At One's Wits' End

“My son, restrain yourself—please!” The Sultana pleaded with a quivering voice.

Azlan was furious. The burning fury in his eyes darkened those once bright colors of candlelight and earth.

The son she knew was slowly drifting away as he dawdled into insanity—slowly losing his mind to his destructive ambition. Queen Parvaneh’s heart shattered, slowly chipping little pieces away like some amateur potter’s work.

But she had to stand up. It was necessary for that moment for her to equal Azlan’s stubbornness and pride. “You have to stop with this ordeal, Azlan! It is just a day, and it is already exhausting!” She exclaimed.

“I have made my statements loud and clear. My decision is final, and I won’t let you, woman, destroy everything.” He violently retorted—a definite cold blow to his mother.

The queen had a hand to her chest, mortified by how he responded to her. She realized her firstborn no longer saw her as the mother he dearly cared for.