Chapter 11
Trapped, like a dove in a golden cage.
Yet there was solace in her captivity, for her prison was disguised as paradise.
Laila had refused to move, an act of protest as she felt the discomfort of her new abode.
She remained still in bed, her muscles aching to move as they began to grow exhausted of the stillness.
Perhaps if she pretended for long enough, she would awake in Al-Shujae.
A foolish thought for a sensible woman.
"You are indeed stubborn." A harsh voice suddenly echoed around the room, tight as it was haughty, demanding Laila's attention.
She found herself blinking when her eyes were forced open from a sudden light.
"Who?-" she began to question, sitting up only to see a short old woman standing before her.
Any words to be said were silenced as she stared in confusion.
"Who are you?" Laila finally asked, politely.
"Introductions will be later, remove yourself from this bed immediately." The woman pulled the blanket from Laila, immediately causing goose bumps to appear on her bare arms.
"Wait!" she stopped, attempting to pull the blanket back to no avail. Their conversation was cut short as a familiar face entered the room.
"Hafsa?" Laila stood from the bed, embracing her lost friend tightly. Hafsa returned the gesture, holding her saviour close.
"Where have you been?" Laila asked, her eyes turning towards the older woman who was carefully watching them both.
Perhaps she was a spy for the sultan?
"I will explain everything in due time," Hafsa offered a smile, her face seeming maturer than the last time they had met.
She turned towards the older woman who was waiting patiently for their greeting to end.
"Wash yourself up and eat." She ordered, leaving the room.
"Who is she?" Laila asked Hafsa, not used to being spoken with so harshly.
Since her arrival, she had been treated with the utmost regard.
"I hear she is one of the oldest working maids. The others say she was the wet nurse of the children of the original sultan. She has a lot of respect here."
Laila's eyes widened.
She was like a mother to the sultan?
"I was too disrespectful!" Hafsa shushed her quickly, embracing her again.
"I am so glad I found you Laila! For a moment, I thought I would never see you again" Laila smiled, a genuine smile she had not found for a while.
"What happened to you?" she asked. Hafsa shook her head, "First wash and then we will talk."
------
It's too early for this.
Usman thought; abruptly woken from his broken slumber by a shaky servant.
He had been summoned by the sultan. A rare order for this time of day as even Sultan Amir was usually courteous of time.
Usman sighed, his legs aching to return to the quarters he had spent the night.
As much as he fought it, he could not remove her from his mind.
Had she bewitched him?
Surely the Al-Shujae were not so far gone that they would practise magic.
He cleared the thought from his mind before leaving for the great hall.
"Sheikh Usman." He suddenly stopped, turning to find Firdaus, the daughter of the Sultan.
"I see my father has summoned you too." She bowed in respect. Usman raised his brows.
"Formality does not suit you Firdaus."
"I presumed I should grant you the deserved respect considering you are married now." They glanced at each other before smiling in unison.
"It is good to see you."
"And you too."
She stayed back, allowing him to enter first.
Their father awaited them, staring off into the gardens besides his throne.
"Sultan." Usman placed his hand on his chest in greeting. Amir turned, taking in the image before him.
"Sit." He ordered, shortly following suit.
The sultan blinked, looking towards Usman and then Firdaus.
"A while ago, I spoke to you both of duty."
"Your responsibility towards this tribe, and to me." Amir chuckled,
"Of course, you both agreed that your loyalty to me was above all."
Firdaus bit her tongue, glancing at Usman.
"Well today, you will honour that promise."
"We shall rid ourselves of the girl soon." A mention of Laila grasped Usman. He sat up slightly, capturing the Sultan's attention.
Amir raised his brow.
"And you two will be wed."
"Fathe-"
"Do not speak out-of-turn!" He silenced his daughter.
It was still as they began to understand the given command.
"This blood will remain pure, I will not have it tainted. Your useless mother failed to give me a son, so I have chosen one instead." Firdaus clenched her fists, turning to Usman for support. But he was staring into the distant gardens.
"Usman." She whispered in need.
"As you wish, Sultan." He finally spoke as Amir sneered. Firdaus shook her head, forcing herself to stay silent.
"Good. Now that is all. Leave."
They both stood, quiet as they exited.
Upon reaching a safe distance, Firdaus furiously turned.
"Usman, have you lost your mind? I will not marry you!" She shouted. Usman rubbed his hand on his face, distressed.
