MUSE: KAINAAT ANSARI
Date written: early 2022
Short summary: This is set in an alternate reality earth in the 1800s. The names of multiple different kingdoms, continents and countries have been changed to reflect that. This starter focuses on Kainaat Ansari, an adventurous princess who escapes her ancestral home for the first time with her body guard and personal friend, Himmat Mohal.
Kainaat’s breath catches in her throat at almost everything she takes in. Bandonese culture is absolutely enthralling, she thinks, as her eyes drink in the complex architecture and the stunning clothing worn by the most prosperous of aristocrats in the magnificent ballroom. Gatherings of the most affluent in society is not a foreign concept for her; having lived her entire life in a palace a hundred times grander than this charming room, Kainaat has grown quite accustomed to such ostentatious displays of wealth and opulence as a normal part of life.
Despite this, the Chatron finds that she often needs to collect her jaw off the polished floor. So many new and wonderful rarities for her to behold in this room alone— if she weren’t so awed by every little detail, from the type of alcohol being served to the style of makeup being worn, Kainaat would surely feel small and out of place here.
/That/ is a feeling she’s slowly familiarising herself with.
When Kainaat had been planning her escape from the high-walled prison that was her ancestral home, she had mentally prepared herself for the fish-out-of-water feeling; after all, she would be leaving all that was familiar and known, all that was /safe/— only to travel to a location that she’d only ever read about in her favourite lessons. Kainaat hadn’t so much as left her home city of Iravat. It was where she’d been born twenty six years prior, and most likely where she would die, unless she took matters into her own hands and broke free from the royal family’s ironclad hold on her.
Himmat Mohal, a stoic old ex-seaman and her closest royal advisor, had been the only one she’d trusted to help her get out. He had taken her aside before the journey to explain how different her life was about to be. Himmat had tactfully made Kainaat aware of the fact that she’d never left the safety of Khalsa Palace; she had no real exposure to new culture; many foreign practices would come as a shock to her. Kainaat had been adamant on pressing forward with the voyage anyway.
Clearly she’d underestimated /just/ how different everything would be.
When she had arrived at Bando’s shores posing as the daughter of a Chatran diplomat (Himmat Mohal had such excellent acting skills, who knew?), she couldn’t stop herself from gaping at all the brilliant new sights and sensations, much like the fish from the aforementioned fish-out-of-water idiom. The bustling port itself was filled with so many new things for her to explore that she spent the first six hours of her life as a runaway animatedly rushing from one loud vendor to the next, sampling the various items they had to offer.
Iravat isn’t close to the ocean at all, perhaps that’s why it’s the capital of the Chatra Empire— less risk of invasion from hostile enemies overseas. Unfortunately, it also means they don’t get to sample the kind of seafood delicacies denizens of coastal cities get to enjoy on a regular basis. The first time she had tried Yeoneojang at the port, and the flavours had burst to life on her unsuspecting taste buds, a dazed and overwhelmed Kainaat had wondered how she could ever go back to eating regular Chatran chicken dishes ever again. How she envied the Bandonese!
By the time the sun began to kiss the horizon and the ocean started to reflect the gorgeous orange-red canvas painting the sky, poor Himmat Mohal had started drowning under the various items of clothing she’d purchased. All the vendors had retired that evening with much heavier pockets (and Himmat Mohal had retired that night with severely sore arm muscles).
Kainaat could barely get herself to sleep that night; partly from the excitement of exploring the famous city of Cheonsang the next day, and partly from the dread of being found out. She had lived a remarkably sheltered life within the Iravat palace walls; Chatran tradition mandated that she remain hidden behind a veil until her wedding day. Kainaat’s unobscured face had never been seen by anyone who did not already live within close contact of the royal family, or men who were potential suitors, a fact that she would use to her advantage to extend her stay in Bando for as long as possible.
Of course, there was always the threat of the Chatran Council sending envoys to bring her back by force but they’d have to find her first. She had left a goodbye note in flawless Chatran script on the satin sheets of her bed but had never mentioned where she would be going, or with whom. While she shudders to think what would happen if she and Himmat were to be caught, Kainaat believes the risk is worth it.
