No Cause for Alarm

This story is by Evelyn Puerto and won an honorable mention in our 2025 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.

Cengiz’s father had no idea his son was dead.

Naqisha hadn’t meant to kill the heir to the throne. But when Cengiz mocked her son Utku as less capable of coherent thought than a donkey, something inside her snapped. Before she realized it, she’d grabbed Cengiz’s dagger and thrust it into his heart.

An hour later, she fixed a smile on her face and joined Emperor Vural and two relatives for dinner. Hoping the emperor was oblivious that his son lay dead.

She sipped her blood-red wine, while the light conversation of the others and the fountains’ soft trickle wafted over her. The leaves of the courtyard’s laurel trees and oleander bushes hung motionless, like the stillness before a storm. Sweat dampened her brow. Even her flowing silk tunic felt hot.

The emperor frowned. “Where is Cengiz?”

Naqisha shrugged and busied herself by tearing a piece of bread from a flat loaf. She dipped it in yogurt sauce, proud she managed to still her shaking fingers.

Cengiz’s younger brother spoke first. “Maybe working in his study?”

Curse the brat. Naqisha had hoped no one would find Cengiz’s body until much later.

Hashem snorted. “Working?” He leered, his eyes glinting. “I wonder which girl he’s working with.”

You would think that, you lech. Naqisha had never liked Hashem, widower of one of the emperor’s cousins. He had a son he thought would make a fine emperor. Too bad for him, the emperor had two sons and a daughter, and after that came Naqisha’s Utku.

The emperor pointed at a servant. “Find my heir.”

A whiff of grilled chicken made Naqisha’s stomach turn over. Cengiz is as dead as a bird on a spit. “I’m sure he’s lost track of time. No cause for alarm.” She swallowed the sourness in her mouth and picked up a fig. Time to change the subject.

“Hashem,” Naqisha began, “will you attend the circus tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He smirked. “Care to bet on the chariot race?”

“Two gold coins say my team will trounce yours.”

The emperor stabbed a piece of grilled beef with a jeweled knife. “While you two gamble, we’ve got other problems.”

“Oh?” Naqisha asked. Please, not a dead son.

“Barbarians attacked our northern border.” He cursed. “My generals have the courage of cucumbers.”

“Father, send me,” Kumaz said. “I’ll smash the invaders.”

The emperor nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe next year.”

“But—”

“Those savages invade every spring. You’ll have your chance.”

“Perhaps send Hashem’s son?” Naqisha said. May the barbarians end him quickly.

Her breath hitched. Since when have I been so bloodthirsty?

“The one to go is that tardy son of mine,” Vural said. “Where is he?”

Naqisha hid her trembling hands in her lap. Stay calm. She pulled in a deep, slow breath. They have no reason to suspect me. She took a bite of bread, thoughts whirling as she chewed. Who should I accuse of the murder?

Running footsteps seized Naqisha’s attention. She forced a bland expression onto her face while her heart beat a frenzied cadence. What if someone saw me leave Cengiz’s rooms?

Two guards stumbled across the courtyard and fell to their knees. “Highness, Excellency, Splendor…” they gasped.

“What is it?” Vural frowned.

“Do not punish us for dimming your happiness…”

“Out with it, before I dim your lives,” the emperor growled.

“It’s Lord Cengiz.” The older man stood, his olive face nearly as gray as his hair. “He’s been stabbed.”

The emperor froze. “Is he—”

“Dead.” The guard squeezed his eyes shut. “There’s no doubt.”

The emperor jumped to his feet. “Show me.” He cast a glare at his companions. “You wait here.” He pointed at Kumaz. “Especially you. The rest of you, protect him as if he were your own.”

Kumaz’s bewildered gaze slid over his companions. “Who would kill my brother?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hashem said. “Someone who wanted him out of the way.”

Naqisha moistened her dry mouth with a sip of wine. “But who?” she asked. “Everyone loved Cengiz. He was popular with the military units he led, and would have made a great emperor.” All of that’s true. I would have supported him, had I not had my own son.

Hashem scowled. “Better than your Utku? No, don’t bother to answer. We all know he’s too weak to rule.”

