Wind in your hair, moon in your skies, puzzles in my soul, answers in your eyes.

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It has been a long time since he had last seen him. It feels like a fragment of his childhood ripped and faded to dullness now. But when he sees him, he remembers him as well as that last time. If he was a young boy before, he looks to him a learnt man now-- impressive, authoritative, ingenious. After all, from a prince he has become a Khalifa, overcoming the rebellion and claiming the throne of his father.

It has been many long years and he too has grown out of his childhood into his youth. His master presents him before the caliph, hitting him for the nth time now to lower his head against their ruler, but he keeps it held high, stare sharp as he looks Yusuf bin Khalid in the eyes.

"How much for this young man?" Yusuf asks the seller.

"Sayidi, this one is rebellious. He won't be any good to you."

"Name your price. I want no other but him."

The bargain takes place and the caliph buys him from his master. When everyone is dismissed and he's left alone with him, Yusuf gets up from his throne and ties his hands behind his back, coming towards him until they're face to face.

"You spent quite an amount on me for nothing, sayidi," he tells him. "The man was right-- I won't be any good to you."

"I've dug through the world for you, I would've given up my treasures to take you from him. The price he put forth was nothing."

"You killed my father," he hisses.

"What about the fathers he killed?" he asks calmly.

He swallows thickly, having no answer to offer him, and questions instead, "What do you want from me now?"

"You're the joy of my wife, and I can do anything for her. So if not for me, then for your sister, let the past stay behind us." He clasps his shoulder and smiles. "From today onwards, you're part of my palace, not as my slave but as my friend-- my brother. I free you from slavery, akhi."

There are scars etched onto his skin like map markings in desert sand. There are wounds which are fresh, and those dating back to the time she doesn't want to think about. Her fingers hover upon them, grazing the old ones, and skipping the tender ones, sitting beside his bed for hours now while he lies still, breathing steadily and his eyes closed, not once blessing her with a look she craves dearly.

The infirmary is small, and she's left alone with her husband since she has been stubborn and insisted to stick by his side. The night has fallen and the horrors of the morning they had been through are still stabbing her in the heart. The caravan has left without them-- she decided not to leave. She couldn't leave Adam, especially not in the state he's in. She has lost her chance of returning home, to her mother, and burying the past for good. Fate has played her again, like it has been toying with her for the last few months. Maybe she has lost, but at least her love is saved. There remains no regrets for her, for as long as she has him, she knows they'll find a way together.

Noura runs her fingers through his hair, gazing at him hopefully. She then strokes his cheek before returning to his hair.

"Janem," she murmurs between them quietly. "Would you not look at me? I long for you."

His reply is silence, and her response is in the form of prayers to their Lord. She leans down and rests her forehead against his shoulder.

"Adam, didn't you tell me if my heart gets broken, I'll find you by my side?"

She closes her eyes too, letting the silence stretch to deafness. She lifts her head slightly to look at his face.

"See, my heart is broken. But don't be gone-- don't leave me when I stayed for you. This time my heart won't heal."

She edges forward, kissing his cheek, finding his hand and taking it into her own. Noura nuzzles her nose against the crook of his neck, sniffing quietly as her tears push through, the thought of losing him constricting her chest and choking her. She never thought being left without him would affright her so much. But now the possibility alone is a terror to consider. She doesn't know when, but along the time this fondness of him has turned into something vehement, almost lethal. It's frightening, this desire to be with him, so frenzied that it's insatiable.

"Divunatam (I'm crazy about you)." She smiles against her tears. "Isn't it funny when once I'd be crazy because of you? What changed, I don't know, but you know what is it called? Eshq. Hubb. (love)." She once more lifts her face to his own, her confession heavy, shocking even her own self, but also relieving her. "I thought Eskander could break me, but he didn't. You did, you know?" She lets her soul speak, unable to cage the words anymore. "Asheghetam, Adam (I love you, Adam)." She squeezes his hand, repeating herself in his language, "Ana ohibbok (I love you)."

Time flows until the night turns darker and the quiet becomes an echo starting to bother her. But she waits, hoping, staying by the side of the man she loves-- her love, her lover. Until someone enters the infirmary.

"Get some rest," Muawwiz say. "You staring at him won't make him recover any sooner."

"I'm not sleepy," she excuses.

"Fine then, come with me."

"What for?"

"We need to speak."

"What about?"

"About a lot of things."

"I'm not leaving him."

He gives her a wary look. "He's fine. You being away for a while won't kill him. Now come with me. We won't be far."

She knows what he wants to discuss, and though she doesn't want to talk about the topic, she knows there's no evading it for long. So she abandons her place and follows after the commander outside, leaving guards behind them.

Muawwiz walks down the street casually, his sword hanging by his hip and his cloak covering his form. The dim glow of the stars shine over him, glazing his features as he glances back at her.

"Sit down."

He motions towards a bench made from slabs of stones while himself sits at the steps of a house at the corner, one which the soldiers have rented for themselves. She takes a seat at the bench.