"We haven't a choice. It is what the Sultan wishes."
Firdaus groaned in frustration.
"We both know who my father truly is. And as much as it pains me to say it, he is not a good man." She sighed, placing her hands by her side.
"After what he did to my mother, I thought he could not get worse." She felt her heart sink
Her mother.
Whose only crime was to marry her father.
"Laila of Al-Shujae. I have seen her. She... She is not what they say." Usman glanced at Firdaus. "And what do they say?" he asked.
Firdaus shrugged.
"That she is inherently evil like her father."
Usman chuckled. Evil, perhaps.
"You have good judgement."
"So you will not speak well of her?" Firdaus questioned, or interrogated. He shook his head.
"We have bigger issues than of my wife."
"Your wife could provide a resolution."
"No. I have to find out what the Sultan has planned. Maybe there's something we can do to change his mind."
Firdaus chuckled, almost pitying the man before her.
"Well, I wish you the best of luck." She bowed, turning towards Laila's quarters.
"Where are you going?" He asked, curious.
"I think it's time I introduced myself."
-
"You stayed with Maryam?" Laila asked as Hafsa braided her hair.
"Yes, her home is very nice. I wonder if you would be allowed to visit." Hafsa finished her braid, admiring her handiwork.
"I have only practised a couple of times but I did good."
"How did you get into the palace?" The question threw Hafsa off guard, her expression immediately dropping.
"At first I was not permitted and I had no place to go after we arrived here. I tried to look for a familiar face but I got lost in the crowd when you left." Laila scrunched her brows, ashamed that she had not searched for her friend sooner.
"Maryam was searching for me in the bazaar the next day, she brought me to her home and fed me."
A kindness that Hafsa could not forget.
"But I knew I could not stay, I had to return to you."
Laila felt her cheeks warm, grateful for an unexpected friendship.
She felt Hafsa take her hands, "It was Sheikh Usman who told Maryam to find me. He allowed me to stay here as your handmaiden."
She bit her lip.
Surely not. Surely Usman wouldn't have gone to such lengths to bring back her friend.
"Hafsa I-"
A knock sounded in the room, interrupting their conversation.
"You speak to your maid as though she is your friend." Laila looked up, the sudden voice catching her attention.
A girl, seeming her own age, stood in the doorway.
Her eyes immediately caught her attention, the colour of sea blue, yet holding the rage of fire.
She was beautiful.
"Who are you?" Laila asked, dropping her hands from Hafsa's.
The girl stepped into the room, looking around in curiosity. Her eyes then turned to Laila, scanning her as though she was an item to be sold.
"Forgive me, I am Firdaus. Daughter of Sultan Amir." Her tone stayed guarded.
Laila glanced at Hafsa, gesturing for her to leave them.
There had been no mention of the sultan having a daughter. Not that she should have expected to know anything about the family of Usman.
"I am Laila of Al-Shujae."
Firdaus nodded. She took a seat on a table beside the balcony, waving for Laila to join her as though she was now the guest in the room.
Laila hesitated, nervous around the strangely confident young woman.
Nevertheless, being a woman did not make her any different from the rest of her blood. She accepted the offer, seating herself across from Firdaus.
"I know who you are, Laila of Al-Shujae." Firdaus offered a smile. "I'd like to apologise for not greeting you sooner."
It was silent before she replied.
"It is not like I have come in the best of circumstances, I am a prisoner here. Prisoners do not need greetings."
Firdaus released a short laugh, her head fell back, sighing before looking back at Laila in humour.
"Are you a prisoner here, or are you the freest you have ever been?"
Freest she had ever been?
Had Laila ever seen an inch of land outside of Al-Shujae before her marriage? She had not even known her own tribe well enough to earn their sympathies. Laila bit her tongue, bitter for the painful truth.
This was the freest she had ever been.
They stared at each other in knowingness.
"What do women like us know of freedom?"
So they were more alike than she had thought.
Women like us. Whose life was to serve others.
Firdaus stilled. A woman who could be stolen from her child for no fault other than life.
A life that did not even live.
"I can only hope for your resilience. My father, he is very trying." Firdaus chuckled.
"And my adopted brother, he is... far worse."
Laila glanced up at the mention of Usman, her visitor noticing the spike in interest.
"Not worse in the way you think-"
"Firdaus."
Their faces quickly turned to the doorway where Lady Balqees stood. Her hands were tightly held on a wooden walking stick as she looked from Firdaus to Laila.
