"Leave us," Suleiman commands, and all the guards flee the room. As Munir examined the man tied to his knees, the soft fading light bounced on his features, revealing his wounds from the struggle earlier. "Khalid? Is that you, boy? " Munir bent down, wiping the blood off his face.

"Reunions!" Can we just cut to the chase? A small cup tumbled over to the floor as his fist pounded on the hardwood. Alerting the old man to his feet, "I dare say your little spy has been quite useful."

"No please!" Khalid mumbled his bruised lip, carrying it out haphazardly, barely making sense.

"What do you mean?" A furious Munir questioned, "Well, years ago I found this rat of yours hiding in my chambers." He agreed to keep an eye on you for a price, of course. Suleiman's deadly eyes savored the scene, awaiting a reaction.

"Please Munir, don't listen to him; it's all lies!" Khalid pleaded with Munir. "Oh really?" Suleiman challenges, "Guards, bring in the girl! Apparently, I am not as blind and foolish as you. My men did dig up some dirt on him. Leila is escorted into the room. Confused, she joins the trio.

"Malik," Leila bows, "Now tell us who this man is to you."

"Sorry Malik, I have no relation to him in any way. I only know him as Munir's apprentice."

"Oh please! Enough of the pretense! Allow me, my foolish friend, these two are siblings. " His eyes were shifting from one to the other.

"This one needed the money to bail their father from jail; as it turns out, he was a wealthy scholar in the northern kingdom until he challenged a wazir." Suleiman explained, "Dare you deny the truth of your Malik?" He challenged them. "My father was an honest man!" Her words irritated him. "Guards! "Lock them up."

"Malik, he was only a child. Please go easy on him." Munir reasons futilely. "Traitors shall deserve what is to come to them."

' '

"Very punctual, I see." Samira mocks the old man as he approaches the stand. "State your price, lady!" Samira draws close, keeping her voice between them. "I would like that very much, but you see... I can't." Munir knew the woman was in desperate need of the offer, but why did she refuse to take it? "Look here, I am willing to pay anything, just name it." The woman's eyes dilated as if she remembered something. "Then how much more will you be willing to spend on a long-lost child?" Munir looks away, sheltering the guilt in his eyes. "I have come here for the slave, nothing else. As for the child, I have told you I have none. " "Then let us strike a truce. You help me find this girl's parents. In return, I give you the slave." Munir pauses for a while, examining her dull face. He could not trust her and he could not lose Mina either. "So be it."

' '

Through the shadows, the wind brushed her icy skin. Blowing a curl or two from her neat bun, a peaceful sight accentuated by the dim lanterns struggling to light. She admired how the light played in the water, how she would distort its flow with a single touch. Amidst twisting figures, something seemed to be moving, shaking the bushes as it passed, mistaking it for wind. It rushed to the group by the stream. Observing them from a distance

"We can't keep the king waiting any longer, Amira." One of the maids mumbles, alerting her. Mina looks up at her, sighing, "We best be getting back."

Nervously, she slips through the door, stepping on the large fabrics. She stumbles forward, hands missing the door frame. In an attempt to maintain her balance, her efforts in delay caught the attention of Ali, who was apparently making his way in as well.

"Salam Amira!" Mina wanted to flee, to hide behind the walls where she was always invisible, but all she could do was waddle her feet through the sea of cloth in an attempt to recover "Salam malik."Her inaudible reply, though appropriate, sent her into an internal conflict so that she failed to notice his stiff arm extended to her aid.

Ali chortled at the site, refusing to withdraw his arm. "Please, Ami, do not embarrass yourself further." Mina took his hand, and for a brief second, their eyes met. "You..." the words stumbled out as confusion washed over him. "Shall I escort you?" "The king is expecting me. I am already late." Undeterred, Ali gestures her to follow, "I insist. Besides, you have never been the kind to throw off a good excuse."