"I would've invited you inside," he tells her, referring to the house, "but your husband will forget that I saved his life and take my own instead for providing you company in his absence."

"You can get to the point, commander," she replies, and he shrugs nonchalantly.

"How about you start, sayidati."

"You're going to inform the Ameer about our marriage?" she asks frankly.

"What good will that do me? Your marriage is of no significance to me."

"So you won't tell him?" she wonders out in surprise.

He chuckles and rubs his hands together. "It wouldn't make a difference. Tell me, of all the time you spent at the palace, what did you learn?"

Noura frowns in confusion, peering at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean all you did was probably try to escape out of it, when you had the opportunity to rule it instead."

She huffs in disdain. "By submitting to the caliph?"

"You think the caliph can anonymously rule the kingdom, but cannot tame a woman?" He scoffs back. "He's sly, and you're naive, woman. If you think you've won because you're sent home, then you're very wrong."

Apprehension coils her gut and she knits her eyebrows. "I don't understand, why don't you be clear? What is it that you want to talk about exactly?"

"I've spent years at the palace, sayidati," he tells her, serious now. "I served Yusuf bin Khalid, and I served Al Shafay after him. I've been a dedicated servant of Ameer Zakariya and the commander of the royal army. I'm informed of what goes on inside or outside those walls. I know that the morning you and Adam left the palace, something unfitting was up. So of course I looked into the matter and found out the place you had gone to. What was I to assume?"

Noura gapes at him, a little shocked as she inquires, "You already knew about our marriage?"

"No, your husband didn't leave a trace behind to confirm my doubts. You did that yourself." He smirks. "I couldn't find the witnesses, but I mentioned it to the vizier, and he simply dismissed my concerns. You know what else I found and it was dismissed too?"

"What?" she asks keenly.

"That general Eskander Teymour is a traitor," he declares and her heart immediately sinks to the bottom. "I had proofs against him, but his life was still spared, along with Adam's, both of whom seemingly have bluffed the caliph. And what is it that Al Shafay never forgives? Betrayal. The punishment for that is brutal. But he still let them both live. Strange, isn't it?"

She doesn't reply, too dazed to do so, letting his words take root into her head. Muawwiz leans forward and locks his fingers between his knees.

"Let me tell you more," he continues. "During all my years in service, I've never known Al Shafay. Nobody except a few people have, and even those people are a mystery. He had been very heedful of ruling behind a mask. And despite everyone being curious or restless to know the Khalifa, he made sure everything is in check and nothing against him. But now things are changing, starting with the return of the sons of Khalid for the throne to Al Shafay becoming less and less concerned about his identity and the crown, to the point that traitors are forgiven and a woman is chased. Such folly one wouldn't expect from a ruler who so long so cunningly ran this kingdom. Does this make sense to you?"

"Somethings is wrong," she speaks up, and Muawwiz smiles wickedly in agreement. "If Khalifa knows the truth, why is he letting this be?"

"I think I'm only learning now, but maybe I need your help to reach a conclusion."

"My help?" Noura blinks incredulously.

"Yes, I need you to answer a question of mine. I've a doubt you need to confirm."

"What question?"

"The Khalifa spared Eskander's life so as not to stir unrest among the soldiers and push you any further from him--"

"He wouldn't do it for me," she cuts in bitterly. "Why would you assume he's still after me?"

"You're foolish if you think you could so easily find your way out of his traps. In fact, you might have fallen into one."

"Pardon me?"

"Listen to me first," he presses. "Al Shafay sparing Eskander's life makes sense to me, but him sparing Adam's doesn't."

"He trusts Adam. He wouldn't take your word against him and kill him."

"And you think he couldn't actually find the man you've married to escape him? He would've made him a lesson for everyone if he wanted to. But he didn't. He let the matter go. He let you be. Why?"

"What are you implying, commander?"

"That your husband isn't who he seems."

Noura stares daggers at him, but before she could open her mouth to defend him, he raises his palm to shush her.

"I only want you to tell me his name. Simple," Muawwiz demands. "Who is Adam? You've married him, you must know him by his complete name, or his father's name? They must have mentioned it at the time of the marriage."

She pauses, her memory of that night resurfacing. She does remember his name, but not his father's. That night she was too anxious to register every detail and even if she had caught it, she cannot recall it. Yet still revealing Adam's name to Muawwiz doesn't sound pleasing to her. If Adam has kept it hidden, as he had told her no one really knows it, she doesn't think her disclosing it is any fair. So she shakes her head in denial.

"How do I trust you?"

"You don't have to. I cannot cause you any harm, neither your husband. The damage would already be done if I could."

"I still can't be sure."

"Fine, don't tell me his name. I'll tell it to you and if I'm right, you just need to confirm it."

"I--"

She doesn't get to refuse as he blurts it, "Adam Al Kurdiya."

Noura goes mute, dumbfounded, gawking at him. When times ticks and she still doesn't affirm it even though he's right, Muawwiz grins widely.

"I'll take it as a yes, sayidati, thank you." He stands up, looking down at her. "I think I've found what I've been seeking. We should get back."