Firdaus immediately stood up from her seat, bowing her head out of respect. "Lady Balqees," she greeted.
"You have missed your morning studies." Lady Balqees sent a knowing look to the young girl.
'Ah, yes." Firdaus sighed, facing Laila with sympathy.
"Apologies Laila. I will take your leave now." She bowed her head slightly before leaving.
So, this was the power of Lady Balqees. She nodded to the old woman, watching her exit as Hafsa returned to the room.
"I did not know he had a sister." She referred to Usman, thinking of their interaction the night before.
Her regret was not that she had asked him to leave, it was that she had admitted her weakness.
That, she was beginning to confide in him.
Why did he act with caution? Why did they treat her well?
She would rather be held in the dungeons than to be trapped in a paradise where she could no longer recognise her own enemies.
Friend or foe?
She no longer knew.
"Shall we visit the gardens?" Hafsa asked, noticing the disdain on her face. Laila slowly nodded, needing to escape to wherever she could.
Surrounded by flowers, a soft breeze in the air. How did the palace harbour such beauty when outside was only a vast desert?
"Laila! You know there are private training grounds here? Would you like to see them?" Hafsa jumped up, remembering Laila's combatting skills.
It had been too long since she had practised. The last time was prior to the siege, when it was common for her to meet with Abdul and practise the art of battle.
Their time together went deep into the evenings. Even her stepmother, Asiyah, sometimes came to watch, delighted at their childish fights. It was the only joy she had known, before everything changed.
The training ground was practically an empty sand pit.
She looked around, hearing sounds of a shooting arrow. Her friend had already abandoned her, speaking of flowers to tend to. Laila was afraid that perhaps her rescued companion had grown a new fondness of her husband.
A fondness enough to leave her alone in his company.
She saw him before he did her.
Concentration in his eyes as he deliberated where to release his next arrow. Maybe he was imagining her face on the red dot. Laila laughed at the thought, unaware that she had captured his attention.
She covered her mouth in shock, him looking to her in amusement.
"I cannot seem to find a moment of peace." He lowered the bow, giving her his full attention.
"I didn't mean to intrude." She wished to apologise but could not find the correct words to say. He raised his brow, gesturing towards the bow in his hand.
"Have you ever shot an arrow"
She cocked her head. "I think maybe once with Abdu-" she suddenly paused, noticing his gaze darken.
"Come here."
Laila stilled, wary of his command.
He continued to look her way, patiently waiting. Holding her breath, Laila walked towards him.
She did not have a moment to prepare as he swiftly took hold of her, positioning her hand on the handle of his bow. He paused before using her other hand to draw the bowstring back, until she felt herself moulded to him.
Laila breathed in, curling her shoulders. She felt the hardness of his body against hers.
He would have seemed oblivious if not for him being so perfectly still.
"Concentrate on your target."
He lowered his head, so close to her ear that she could hear his light breaths. He almost whispered the words which would have seemed innocent to anyone around.
How could she concentrate when her heart was racing?
Laila blinked, trying to focus on the board before them. She extended her arm, pushing Usman away with her elbow before recklessly releasing the arrow.
It landed somewhere, she did not know. All she knew was that the air around them had suddenly boiled.
Usman released a breath of astonishment.
"Well shot." She looked up, finding that the arrow had directly hit the target.
"I did not think it would hit."
"Neither did I." He was quick to respond, surprise in his tone.
Laila turned. "And why did you not?" She questioned. He shrugged.
"You were shaking."
Laila scoffed. "I wasn't!" passionately denying him.
He grinned, taking her wrist before placing his fingers on top of her pulse.
Who knew this trick would come in handy one day.
Laila struggled against his hold as he attempted to keep her still. With his fingers against her wrist, he read her heartbeat.
Her fight was silenced watching his eyes close in concentration. "Laila." He silently said, eyes still closed.
She hummed in reply.
"Do not speak of him before me again."
She bit her tongue, immediately knowing who he meant.
Abdul.
"I consider myself a patient man." He opened his eyes.
"But never has my patience been tested such that I wish to destroy everything from the mention of a single name." His hold tightened as he looked to her for agreement.
She hesitated.
"Let go of me."
Usman exhaled before releasing her. She did not wait, turning and escaping the training grounds.
His hands clenched to his side, he summoned the entirety of his willpower to not follow her into the coming darkness.
What was becoming of him?