell away. In Balqis's eyes I saw a flare like al Haddad's when he resolved upon grave purpose. Perhaps this moment marked the true dawn of her reign the moment she gained the courage to meet the temple's mysteries, unafraid of tribal power or the daggers of shadow.
While her gaze rested upon the palace gate, I tapped Khazabla shoulder. "Counsellor, walk beside your sovereign and lead her to the temple that calls her. Let the spirits soaring over Sheba witness her new birth beneath an unfading sun." I heard his breath quicken; he feared nothing save failure before Balqis crossed the sacred threshold.
Moments later I withdrew, leaving behind a hush profound as a sanctuary. I felt their hearts beating al Haddad's blood alive in his daughter commingling hope for an unseen future with awe of the holiness drawing near. Perhaps, once aww am blazes with her sun, not one doubter will dare question the queen's right, and night itself will find no foothold for its shadows.
As for me, Nimran, I returned to my silence and the fellowship of the stars, content that I had planted a new seed in the soil of rule, awaiting its bloom when Balqis stands at the gods' threshold and inscribes new lines in a saga long withheld.