The grandeur of the main hall was particularly spectacular today. The soft sound of the drums entrancing the number of men who had come to be captivated by the beauty of a single woman.
Laila stiffened, her eyes refusing to explore as she approached the sultan. She had bought only Wafiyyah with her, Hafsa still being too unwell to accompany anyone.
The arrogant leader leaned back on his chair, baring an expression of anticipation, his eyes glowered deep into the girl before him.
As though he knew something she didn't.
Laila could not help but drop her gaze, powerless to cope with the evil of his stare.
"I am pleased to see you have accepted my invitation."
As if you gave me an option, she thought.
"Laila?!" A shocked voice sounded from behind her. Usman approached them in fury, seeing red as the room of men fell back into their corners. Sultan Amir merely opened his arms wide.
"Usman, my son! Late as usual." His welcome was cut short as Usman immediately felt for Laila's hand, dragging her behind him.
"What is she doing here?" he asked. Amir snickered,
"It was an official invitation from myself." He stated whilst raising his brows, daring his servant.
Laila felt it, the fury.
Usman was almost shaking, gripping her hand tightly as he formed his own in a fist.
"This is no place for a woman." He asserted through gritted teeth.
"Not a common woman." The sultan immediately replied.
"She will stay." He ordered as Usman abruptly turned to leave.
"I said, she will stay. Do you hear me Usman?"Amir stated. Her husband froze, unmoving. She felt her hand begin to fall as his grip loosened.
Please don't, she wanted to plead.
I'm right here, he squeezed her hand.
Dropping his hold, he turned to face his sultan.
"As you wish." Usman conceded.
Amir gestured to his left, inviting Laila to sit beside him. She hesitated, looking towards her husband who only nodded.
Reluctantly did as she was told, watching as Usman sat across from her on the opposite side of the room.
It was silent, the small talk diminishing as the oil lamps were dimmed and a set of curtains were opened to reveal a slim figure.
Her face was covered by a sheer, shiny material, accentuating her kohl lined eyes.
She wore clothes which should have been barred for any respectable woman, the shape of her body hypnotising as it moved against the beat of the drums, the sound of a flute and tambourines softly joining it.
Her eyes were everywhere, yet nowhere. As though she had charmed even herself.
The dance she performed was not for those outside of female company. It was forbidden for the lustful eyes of men; and yet the woman sinned.
Laila found shame in her stare, eyes falling to the ground as she questioned her invitation to such impudence.
She forced the frown on her husband, him refusing to meet her, despite knowing of the disappointment.
She ached to leave, wanting to follow her instincts when suddenly a hard hand fell on her wrist, forcing her still. She raised her head, instantly meeting the eyes of the sultan.
"Where are you going Amirah, the party has only just begun," he whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the absorbing music.
Laila struggled against his hold, praying for help from Usman who was no longer in his place. She felt a chill down her spine, her body heating as an unknown fear began to form in the pit of her stomach.
"Where is he?" Laila asked, her heart racing. The sultan shrugged innocently, releasing her. Laila looked around, searching for at least Wafiyyah. But alas, her friend was also missing.
"Enough of this." She declared, her body shaking as she forced herself to stand. A smirk was planted on the sultan's face.
"You are free to leave." He dismissed with a wave of his hand.
Laila scowled at the man in shame, the leader of the Al-Muharibun was a criminal, a sinner.
She attempted to escape, her legs moving faster as she was continuously blocked by the bodies of lustful men. They were not of themselves, seeming drunk as they continued to hunger for the dancer before them.
Her fear intensified as she was abruptly stopped by a hard grip. Her body froze, turning slowly to meet red, drooping eyes. Abbas swayed before her, a sneer on his face. He smelt of a forbidden substance. Alcohol.
She could not forget the smell of the liquid they used in the infirmaries.
Laila struggled, yet no matter how hard she tried, her strength was not as great as the power of a fully-grown warrior.
"Release me!" She ordered to no avail. Abbas merely laughed, dragging her to the hub of the room. "Let go!" she ordered, searching around for someone, anyone... Usman.
But he was nowhere to be found.
Her body was suddenly flung to the centre, the dancer jumping back at the unexpected commotion. Laila stumbled onto the ground, her veil falling as the hungry stare of men dropped onto her.
She looked around in panic, her mouth opening to call only one name.
"Usman," she whispered, yet it echoed around the silent room. Laughter consumed the walls as Abbas came forward.
"He will not come for you." He taunted, continuing his arrogant walk.
"Why would he come for a token of revenge." He forced her down as she attempted to stand.
"The illegitimate child of a disgraced princess, you are a shame to this tribe." Abbas spat to his side, disgust as his expression when he abruptly leaned down, caressing the terrified face before him.
"Although you did inherit her beauty." The statement triggered the cheers of the men around Laila, humiliating her as tears began to form in her eyes.
"What...What do you mean?" her shaky voice was only just heard above the noise. Abbas shook his head, sighing in annoyance.