"Wait," Noura gets to her feet too. "What does this prove? How do you know him?"

"Because unlike you, I've spent my life navigating rather than trying escaping the palace. So unlike me, you've fallen in a trap that will take you a lifetime to escape now." He laughs out, walking down the pathway back to the infirmary. "Ah, like father like son. Al Shafay is devious, I'll give him that. But so is Sulaiman bin Khalid. I'll just sit back and watch who takes whose head first. While you, woman, run away from all of this when you're at it. Maybe it'll save you the trouble ahead."

She follows after him, head a hives of queries too entangled to be sorted. Noura fastens her paces to catch up with him.

"But you serve Al Shafay," she reminds him. "Or are you one of the snakes--"

"Like your brother?" He looks at her over his shoulder. "My father was the royal guard of princess Halah bint Al Malik. When the first rebellion happened, the princess escaped her palace in Qahira with her son-- my father escorted them." He cranes back his neck away from her. "At the borders of Iraq, the caravan they were with was attacked. No one knows who survived and who was killed. My father didn't return home, and the princess and her son weren't found either. Until..."

"Until?" Noura pushes eagerly to know more.

"Until recently," he finishes, "when the rumors rose that the prince lived, and now is ruling as Al Shafay."

"So that is true?"

"As it seems." They stop in front of the infirmary and he turns to her. "You asked me if I'm one of the snakes for speaking against Al Shafay, I'm not."

Noura doesn't expect him to tell her anything, let alone his reasons or his story, but he does, surprising her.

"After the war when Yusuf bin Khalid became the Khalifa, my mother took me and we came to Baghdad. I grew up under the supervision of Ameer Zakariya ibn Al Hakam. He was one of the viziers at that time, but not the grand vizier, who had lost his sons to the war. He saw potential in me and sent me to train as a soldier, and Yusuf bin Khalid later on appointed me as the commander of his army and supervisor of the royal guards. So who I serve is the hand that saved me, sayidati. Ameer Zakariya and Yusuf bin Khalid both stand by Al Shafay. And though I don't blame Al Shafay for the deeds of his father, I'd rather have chosen to stand aside than stand by him or against him. But I'm a servant of the crown and bound to obey the order. For if I was a rebel, I'd be taking your husband dead than alive back to Baghdad."

She's once more left in a labyrinth by his implication. He conveys everything in a puzzle for her to understand right away. But she cannot get to ask him anymore when a guard comes out of the infirmary to inform them that Adam has woken up.

Noura rushes inside instantly, forgetting all about her discussion with Muawwiz, and finds Adam on the bed with his eyes fixed to the door. Their gazes collide as soon as she makes an appearance, as if he was awaiting her all along.

"Noura." He extends his hand towards her, and she hurries to his side to take it, sitting besides him on the bed.

"Adam." She lifts his knuckles to her lips to kiss them. "Thank God you've woken up, azizi. I was so worried for you. How do you feel?"

"Fine now that you're with me." His voice his hoarse, tired, and his eyes still look drowsy to her. She strokes his jaw lovingly. "I thought you left for home when I didn't find you beside me."

"Where is my home besides you?" She smiles at him and clutches his hand in both of her, pressing it to her heart. "Where could I go without you?"

"I'm sorry, Noura. You cannot see your mother because of me. But I'll take you back--"

"Shhhh." She places a finger upon his lips to silence him. "We'll go together when you're well. I'll not leave without you."

He gazes at her, orbs glittering with something incomprehensible, and the corners of his mouth quirk up. "You will not?"

"No," she assures, confessing, "The thought of losing you scares me, habibi. My world is dark without you. I'm lonely. Don't leave me either, Adam. Never do."

"I won't. I promise you."

Someone clears their throat. Noura let go of Adam as Muawwiz enters the room. He looks at her, then to Adam who stares back at him.

"How are you?" Muawwiz asks.

"Alive, thanks to you," Adam replies. "I never thought I'd say this, but I owe you my life."

Muawwiz only tips his head. "Maybe this was a sign that you should stop breaking the rules." He produces a scroll from beneath his belt. "I'm here to take you back to Baghdad and send the lady to her home."

"I stay with him," Noura interjects.

"Suit yourself. Then you come back to the palace with us too, sayidati."

"I'll escorts her myself to Isfahan," Adam insists.

"This is an order from--"

"I don't take orders from anyone," he cuts the commander.

"From Yusuf bin Khalid," Muawwiz completed his sentence nonetheless, coming to hand the scroll to him. "Breach of the order will compel me to take you back forcefully," he informs him, eyes flicking to Noura before finding Adam again.

"You cannot make me do anything by force, commander," Adam replies, a warning in his tone.

"I must inform you that in your absence, general Eskander who was ordered to go to Samarkand ended up in Khorasan instead and has formed an alliance with our enemies. They're besieging areas around Baghdad and the council has demanded your immediate presence at the palace." Muawwiz makes his way back towards the door, letting his words hang heavy in the air as he leaves, "Now either you willingly go back with me or the throne is lost to the enemy, the choice is yours, sayidi."

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