<div class="floatleft">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v622/Jagwaar/Shazadi%201a_zpsql8ohgqw.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Shazadi<br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Jinn-Blooded Bedu<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Thirteen Monkeys Coffee House<br/><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Niwt (Day of Houses), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season), Mid-Morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Rashid, Open<br/><hr/><br/>“There’s nothing to forgive,” Shazadi insisted, shaking her head at the idea that he had somehow insulted her when he’d done no such thing. “I meant only to say that we all have adversaries. In this you are not alone.”<br/><br/>As he took her hand and rose to his feet in one fluid motion, pressing his lips to the back of her knuckles in the process without missing a beat, Shazadi smirked beneath the sheer fabric of her veil as Rashid continued his bold flirtation, growing more familiar as they began their short journey out of the coffeehouse and through the bazaar towards the Crimson Palace. “As I look forward to you washing it<em>for</em>me,” she replied as he settled into place at her side. Hands resting on the pommels of his swords, he cut quite a figure, moving with the easy confidence of a man born to the sword. In contrast, Shazadi moved with an easy sway of her hips and a natural grace born of years walking the shifting dunes. Unlike Rashid, her blades were hidden, but there nonetheless. Anyone seeking to make trouble with her would be in for a surprise. Shazadi was as as skilled with the throwing knives in her sash and the katars in her boots as any man in her tribe.<br/><br/>The sun had risen higher in the sky while they’d dallied in the coffeehouse and the day was growing warmer. Merchants were beginning to take their midday meals under the colorful canopies as they passed among the crowded aisles, in between the various classes of the city as they sought out the sellers’ wares. Moving closer to Rashid out of desire as much as necessity, Shazadi laced her arm through one of his and leaned against him as they walked, slowing their pace but allowing for more intimacy to continue their conversation. “I shall put my trust in you to make sure that every inch of me is clean,” she said, for his ears alone. In truth, the market was loud enough that her words didn’t carry much further. “And I promise to do the same for you, however long it takes.” Looking up at him out of the corner of her eye, she flashed him a knowing smile. “Tell me, is this your first visit to the Crimson Palace, or have you been a guest of the Lady Adja before?”<br/>