The world is entire and I'm outside of it, crying.

—

✵

"To protect the throne, blood is a sacrifice. But the sacrifice that my people have to make for me is bigger than the sacrifice I alone can make. So I'll choose the latter."

"What do you have in mind?"

"A lot." He buries his dagger in the wood of the table, tearing the papers lying upon it in the process. "All these plans are futile efforts against the enemy. I don't like them-- they won't work. I could fight and win this battle, but you suggested to win with my wit, so I'll do that instead."

"I've faith in you, akhi. But knowing you, your strategies are reckless sometimes." Yusuf lifts a glass of water to his lips, taking a sip. "What crazy scheme is it this time?"

"There are certain conditions I've in mind. We could negotiate with Sulaiman upon those."

"He wants the caliphate and no condition can deter him to back down."

"I know."

Yusuf arches an inquisitive eyebrow, studying him for a moment before asking curiously, "You'll abdicate the throne?"

"Only to secure it and reclaim it for myself." He laughs.

There's a desert inside her like that on the outside. There's a lack of home and a thirst she cannot quench. The world has been hot and dusty and its winds have been cruel all along. Her heart has been a nomad wandering in search, hoping to find something to its fancy. She thought she did. She thought she stumbled upon a home and her heart united with its beloved. She learns she was wrong.

The sharp arches of his brows frame his eyes in a way that signify nothing less than displeasure and domination. The terse pull of his features highlight his emotions. His lips remain in a thin line and his gaze pierce through everyone it falls upon-- cutting and stabbing like a knife. And even though she has seen him in many shades, from that of their encounter when he was distant to when she made an rival of him, but this side of him is baffling and eerie to her. She cannot find it in herself to keep staring at him. Instead, she steals glances at him.

Adam holds his sword before him, swinging it effortlessly before resting it on the floor and leaning forward on it, his eyes finding his vizier. The silence in the courtroom is dense like a fog. She can barely breathe, and the rest of the members present seem to share her apprehension except for Yusuf bin Khalid and Arwa bint Atta, both of whom have seated themselves comfortably and waiting for the drama to proceed.

"How could you give orders to capture my wife?"

Ameer Zakariya shakes his head at him, not intimidated by him like the rest of others. Instead, dealing with him like a fatherly figure.

"I only asked for her to be presented before me so she could tell me about the accident that happened with the Amira."

"You sent soldiers after her."

"She's the offender in this case, sayidi, that too against Maysoon bint Khalid. What did you expect me to do?"

"She was attacked. What she did, she did in her defense. I was there to deal with it myself. Nothing gave anyone the right to interfere."

"Sayidi," Muawwiz intervenes, coming to the vizier's defense. "The Ameer was only following the rules of the court. We didn't know about the actual matter so--"

"The Ameer knew who she is to me," Adam cuts him off. "He knew the implications of any order disagreeable to me."

"He was only doing his job--"

"Quiet!" Adam tilts his head towards him, his focus shifting. Then, he chuckles darkly, nearly terrifying her with the way it sounds disturbing, flicking his tongue at the corner of his mouth. "I've been a very tolerant man so far, as you can tell every time you called me a slave but I forgave you each time, when I could have shoved a hot iron rod down your throat or simply rip out your tongue. But I didn't, for the services of your father to my family; I regard him highly. And now for the debt of my life and my wife's too that I owe you." He then shrugs and drags his swords across the floor, leisurely moving to take a seat. "But even patience has a limit, you know? So don't test mine. I told you before, the Khalifa can do as he pleases, rules broken or whatsoever." His gaze then sweeps across everyone in the room, declaring loudly and meaningfully, "I am the Khalifa. Tell me, which one of you is willing to stand against me?"

No one dares to speak a word. His attention switches back to his vizier who tips his head at him respectfully.

"You know the lady wouldn't have been caused any harm," Zakariya clarifies. "I know I'm accountable for my actions, but there are customs of the court we've to uphold. This isn't a petty affair to be overlooked."

"If I weren't present to deal with it myself, you could've proceeded as you'd have seen fit. But while I was here, every step that was made required my permission, especially something as grave which involved my wife," Adam replies. And though she peeks at him subtly, she notices he avoids looking at her. The reason is both simple yet complicated to her.

