The heart is deceived and the deceiver is in the heart.

— Jaun Elia

✵

Him

"Here, your braids are done. Don't you look like a princess?"

Princess Halah holds out a hand-mirror to her and Noura beams in joy, grinning from ear to ear.

"I look like a queen!" she exclaims in merriment, clearly excited, and the princess chuckles at her enthusiasm.

"You sure do, azizi."

"I'll go show it to my maman."

"Of course." Halah strokes her cheek lovingly and she comes to place the wooden sword besides him.

"Hide it with you. That bad boy wants to steal it from me."

She runs off to find her mother and his father smiles as he remarks, "Such a feisty little thing, isn't she?"

"Wish I had a daughter of my own," his mother mumbles ruefully and the governor of Qahira gazes at his wife with an inscrutable look in his eyes.

"Halah," he places his hand atop hers, "we can have one if you want to."

She pulls back her hand from his and faces away. "Too late for it now, Marwan."

Her

The light is a solo streak in the sky at dawn, the sun having barely risen, and only a few rays tear apart the blanket of darkness to drag forth the day. But like every day that is overcasted by shadows of prison than hopes of freedom, today is no different for her. It's only a counting until by some miracle she returns home. Until she's reunites with her mother. And so the thought doesn't let her to give up. She continues to pray-- to struggle.

The celebration of the last night still floats afresh in front of her eyes, from all the laughter and bliss to the very little entertainment for her from the events. If anything, she didn't fit. Maybe she never will-- not here, never like the queen. And to think Al Shafay ever wanted to make her one. Funnily enough, she feels more like a slave.

She walks down the cobblestone pathway through the gardens with Faris behind her. Nights for her have been sleepless and haunting, no better than her days. Eskander hasn't returned to the palace until now, and though she waited for him, she was met only with disappointment. So at the kiss of morning, she's out in the open where breathing doesn't cause her much suffocation.

When she's out the gardens and passing by the stables, she hears a horse neigh and the sound of hooves hitting the ground. At first, she decides to ignore it moves ahead. But when the noise doesn't stop coming, she halts and turns in the direction.

"What is the matter there?"

"I don't know, sayidati," Faris replies.

"Where is Annas?" she asks about the stable keeper. "What has the horse so restless?"

"That stable has been prohibited to use, sayidati. Someone might have left his horse there without knowledge."

She begins to make her way there. "Well, let us see what is the problem."

"Whoever's horse it is, they'll return to take it. We aren't allowed to go in there," Faris declines.

"Said who?"

"Adam, upon the order of the Khalifa."

Noura smirks upon hearing this. "You only made it more tempting for me to go in there."

"Sayidati, please listen to me--"

But Faris's protests fall on deaf ears as she marches towards the small stable building, persistent to see what has the horse in distress.

When she enters the stable, she feels her soul being ripped out of her body at the shock of what meets her sight. Time freezes and suspends. Suddenly, the dusk of the theft is all too bright in her mind, the black stallion unlike any horse she has ever seen in her life, standing tall before her. It neighs again, raising itself on two legs and then bringing back down its front legs against the ground harshly, the sound echoing loudly around. The horse tugs at the straps that have it tied in its stall, clearly agitated at being bound. It repeats its actions, neighing and hitting the ground hard.

Noura looks around. The stable is empty, no other horse or person there. She glances behind her to Faris.

"This horse, you know it?"

He shakes his head. "But it's magnificent. I wonder who does it belong to."

"Hey," she cautiously moves nearer, and the horse flares its nostrils. "Calm down, boy."

It gives another forceful tug to its strap and she stops, hesitant to go any more closer. If that beastly animal freed itself, it might trample her dead within seconds. She thinks of not taking the risk.

"Buraq," she says its name and the horse perks its ears, nickering, easing its endeavor, as if recognizing its name. Noura smiles at it. "Do you remember me, boy?"

She extends a hand forward but a voice sharply forbids her and she quickly retracts it.

