Act 3, Scene 2 - The Blue Gold
Mahin woke up early in the morning inside her spacious chamber.
The comfort of her bed, stuffed with the finest Kashmiri wool, made it feel like she was lying on a cloud.
It was a luxury reserved only for the affluent in Persepolis, and she made sure to enjoy it, stretched out like a cat in the sunrise.
The morning light filtered gently through the window, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.
It highlighted her long, dark hair, which cascaded like a waterfall of obsidian down her back.
She smiled to herself, stretching as she steadied her body, glancing at the vibrant city outside her window.
The view from her chamber was spectacular.
Persepolis, the heart of the Persian empire, was already wide awake, its pulse quickening as the city bustled with activity.
The streets were alive with people, each one engrossed in their daily tasks, hustling and striving to make a living.
The vibrant hum of voices and footsteps filled the air as carts were wheeled through the marketplace.
Merchants loudly offering their wares, and children running through the narrow streets, their laughter floating in the morning breeze.
Today, she would meet Darius to work on a prototype for her lapis lazuli jewelry.
The thought made her heart flutter—she was actually excited to see him.
He remained still so mysterious, so intriguing!
She had effortlessly dismissed Arash’s recent invitation; he would have to work harder, be more creative and imaginative if he wanted to capture her interest.
Arash could be a good boy and wait.
- Hm, What would she wear today?
Another blue gown, perhaps?
She couldn’t help herself; she adored blue.
It was like the sky—clear and commanding—or like the water, intense and mysterious.
In the residence of Niyaz Korshidian, Arash paced his chamber, his fists clenching with each step.
His breath came in sharp bursts as the sting of rejection gnawed at him. “She refused me!” he spat, his voice trembling with rage.
“How could she?” His pacing quickened, his frustration mounting until he could hold it no longer.
“Father!” he shouted, the sound echoing off the marble walls.
Niyaz appeared, his expression calm and watchful.
He let Arash’s anger fill the space before speaking, his voice steady. “Calm yourself, Arash.”
“She’s humiliating me!” Arash’s voice cracked with fury. “What should I do?”
The Korshidian wealth was immense, a proof of Niyaz’s relentless efforts to reach his status.
The walls were smooth and off-white, adorned with marble statues.
Lavish gold and geometric details filled the ceiling and lined the cornices.
Niyaz placed a calming hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Patience, my son. Did you think getting the attention of a high-maintenance and quality woman like Mahin would be easy?”
He chuckled at his son’s foolishness. “You are still young and have much to learn.”
“First of all, control that temper of yours. Restrain yourself! If you want her attention, do something grand.”
“Mahin is not some prize you can brag about to your petty soldier friends and noble sons. You must win her heart and beat the game.” He winked at his son and clapped him on the back with enough force to make Arash cough.
“There, there. I don’t need to spell everything out for you now do I?.”
Arash stilled, his breathing slowing as his father Niyaz’s words sank in.
Niyaz gave him a small, knowing smile. “Plan something grand my son. Impress the woman, will you?”
Niyaz left his son stranded in the corridor as he hurried off to tend to more pressing matters—his business empire awaited, just as Sayid tended to the Zarrin Qal’eh clan he led.
Lapis lazuli, the blue gold. Darius smiled. It was so fitting for Mahin—he just knew it was meant to be.
As he completed his early morning duties, a mysterious smile played on his lips, one that only he understood.
Ramin, who had recruited Darius and now served as Sayid’s right-hand man, was a keen observer—nothing escaped his attention.
“Darius, what mischief are you up to?” Ramin demanded, his voice sharp.
“What’s so amusing?”
Darius’s eyes glinted with something unspoken. “I’m making mental notes,” he replied, the edge of his smile deepening.
“I promised Mahin we’d go jewelry shopping.”
Ramin’s brow furrowed, his suspicion rising. “Really?” He raised an eyebrow.
“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, watch yourself. If you’ve got ulterior motives toward Mahin, you’re no different than the others. Every soldier here has had them.”
He smacked Darius at the back of his head, ”Bury them fast—before you end up six feet under. Sayid leaves no names on tombstones for grieving families, you know.”
Darius met his gaze, unflinching and unfazed. “I’m not who you think I am, Ramin,” he said steadily, but with steel in his voice.
“I’ll keep trying until Sayid accepts me. Don’t mistake me for those fools. I won’t sneak around, but Sayid can’t know my intentions yet. It’s something I need to earn.”
Ramin’s eyes studied him for a moment, noting the fire in Darius’s tone.
“I recognize that fiery determination,” Ramin admitted, his voice a little less harsh.
“But be careful. I won’t take responsibility if you’re killed. You’ve been warned.”
Darius chuckled softly, a note of confidence in his laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Ramin. I’m not an idiot like them. I’ll earn my place, in my own way.”
Ramin muttered under his breath, a resigned bitterness to his words. “You better,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of something more.
He had begun to feel a quiet fondness for Darius—a hardworking, disciplined soldier with honor and dignity.
It would be a shame to see it all crumble over a reckless obsession.
But deep down, Ramin feared that wasn’t all it was.
It would be a waste to see it all vanish over a foolish crush.
Darius left without a word; he had plans to make with Admiral Bahram.
He couldn’t just waltz around Persepolis with Mahin and her attending maidens in tow without proper precautions.
He also needed to see Master Parviz. Everything had to be perfect. It was all for her.
Mahin—the treasure is you!
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