Naqisha pasted a smile on her face to cover her rage. “As you say.” She pursed her lips. “It’s no secret you want your son to become emperor.”

“That’s true. But I’m not fool enough to knife the heir on my way to dinner with his father. Even you wouldn’t come up with an idiotic plan like that.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Naqisha answered. “Where’s your son tonight?”

Hashem’s face darkened. “He and his wife are at my country estate. He’s got better things to do than laze around here.”

“My son always makes good use of his time.”

“Has he learned to read yet?”

Heat flared up Naqisha’s neck and she adopted a patronizing tone. “Oh, you are behind. He started the classics five years ago.” She made a clucking sound. “Your father lost his memory as he aged. Do you think that’s happening to you?”

Kumaz choked out a strangled noise. “My brother’s dead, and you’re flinging insults? What’s wrong with you?”

Naqisha tipped her head. “You’re right. I apologize. Let’s talk of other things.” Anything but corpses with lifeless tawny eyes.

Doleful footsteps heralded the emperor’s return. He was shadowed by four guards and a grim-faced vizier. Virul dropped into his chair and slumped. His silk tunic was rent and his turban askew. “My son is dead.”

Naqisha echoed the startled gasps and horrified exclamations of the others. Are the guards here for me?

The vizier sat at the far end of the table and crossed his arms. “The physician says Cengiz has been dead less than an hour. No one left the palace in the last two. So someone here killed him.”

The emperor scowled. “When we find the culprit,” he said, grief and rage lacing his tone, “I’ll hack out his liver. Then burn him alive.”

His growled threats made blood whoosh in Naqisha’s ears and dark spots dance before her eyes.

“Surely you don’t suspect us?” Naqisha asked.

“Why not?” the vizier said. “You two have sons and harbor ambitions for them.” He eyed Kumaz. “Or were only a heartbeat from being the heir.”

Kumaz gasped. “Father, I—”

Hashem cut him off. “I’m ambitious for my son. But I wouldn’t kill to advance his cause.”

“It’s been done before,” Naqisha said. It had. Cinar’s history teemed with stories of assassinations and plots, while anyone with a trace of royal blood vied for supremacy. While she’d lusted for the power she’d wield if her pliable son became emperor, she’d always thought the throne was out of reach.

Until now. Now that she’d stumbled on a means to clear the path for Utku. Dare I try it again?

“You were late for dinner,” Hashem said, his eyes narrowing. “Where were you?”

“In Cengiz’s study.” Naqisha snorted and curled her lip. “I overpowered a strapping young man in his prime and stabbed him to death.” Her heart raced. She intensified her sneer, hoping the sarcasm was convincing.

The vizier skewered her with a piercing stare. “That hardly seems likely.” He glanced around the room. “None of you were seen during the last hour before dinner.”

“I was changing my clothes,” Hashem said.

The vizier turned an eye to Naqisha, who gestured at the jewels in her hair. “Diamonds don’t leap into place by themselves. I’ve yet to find a maid who can arrange them properly without taking all afternoon.”

The vizier drummed his fingers on the table. “You three, along with one other, would gain the most from Cengiz’s death. That other isn’t in the capital.”

Naqisha shook her head. “I refuse to believe that Kumaz had anything to do with it.”

The vizier’s gaze battled with hers until he sighed and looked away. “I agree.”

Heart galloping, Naqisha gulped down the protestations of innocence that rushed to her throat. Let sputtering Hashem defend himself. Every word he uttered made his guilt seem more likely.

The emperor pressed his hands to his eyes. “What does it matter where they were? Anyone could’ve hired an assassin.”

That’s a wonderful idea.

The vizier nodded slowly. “One of them, or a foreign agent. Either is possible.”

Naqisha tipped her head and forced herself to meet his piercing stare with what she hoped was a look of confusion and shock. Her heart thumped so loudly she couldn’t imagine why the others didn’t hear it.

The vizier’s somber voice interrupted her thoughts. “Highness, we’ll have to announce Kumaz as your new heir.”

The emperor nodded glumly, while a horrified expression spread over Kumaz’s face.

Naqisha dug her fingernails into her leg to keep her relief from bursting into a grin. You should be alarmed, Kumaz. You’re next.