"Sayidi, I'm well aware of your concerns and I understand them. You honor the lady, we honor the lady. But--"

He lifts his fist, silencing him. Whatever explanation he has isn't allowed to be made and the vizier simply lowers his gaze.

"I don't doubt your intention. I know you mean well, and I know you're bound to honor the rules of the court too," Adam admits. "But now when everything is out in the open, then everyone listen to me, and listen well." This time, he looks at her, only fleetingly, but boldly and intensely, with a hue in his orbs so deep it pulls her into another world. "If you dignify your Khalifa, you'll dignify your Malika." His gaze flicks back away swiftly. "Fail me only if the grave is dearer to you than your life. I might show mercy on my behalf and forgive, but I'll bury you alive if Noura Al Makhzum is disregarded even in the slightest way."

She doesn't know how to feel about his proclamations. She doesn't know whether to name it hypocrisy or love when he himself is her culprit. It's hard for her to think straight when the man in front of her is savage and unfamiliar to her in ways more than she can count.

"We understand, sayidi," Zakariya replies. "What are your orders regarding the matter?"

"Yusuf will decide what actions are to be taken regarding his sister. I'm fine with whatever he chooses to do. As for the queen, she's innocent. What she did, she did in her defense. The matter is dismissed for her."

Noura finds his addressing her as a queen difficult to swallow. Her sight involuntarily falls upon Arwa in the courtroom and finds her staring back at her. There's an intangible look on her face which she cannot unravel, but she doesn't get time to linger upon it as Yusuf bin Khalid stands up from his seat. He ties his hands behind his backs, his voice calm and leveled as he makes his announcement.

"I'll decide about Maysoon once I talk about the incident with her. But I'll take Arwa with me and leave. It's better she stays with me than at the palace."

"You can stay at the palace with her if it eases your worries," Adam suggests.

"It won't comfort me," he refuses. "Nothing is dearer to me than my family. And I'm not willing to take chances with her life or my child's anymore."

Adam only nods in agreement, his gaze lingering on Arwa who gives him a feeble smile. Noura can still not fathom their relationship, but one thing she realizes is that it probably never has been what she had gathered. The prince never had an affair with the queen. He only used her misunderstanding against her. And thus charmingly so fooled her.

"Also," Yusuf continues, "about the situation with my brother, then I leave it to Adam what he finds the most fitting as the acting caliph to decide regarding Sulaiman. As your ruler if you've ever honored me, then I hope you'll submit to Al Shafay as your ruler too. I've passed the authority to him. He's a prince, my blood, and not a slave. All of you are requested to forget about the unfortunate past and stand by your caliph during these difficult times."

All the men place their fists on their hearts to show their devotion and obedience.

"I thank you." Yusuf smiles at them. "May the power fall in hands deserving of it."

"Ameen," a collective roar echos from the audiences.

"May the throne finds a Khalifa who rules over this kingdom justly by the virtue of his Lord."

"Ameen."

"May the crown remains on your head as long as you live, our king," the vizier directs to Adam who nods in acknowledgment.

"May our Lord guide us and favor us against the enemy." He raises his sword. "I choose peace over war. But if we find ourselves against the enemy in battlegrounds, than the brave might live and the cowards and traitors will die at my hands. So whatever path you choose for yourselves, choose wisely."

"We stand by you, sayidi" Taha ibn Amr calls out. "We're loyal to you. May our blood be at your sword if we betray our king."

"Allah be with you, my prince," Arwa adds, standing up too beside her husband. "May you remain victorious."

She watches Adam taking a deep breath and nodding at her before turning back to his men. "Send a messenger to Sulaiman for negotiations. We'll discuss further affairs tomorrow morning. The court is dismissed. Daud?"

"Yes, sayidi?"

"Escort the lady to her chambers," he commands without looking at her.

Daud does as he's asked to do, and Noura complies quietly. She finds herself too beguiled to be able to understand anything anymore. She never got an opportunity to fight back when she was defeated right in the beginning of this battle against the caliph.

What even made her think she could escape Al Shafay? A man who could rule anonymously so long despite all hindrances, what chance did she have against him if he willed something for her? She only consoled herself by believing she had bluffed him when it was only otherwise. She was only fighting a lost battle.