"Don't. He's wild."

She turns around only to find the man she had bumped into last evening striding towards them-- the man she had seen talking with the vizier and Arwa and assumed to be the caliph. He's followed closely by Adam and two of his previous guards along with their horses. For a moment, she feels a chill run through her. She didn't expect being caught while disallowed breaking in here. Faris takes a defensive stance besides her.

The man comes to stand in front of the stall, close to the horse, and holds it firmly by its halter as it once more tries to break free. He looks at her and the dominance in his eyes is like an oath of his eminence. Even if she hadn't known him as the caliph, she'd still have guessed him to be someone of prime status. But could he really be Al Shafay? For some reason she doesn't believe so.

His face is uncovered, finally allowing her to see him and fulfill her desire. He appears as a man of experience and maturity, considerable years older than her, studying her keenly, seemingly astute and quick-witted, but also with a compassionate and soft touch to features, making him approachable and decent to her. Noura briefly glimpses at Adam only to see stark dissatisfaction in his expression and she doesn't dare to actually meet his penetrating stare, refocusing her attention to the man.

"Sayidati," he addresses her, "pleasure to meet you again. Unfortunately we couldn't do introductions last evening."

"I don't think introductions were needed, sayidi," Noura retorts impulsively before she could weigh her response and one of his eyebrow arches up at the sarcasm in her words.

"If you don't feel like it. I didn't think you already know me."

"I don't wish to know more of you after being unjustly accused for a false theft and plotted against to be kept here in your palace."

Even if the universe tries to favor her, her mouth running insolently might as well get her head under an axe someday. But to her surprise, the man chuckles lowly at her statement, taking no offense.

"Ah, that was a very dishonorable thing to be done, especially to the daughter of a man who I regard highly honorable. But I assure you, it wasn't me. Although the wrongdoing towards you would be recompensed for."

"How come?"

"However you demand of me."

She looks at him skeptically, unsure if he's serious or fooling with her. He turns to his horse, running his hand over its back.

"Noura Al Makhzum," he says, "your father, Saud Al Makhzum, was a great teacher of mine. I learnt a lot from him. And I'm indebted to him for making me into who I became-- a man of knowledge. I sincerely apologize for what you went through, sayidati."

He takes a step forward and she stumbles back, startled. Faris unsheaths his sword in a warning.

"Don't come near the lady," he threatens.

Behind the man, Adam along with both of the other men unsheaths their swords too, holding them out at Faris.

"How dare you!" Adam roars.

The man raises his hand to shush him. "It's alright, I mean no harm to the lady. I only need to get the saddle."

He reaches out to take it out from the hook of the stall before gesturing to the men to put back their swords. They obey, except Adam.

"You too," the man orders, and Adam reluctantly sheaths his sword, all the time glaring at Faris.

"Faris," Noura quietly whispers to him. "Don't get us killed. Just put away your sword too."

He does so, and the man smiles at him. "Where are you from, young man?"

"Ar Raqqa," Faris responds.

"What's your name?"

"Faris ibn Hatib."

"He's the nephew of the governor of Ar Raqqa, sayidi," Adam informs him.

He hums. "I like a man who's responsible and dedicated to his duty. Take good care of the lady. But so of yourself. These imprudent instincts might come between your head and body someday."

He opens the stall and pulls out the horse. Noura hurries to move away from it. Faris narrows his eyes at him.

"And who you must be to say this?"

"Who am I?" He repeats as he saddles his horse, then mounts it and looks down at him. "I'm a servant of God and His people." The two guards with him mount their horse too. Buraq huffs and nickers and he delivers a firm pat to its neck, shushing it, before adding, "I'm Yusuf, son of Khalid ibn Al Malik, the former Khalifa of this kingdom. You might have heard of me, no? The caliph assumed to be dead."

The ground beneath her feet shake at his words. She cannot believe what she has heard, or who the man in front of her is. Her jaw goes slack as she stares at him flabbergasted, space and time meaningless once more, or maybe it's her comprehension of the moment that has just died. Faris appears equally dumbfounded.

