Two weeks. Amir had spent nearly two weeks hold up in his room doing his best to sort out his thoughts. Egypt’s relationship with England hadn’t always been the best, but with his love for the country he’d been working to change the perspectives of his countrymen. Now, it seems, from what he’d heard that England was looking to raise tariffs as well as take their trade elsewhere. He’d also heard Egypt was coming out with a lot of anti-western propaganda and talks for cutting England off entirely. The big question was, which items were the cart and which were the horse and which were a carry-over from a global game of telephone?
Deciding to take a break from it all he headed to the gardens, dawning a hoodie in hopes of not being recognized and stopped in the hall for a conversation about the increasing political strain. Hearing a voice though as he was walking, he couldn’t help but look back, assuming the person had been talking to him. It was a short conversation with a maid, thankful she was only asking if it would be an acceptable time to clean his room. He was off again in less than a minute, pulling his hood back on as he spun around, only to notice another person in the hall. “Afternoon,” he greeted, hoping the conversation wouldn’t go much past that.