"Do you even know who you are?" He asked cynically. Laila struggled against his hold when she was forced still by his hand on her shoulder.
"You are the daughter of a dishonourable princess of this tribe, the sister of the sultan herself." She stopped her battle, the world suddenly halting.
"The wench ran away with your father and produced the greatest stain to Al-Muharibun... You." Laila stayed frozen, unable to process the words spilling out of Abbas' mouth.
"N-no." She barely managed to say, shaking her head. Abbas nodded in return, mocking her expression.
"Y-Yes. You know why Usman married you?" He asked sarcastically. Laila did not move.
"He married for revenge. To avenge his tribe, to humiliate your worthless father...and to disgrace you." Laila shook her head rapidly, feeling her heartbeat race as the room began to spin.
"No!" She shouted, attempting to stand.
"You are lying!" she screamed, her eyes searching for only one person. Instead, she met the gaze of the sultan. A boastful smirk on his face as he leaned back on his throne.
She knew from his arrogant stare.
It was true.
"No." Her murmur was barely audible.
"Victory to our warrior Usman. Al-Shujae is now ours!" Abbas shouted as the room erupted in cheers. Laila trembled, falling into darkness, a blanket suddenly covered her as she was gently put back on her feet.
Usman? Her eyes yearned, finding only the dancing girl holding her instead, pulling her out of the room.
"Close your eyes." She whispered to Laila as her world began to turn black.
It was all a lie.
--
Usman pushed his hand through his hair, annoyed as the intruder before him gave up his bow and arrow.
He raised his brow, knowing of the dagger hidden behind the boy's leg.
He was barely sixteen in age and yet he had attempted to disrupt the safety of the palace. Usman was more than annoyed when he was suddenly called by the guards to capture a trespasser. He has been silently watching his wife's uncomfortable stance. She was terrified, and all he wanted was to pull her out of there.
It was not unknown for the sultan to hold these 'parties'. Exotic dancers were invited to entertain the perverted minds of 'so-called' honourable sheikhs. He was furious upon seeing Laila, needing her to leave in order to feel even the slightest peace.
She was too good, too innocent to be in a den of hyenas. If not for the Sultan's threatening words, none would have stopped him. He knew the sultan, disobedience would result in punishment. Not for him, but for his wife.
It was not fear which forced him to yield, but rather he needed more time.
Regardless, Laila being placed right beside his adopted father forced him on the edge.
That woman had truly made him crazy.
"Usman, what do we do with him?" A voice interrupted his thoughts. Usman almost roared in fury.
"I should tear his heart out for choosing this night to intrude." His words forced a shudder down the young boy's spine. He leaned down his leg to grab the hidden dagger, giving it up to the guards on the side.
"Remind me why you could not handle this rat on your own?" Usman questioned, furious at the incompetence. The men around him shrugged, startled as Usman suddenly took hold of one's collar, pulling him forward.
"Next time I witness such stupidity, everyone involved will be forced back into training with me as their instructor. Understood?" They frantically nodded their heads, afraid to speak a word.
"And you." Usman faced the boy. "You will be put into one of juvenile training groups, we could find use for your stealth." The boy's mouth dropped open as be began to stutter.
"B-but-" silenced as Usman raised his hand and waved at the guards, ushering them away.
He sighed in annoyance, swiftly turning to return to his wife when he was abruptly stopped by a running guard.
"Usman!" he called, signalling him. "The sultan calls you." He gave the message as Usman suddenly froze.
He knew it.
He should have never left.
His legs began to move on their own, sprinting towards the great hall. He felt his heart beat hard, panting when arriving to see the men around him in a drunken mess.
Fools, he thought.
No, you are the fool. For leaving your wife when she was most vulnerable. How thoughtless could you be? He wanted to beat himself for his stupidity, searching for Laila anywhere.
"You won't find her." The sultan approached. "The truth was revealed to her. It's only right she finally learns her place." Amir sniggered as the ones around them joined him.
He saw red, unable to hold back as he launched at the closest man to him. His victim fell to the floor, covering himself as Usman fell into a fit of rage.
He could feel people attempting to pull him off, yet all he saw was the smugness of the sultan in the man before him. Blow after blow, he did not stop.
"Usman! It was not him, it was Abbas!" he heard someone shout in desperation.
Abbas?
Usman looked up, his accusing eyes falling onto the sultan.
It was planned from the beginning. He was meant to be distracted and leave so they could reveal the truth to Laila. Abbas would never deny Amir. He stood, approaching his true nemesis.
How he wanted to destroy the one who had hurt her.
How he would not hesitate to slit the throat of the man who had bought her harm.
"Where.is.she?" Usman asked. Amir merely shrugged, infuriating him more.
"When I find the one responsible, it will be between me and him." It was a warning, not to Abbas, but to the sultan himself.
There would be no mercy.
"Your princess left with the performing whore." The sultan signalled him away. Usman could not stop himself, following faded footsteps as he tried to reach his wife.
To see her before it was too late.
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