The man turns to Adam. "I don't want anymore accusations hurled at my wife, no more questioning of my child's paternity. Make it clear to everyone, all can be forgiven against me, but nothing will be forgiven against my queen."

Adam tips his head. "As you say, my lord."

"No harm shall befall her or you'll find yourself answerable to me."

"I'll guard her with my life."

He steers his horse towards the exit. "Send a message to Taha to meet me. Tell him to come prepared with a plan. I'll be expecting him."

"Yes, sayidi."

With that, he snaps the reins of his horse and it goes galloping and disappears in the distance within seconds along with his men. When he's gone, Adam turns to her, and she prepares to leave too before he can reprimand her for anything.

"Is it a must to let your tongue loose and long every time?" he hisses nonetheless.

She throws him a glare over her shoulder. "I didn't know who he was."

She rushes out of the stable before it could escalate and she could find herself at the losing end. Noura makes her way inside the palace and decides to stop by Eskander's chamber to check whether he has returned or not. The guard at his door informs her that he has, and she goes to knock on his door, but he stops her.

"The general refused to see anyone, sayidati."

"Tell him it's me. It's urgent," Noura insists.

There has been things getting denser and piling up-- things that he must know. Eskander won't deny seeing her.

The guard gets into his chamber and returns a moment later, opening the door for her and allowing her inside, as expected.

Noura steps inside, and as soon as her eyes take him in, she knows he's neither in a good mood nor a stable state. He's disheveled, armor gone and only in his undershirt and trousers, sprawled on the chair with a goblet lying on the table in front of him. He crooks his head as she walks in, taking her in intently.

"Nour, azizem, are you alright? The guard said you needed to see me urgently."

"I'm fine," she says, moving nearer to him, forgetting all matters against his distraught condition. "What has happened to you, Eskander?"

He only shakes his head, taking a gulp from the goblet, presumably wine, his lax composure enough of an evidence to her. She comes to stand by his chair, peering down at him.

"Eskander?"

He hums without meeting her gaze.

"You've been drinking?"

"A little." He pauses, reaching out to refill his goblet from the container but she grasps his forearm.

"Look at me."

He reluctantly does so, the gold and honey in his eyes dull and dusky, blended with the weariness and red in them. She clicks her tongue in disappointment.

"A lot. You seem to have drunken a lot."

"Why are you here?" he asks instead. "You shouldn't be. I'm not at my best."

"Very apparently. I was here to talk to you about something important, but given your position, it wouldn't be of use."

"Tell me another time. Right now I cannot deal with anymore than the burden I'm already carrying."

She hears the exhaustion in his voice, thick and heavy, as if crushing him down. Her heart aches for him and she combs her fingers through his tousled hair, pushing them away from his dreary orbs.

"Tell me what happened?"

"Fereydun," he says. "Al Shafay demoted him from the governorship of Khorasan, and discharged many of our men from their services. I'm afraid he's learning of our tactics. There must be spies after us."

Her guts twists in trepidation, making her feel sick. The fear of the caliph learning of Eskander's ploy and his loyalties lying against him might cost him his life. Her throat constricts, choking her. She cannot bear the thought of anything happening to him.

"What now?" she inquiries anxiously.

"I don't know. He just made things a hundred times difficult for us. God damn him."

He tries to get up but trips, unable to keep his balance. Noura hastens to support him, but his weight is too much for her and he falls to his knees on the floor.

"Eskander?" She kneels besides him. "Are you feeling unwell?"

He presses his temples, wincing. "It hurts."

"Your head?" She touches his forehead in concern.

"That bastard. All of them," he curses. "If I die, I'll tear open my grave and come back for them."

"What is wrong with you?" She takes his face in her hands. "Eskander, stop speaking nonsense. Nothing will happen to you."

