"Make way, for Prince Sahir~"
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Fandom: Genshin Impact
Ship: Sahir Ibn Khaldaris (oc) x reader
Format: Oneshot (short)
ignore that this is completely a Christmas and new years gift for my wife @nogenderbee
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I learned early that hunger makes you honest.
It strips you down to the truth of things how many coins you have left, how long you can go without eating, how much pride youβre willing to swallow before your body forces your hand. In the desert, there is no room for lies. The heat burns them away.
By the time I reached the market that morning, the sun was already high enough to sting. Sand clung to my sandals and the hem of my clothes, worked its way into every crease of my skin like it was trying to claim me. The bazaar was alive despite it vendors shouting prices, fabrics snapping in the dry wind, the air thick with spice and dust and roasting meat I could not afford.
I counted my coins for the third time.
Still not enough.
I stood at a stall piled high with flatbread and dates, pretending I was considering my options when in truth I was calculating which meal I could skip without fainting later. The vendor watched me with the practiced patience of someone who knew exactly how this would end.
βIβll take half,β I said finally, hating the way my voice dipped.
He named the price. I opened my palm.
The silence that followed was louder than the market.
βThatβs short,β he said, not unkindly.
βI know.β My fingers curled around the coins, knuckles tight. βI can bring the rest tomorrow.β
He sighed. βTomorrow doesnβt feed you today.β
I swallowed. The heat pressed in, thick and suffocating, and for one humiliating moment I considered begging. Just a little. Just enough.
Then the market changed.
It wasnβt sudden at first just a ripple. A hush moving through the crowd like wind through tall grass. Voices lowered. People stepped back. Someone muttered a name under their breath, reverent and sharp all at once.
I turned just as the procession entered the bazaar.
Guards in layered silks and polished armor parted the crowd with practiced ease, their presence commanding space without force. Behind them came camels draped in gold-threaded cloth, servants carrying parasols and chests, the soft jingle of jewelry announcing wealth before it could even be seen.
And at the center of it allβ
Prince Sahir ibn Khaldaris.
I knew him by reputation alone, the way everyone in the desert did. The favored son of a powerful lineage. The jewel of the sands. A man born with more wealth than I would see in ten lifetimes. He wore red and gold like the desert wore the sun, dark hair falling loose beneath a wrapped headscarf, eyes sharp and unreadable as he surveyed the market.
I hated him instantly.
Not for anything he did. Not really.
But because the world bent for him, and it never bent for people like me.
The vendor straightened, suddenly all smiles and bows. βYour Highness β
Sahirβs gaze shifted, passing over spices and fabrics and people like they were part of the scenery until it stopped.
On me.
I stiffened. I didnβt bow. I didnβt step back. I just stared, defiant and tired and painfully aware of the coins clenched in my hand.
His eyes dropped, just briefly, to my palm.
Then he smiled.
It wasnβt the sharp, smug grin I expected. It was softer. Curious. Like heβd found something interesting where he hadnβt expected to.
βYou were buying?β he asked.
His voice was low, smooth, the kind that carried easily even without being raised.
βI was,β I said flatly.
βAnd now?β
βAnd now Iβm leaving,β I snapped, turning away before pride could fully abandon me.
βWait.β
The word wasnβt a command but it stopped me anyway.
βIβll cover it,β he said. βAll of it.β
I laughed, short and humorless. βI donβt need charity.β
βGood,β he replied easily. βNeither do I.β
He nodded to the vendor, who immediately began piling food into a basket far more than Iβd asked for. Flatbread, dates, dried fruit, even a small sack of rice.
βThis is ridiculous,β I said. βI didnβt ask for-β
βI did,β Sahir said. βAnd I insist.β
I glared up at him. βWhy?β
For a moment, something flickered behind his eyes something thoughtful. βBecause you looked like you needed it.β
I hated that answer most of all.
Before I could argue further, he was already moving, gesturing for me to follow as the convoy shifted deeper into the bazaar.
βIβm not going on some royal errand with you,β I said.
βThen donβt,β he replied. βWalk beside me. Or ahead. Or leave.β
He paused, glancing back. βBut the spiced tea at the eastern stalls is worth staying for~"
Against my better judgmentβ
I stayed.
We walked through the market together, the space around us opening like water before a blade. Vendors bowed. Children stared. I scowled and clutched my basket like it might disappear if I loosened my grip.
βYou know,β I said, βpeople like you ruin markets like this.β
He raised a brow. βDo we?β
βEverything doubles in price the moment you arrive.β
A soft huff of laughter escaped him. βIβll apologize to the economy later.β
I shot him a look, but he was smiling again not mocking, justβ¦ amused. As if my anger didnβt offend him.
We stopped at a stall selling jewelry carved from bone and stone. Sahir picked up a simple bracelet, turning it over in his fingers.
βDo you hate me?β he asked suddenly.
I blinked. βWhat?β
βYou glare like you do.β
βYes,β I said without hesitation. βI do.β
He nodded, like heβd expected that. βFair.β
That should have annoyed me more than it did.
By the time the sun began to dip, my basket was heavy, my feet sore, and my resentmentβ¦ complicated. Sahir listened more than he spoke. Asked questions about my life without pity. When I complained about the heat, he agreed. When I scoffed at palace life, he didnβt defend it.
At the edge of the bazaar, the convoy slowed.
A guard leaned in, urgency etched into his expression. Sahir sighed, long and quiet.
βI have to go,β he said.
βOh,β I replied, surprised by the sharp twist in my chest.
He hesitated, then pressed a small coin into my hand not gold. Copper. Common.
βFor next time,β he said.
βThere wonβt be a next time.β
βPerhaps,β he said gently. βBut Iβd like there to be.β
Before I could answer, he was being ushered away, swallowed by silk and sand and status.
I stood there long after the market noise returned, watching the desert reclaim him.
And for the first time in a long while, hunger wasnβt the loudest thing in my chest.
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