Mina followed obediently. "I am sure we are acquainted but have you..." he hesitates in fear to continue. How was he to tell her she resembled a slave he met at the market? Where would he start? The risk proved to be great; he needed to choose his next words carefully. "Umm, you remind me of someone; I mean your eyes..." I can't remember precisely. " When the words were met with silence, he was yet again intrigued. Though it was long ago, he knew her to be a nosy, curious person and yet she did not say a word nor comment to his compliments.

"Anyway, how is your brother?" Mina was startled by the inquisition. Her determination to stay quiet was failing. "Well... I guess." Nervously fiddling with her lace, she had her face glued to the ground in fear he would detect her act. "You guess? Another fight is it? " Her eyes focused on his effortless, majestic steps that left her nearly running in order to keep up. He turned to her, noticing her distraction. He slowed down. "Well, I last saw him on the border giving alms a week after your alleged proposal, with his giant escort as always." He paused a moment, thinking of something, then continued, "What is the dog's name again?"

Just as Mina looked up, ready to defend herself, a dagger flew in from the darkness, hitting him precisely on his chest. Mina watched him struggle to withdraw his sword as one of the guards struck his head with the hilt of a sword. Within seconds, he lost his balance, and another guard broke his fall. She wanted to scream, but a blow to the head was enough to render her unconscious.

' '

"Is this any way to treat a guest?" A pale girl in green complains, "Ah! Any longer and my powder will fade. " Another joins in, fixing a loose curl inside her oil-stained blue scarf. "Oh! Sisters, you are the ones who insisted on coming early. "She scans the room again for her newfound friend. But the room was quite deserted, save for her impatient family.

For the hundredth time, her eyes meet the grand doors. This time they did not disappoint, paving the way for a large group that immediately filled the room. An announcement interrupts the gossip. Hand in hand, the two walked in, laughing and conversing.

"Where did she get those clothes?" One of the girls lifts her face in disgust. "I heard that one will not be on the market until next year." The blue-scarfed one added "Oh! I want that neat scarf. I want to be her stylist. " The one in green whines, eying her outdated version. "Shhhh! Girls. "

Their loud comments did not bother the two at all as Suleiman majestically led her to a seat among the others. "Amiras" paying his respects before taking his own seat, his wazirs followed suit, and in no time, the whole room was full. As was tradition, the thin curtain was drawn to separate the room into two.

Minutes passed and their slow meal became a series of murmurs and peeping through curtains. "Please check again." The girl closest to the curtain peeped through again. With no luck, she shut it angrily, "I am sure he has arrived." The other one chipped in. "Humph!" All the attention turns to the quiet Aisha, busily slurping her hot coffee.

"What?" One of the girls shoots at her, but she continues with her meal peacefully. "Uh! The witch has her tongue in knots." The blue-scarfed one mocks "With all due respect, Amira." I have had quite a day. " Before another word could be exchanged, a guard hurries into the room and whispers to the king. Suleiman immediately stood up and walked out with him. "What is going on? First, the prince is nowhere to be seen. Now, this? " Aisha slowly gets up, taking her leave as well. "See you soon, ladies. I must retire now."

' '

Her head rung. All she could see was darkness. "Hello?" Her hand moved against the cold, dusty stone. Her tied legs recognized a rhythmic rise and fall beneath fabrics just across from her. "Hello? Where am I? "Please let me go." With her feet, she pulled herself forward closer to the fabrics, giving them a slight nudge, "Who are you?" What am I doing here? " Silence once again.

The familiar coal dust brushed her nose as a loud drag came through before voices were heard. "You did well. The mistress will be very happy." A small light flutters from a distance, her spinning head barely making out the figures.

"Did you see last night's brawl?" The gravelly speech came again, slightly louder and clearer than before. "Yes! "It was a real treat," a pitched response came through, "These ladies sure know how to spoil a sport." The gravelly one continued, "How so?" with a small clank.

"Take that physician; her skill is perfection but useless in a match!" Then a raspy grind of stone against metal, as if to sharpen a knife. "Well, you know what they say," as her vision blurred and everything slipped from view as she collapsed once again.