He gazes at her, so long that the look in his eyes changes from that of familiarity to faraway and wistful. He inclines towards her.

"I wasn't like this," he says, tone broken and strained. "I haven't been myself ever since..."

He doesn't finish, and Noura blinks in confusion. "What?"

He holds his abdomen, clutching his eyes shut and groaning in pain, and panics washes over her.

"Eskander?"

He pants, trying to get up but falling down again. Despite her best efforts, she cannot help him up either. So she call for help.

"Faris?!"

The man hurries into the room at her call.

"Help me put him in the bed," she commands.

Faris quickly comes to his side, supporting him as he lifts him up. Eskander leans over him and he leads him to the bed.

"Lie down, sayidi," he carefully sets him down and Noura pulls the blanket over him.

"Stay," he mumbles, clutching her wrist as she covers him. Faris lowers his gaze.

"Get him water," she requests. He tips his head and leaves.

Noura watches Eskander lying there, his eyes half open, probably unable to even make her out as his head keeps rolling to the side, ready to doze off.

She hovers over him. "Get some rest, my dearest."

"You'll stay?" he ask in a murmur.

"I'll come to see you later." She places a feather kiss to his forehead. "Sleep now."

But before she could go, he gently tugs her back to himself. "Don't leave me, Ruwa. Delam barat tang shude (I miss you)."

She feels as if an arrow has been embedded in her heart. She feels as if a sword has cut her through and through. At first, she's not sure she has heard him right. Then, she's unable to process his words-- unable to accept them. They're a bitter venom that might kill her if swallowed. But they were spoken with enough clarity for her to deny them. Noura feels an agony synonymous to death envelope her.

"Eskander," she croaks, vision already blurring from the tears watering her eyes. "I'm... I'm not Ruwa."

The last of the nails is hit in the coffin as he let go of her hand, as if understanding her-- as if realizing he was holding the hand of the wrong woman.

She cannot takes it anymore. Without waiting another second, she scurries out of his chamber, struggling not to sob her heart out-- not to break down there and then in her misery. She digs her fingers in her palms, breathing unsteadily, what she's feeling inside her bosom making it difficult to for her to keep herself together without shattering apart.

"Sayidati?"

She looks up at Faris who has returned with water. He gives her a troubled look.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"If you're worried about the general, don't be. He'll be fine."

She nods. "Leave the water besides his bed. I'm going to my chamber."

She strides down the corridor only to run into Adam around the corner. Having no strength to deal with him, she tries to dodge him but he blocks her path.

"Noura?"

"Move aside."

She steps away to walk past him but he clasps her arm.

"Azizi," he says tenderly, sorrowfully, voice full of solicitude. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Leave me alone."

She attempts to free herself of his hold but he doesn't release her. "How do I leave you alone when you're hurting?"

"Because your presence is only hurting me more!" she snaps, jerking away from him and tugging herself free.

She doesn't know how she makes it to her chamber with all her anguish. She doesn't know how her heart keeps beating despite this torment. She shuts the door and slides down it, hugging her knees to her chest and burying her face in her arms. The tears she has been able to keep at bay and not shed no matter how rough the circumstances now keep pouring like heavy rain. She sobs to herself, the pain relentlessly clawing her heart, never stopping.

"Eskander," she hiccups, fisting her hands, all things fading against the turbulence of her emotions as they drown her. "I loved you. I wanted to marry you. But who am I to you?"

✵

How do you like my surprises?

Please Read

Hey,

So I try my best to make things clear little by little as the story proceeds and not make the mystery too confusing. And as we're nearing the ending, it would be easier for you to connect all the dots only if you've developed good understanding of the plot so far.

But if you've any confusion about the things that have already been revealed to you yet you haven't understood them, you can drop me your questions in the comments and I'll answer them for you:

Leave your queries here, if any.

If a question has already been asked, kindly refer to the same comment instead of repeating it. If you've got the plot so far and can answer each other's questions, you're most welcomed to (I'll make corrections if needed).