When she's left alone at her chamber, the stars in the sky has already made an appearance. The clouds are a frail veil sewn and torn apart every few minutes over the moon. The moon in all its glory is only a crescent away from its prime. But it doesn't make a difference to her-- against a light so bright, how her eyes can see that which is hidden? Some things are far away, and just because our fingers can outline their reflections doesn't mean we have touched them, felt them, or known them. Such things remain a mystery to us.

He has been one such illusion to her-- too far away to be touched, only a dwindling shadow to be followed, and never to be held into her hands. And though she knew she hasn't yet disentangled his intricacy, she never knew she'd be entwined into his being only to be estranged like this-- left lost into his labyrinth. She hoped he wouldn't leave her alone.

"Baba, why do those we love hurt us?" She looks up at the sky, placing a hand over the pendant her father has given her, the name of God cold beneath her palm. "Some of them might cheat us, others leave us." She closes her eyes and leans forward on the handrail on her balcony. The breeze of the night bites her skin. "Why did you leave me, baba? Why did Eskander change? Why did Adam cheat me? How do I keep forgiving, keep forgiving, but not forget?"

She sniffs as her tears push through, then wipes her cheeks with the back of her hands. She slides down to the floor against the handrail and brings her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them.

"Maman, I'm lonely, and I'm breaking. I want to lie in your lap and cry. I want to forget. I want to be with you, mother."

The air falls still. The night is silent. She finds no comfort in it. She tries to hold herself together. But nothing feels right. And she feels cold.

"Every pain has an end, dukhtar. Your Lord loves the patient. He'll reward you. He'll reunite us."

She remembers the words of her mother when she reassured her. She remembers her being so strong against the circumstances when her father departed. She idealized her.

"Butterflies and roses," Noura softly sings to herself, recalling the times when she was young and her father would narrate to her stories. "Nightingales in proses."

When the walls of the palace wouldn't close upon her like her ribs upon her heart. When the butterflies sought roses and roses sought nightingales to sing to them.

"All the world fades away / Love is only what must stay."

When no one lied in the name of love to her. When love was eternal and she wasn't left without those who loved her or whom she loved.

"She is who he chooses / He is who she chooses."

When every tale was a fairytale with happy endings and she was innocent to learn the reality of life. She misses that time. She craves for it. The longing burns withing her like a mad fire.

"Caliph to his queen proposes," someone continues the poem for her, and nostalgia hits her like a sword thrusted into her chest. Her head jerks up, and her eyes collide with those mirroring the midnight sky. "The army marches on horses."

His words ring bells loud and familiar to her. She stares at him in amazement as he steps towards her, coming to fall to his knees before her. His voices is gentle as he sings to her.

"All the world may betray / Heart is what you shall obey."

He reaches forward, his touch a mere caress as he nimbly tucks back her hair behind her ear. Mesmerized, Noura can only listen as he finishes what has left her memory long before.

"She is who he chooses / He is who she chooses."

The song dies between them, but what it births is anew flame. She stays still like a statue as her gaze swims into his orbs, watching ruins and havoc, causing more destruction than what is already done. Noura swallows dryly and he once more reaches out for her. This time, he cups the side of her face and his thumb strokes her cheek in slow motion.

"Don't cry."

His request surprises her and she blinks, only making more tears to fall from her eyes. She rushes to brush them off and hide them away.

"I'm not."

"I'm a fool in your love, but I'm not blind to your suffering," he speaks achingly. "Noura," he cranes his neck closer, "you're the solace of my heart. Wallahi, you're the remedy to my pain."

"And my pain, sayidi?" she asks weakly.

He pulls away to look at her again. "Name my punishment, and I'll gladly die at your hands."

She smiles and shakes her head. "I don't have any right over you."

"Don't say that, habibti. I'll go miles to fulfill your wishes."

He inches closer and she instinctively pulls away. "You scare me," she croaks, her voice carrying a tremble in it. "I don't know you."

"Noura." His muscles go taut and he clenches his eyes shut, taking a moment before he sighs and relaxes himself. Then he comes to settle beside her on the balcony floor and lean back against the handrail. "Allow me to tell you everything from the beginning, farasha."

✵

Two more chapters to go.

I know you guys are impatient for every next update but we're left with very little now. So enjoy the wait because I might just take a break from writing after Khalifa and the wait to Malika might be longer. But I really, really have an ugly schedule and keeping up with Wattpad is becoming difficult, especially when it has been months and it's still down in my country.

✵