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Amastan crouched nearby, sharpening his dagger.
“Words are wind without steel to guard them,” he muttered.
Anna smiled faintly, feeling the boy stir against her chest.
> Perhaps it is not words or blades alone that shape empires… but children sleeping beneath the sky, dreaming of peace.
Under the acacia trees, Anna sat cross-legged, Azul sleeping on her lap, as Elias traced lines upon the sand with a stick.
“These routes are lifelines,” he said softly. “Control them, and you control destiny.”
Days turned into weeks as Elias, the Andalusian scholar, taught Anna and Amastan the intricacies of Ottoman politics, European diplomacy, and desert trade networks.
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