11| Happy Tayyab

Assalamo alaikum ❤ how was your day?

H A P P Y    T A Y Y A B

The original structure of the palace had been built nearly three hundred years ago, by a king with a flair for extravagance. In the years since, many wings had been added to augment the base of marble and limestone. They branched off like tributaries, winding toward an unseen destination far in the distance.

It would be easy to get lost in such a place.

The guards stalked alongside Hayat, their posture as rigid and implacable as their expression. After several minutes of traversing in silence, they came to an open-air gallery with a series of arched double doors leading to Tayyab's wing.

Hayat's heart had been thumping really fast.

If they were caught, she knew Aziz would have her executed and later after Zehra's delivery, he would execute her too.

It had been exactly one and a half week since Tayyab had tried to basically kill her. He hadn't once been to her chamber again. Her wounds had been healing real quick, she no more required the bandages. Hakeem Salim had only given her an ointment made of herbs that she had to apply twice, in the morning and in the evening. Heba jaan took it upon herself to ensure that Hayat followed all the instructions carefully.

Hayat had received another scroll. The rebels were asking her for information and she had none.

Zehra and Leila had walked alongside her, they were as restless as Hayat.

It had been twenty-four hours since the whole palace had found out about Zehra's pregnancy. Aziz had been rejoicing and Zehra's stay had been extended for nine months. Zehra had been crying her eyes out. Hayat had tried to console her but she just wouldn't stop crying.

Zehra had confessed that she would rather commit suicide than abandon her child. They were finally providing Zehra with a lavish room all the other amenities that only the royals could enjoy. She would no longer have to work as Hayat's maid but all of this wouldn't last and they all knew it. These amenities were not for Zehra but for Aziz's child.

Hayat, Heba jaan and Leila had tried to comfort her. They finally made plans to help Zehra flee from the palace.

"There are many hidden paths in Tayyab's tower. I know one of those since I accidentally reached it. It's in the terrace, behind a portrait of King Zubair. If you push it, a secret passage will open. I think it leads out of the palace but only royalty can go to that terrace, it belongs to Tayyab. You have to be careful. I know that every Juma, Tayyab goes out of the palace early in the morning and everyone else sleeps. That's your only chance of escape." Heba jaan had explained.

Hayat had been looked upon as a hero in the palce, her status had been elevated. She knew she'd be allowed through his tower because she was his wife and also because the king had been very happy with her. He had even sent her a casket full of jewels.

An attendant pushed through one set of doors to allow them passage, and Hayat walked into a terraced courtyard arranged like colossal steps in a descending staircase.

She had asked her guards to leave. They had looked at each other in hesitation but gladly didn't defy.

The first of these terraces was filled with flowering trees and an elaborate aviary enclosed on all sides. The sturdy acacia wood was covered with a thin layer of white paint and anchored by bolts of polished bronze. Lush blue-green grass flourished between pave stones of coarse granite.

Hayat strode past the aviary, glancing at the colorful trove of songbirds flittering within: nightingales, goldfinches, larks, canaries.

A loud squawk blasted from behind her. She twisted around to find a peacock strutting across the lawn, his plumage of malachite and gold fanning in the sun, catching errant beams of light.

Her mind had drifted to the dreadful possibilities.

If they were caught, everything would be doomed and if she let the royal family oppress another innocent, she'd call herself an oppressor too.

These macabre thoughts rubbed at the edges of her composure, pushing her down into the fathomless realms of terror—a terror she’d managed to keep at bay, thus far.

When they reached the portrait, Hayat looked around carefully and found no one. She then pushed it just the way Heba jaan had instructed.

Almost immediately  the wall with the portrait had moved back with a thud. With a slight push, the door to a spiral staircase leading downwards had opened. Gladly torches were lit and it was not completely dark.

"Stay here. I'll help her down." Leila nodded her head in agreement. She stayed at the top of the staircase, whilst Hayat and Zehra walked down hurriedly. "Be careful." Hayat hushed as Zehra tripped a little. Hayat had been sweating and her shoulder had begun to pain but she ignored it.

"I will forever be indebted to you my lady." Zehra had cried.

The staircase had been never ending and Hayat had begun to doubt whether they would ever reach the end of it. Soon after the staircase ended, they found a tunnel at the end of which had been an opening that shone with sunlight.

Hayat's happiness had known no bounds. "I can go from here. Please go back my queen. You've already done enough for me."  They both had been panting.

"Here take this." Hayat unfasten her jewellery, that she knew would cost a fortune. "Look after yourself. Go! Hurry." She ushered Zehra to run.

After walking a few steps forward, Zehra rushed back and hugged her, tears of joy falling from her eyes.

Hayat had hugged her back.

Soon after Zehra ran towards the end of the tunnel. Hayat began to climb her way back hoping, praying that Zehra would reach some place safe and happiness would find her. Her back had felt like it was on fire.

Just a little more.

After a few steps she turned back to see if Zehra had reached the end of the tunnel.

She hadn't.

When Hayat turned back again to continue walking up the stairs, air seemed to have been knocked out of her as she came face to face with Tayyab, his expression cool and composed.

Tayyab stood a few steps above her. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard his footsteps.

Tayyab stared at her without giving a hint of what went through his mind. Hayat's feet had been planted firmly and it refused to move. She gulped down the lump that had formed in her throat.

Please Zehra run! Run faster!

Tayyab walked down the staircase, his posture calm, eyes glued to Hayat, his hands on either of his sides. When he reached a step above her's, he tore his gaze from her and looked behind her in the tunnel. He cocked an eyebrow as he spotted Zehra and Hayat felt her heart sink. She felt the air leave her chest in a single, sharp gasp.

All for nothing. The King would kill them all.

Hayat noticed the guard behind Tayyab, who looked more like a warrior. Tayyab turned towards his left and the warrior came forward to listen.

Tayyab whispered something into his ears, Hayat had no clue until the guard ran after Zehra. "Please don't. She's innocent." Hayat hated the way she had to beg the demon again. " Please! Not her. Have mercy for the sake of ALLAH."

"Go back to your room." He commanded with authority dismissing her plea. Hayat had wanted to pull her hair out of frustration and her face must have even given that away. Tayyab's brows had furrowed for merely a few seconds when he made an about turn and left before her.

Hayat looked behind herself, in the tunnel but she found no trace of Zehra or the guard.

They must have caught her.

Silent tears fell as she walked back to the terrace.

She failed again.

She failed no matter how hard she tried.

She felt the back of her shamla stick to her shoulder and she knew blood must have oozed out because of the activities.

Leila stood at the opening of the passageway and at the sight of Hayat, rushed to her. "I am sorry. I didn't know what to do. I tried to make excuses but the prince wouldn't listen. He just strode past me."

The walk back to her room had been done in a state of daze. Tayyab had probably gone back to the King to inform him of her deceit. The thought only made her fingers curl into a fist.

When the door to her chamber thudded shut behind her, Hayat sank to the floor and pressed her flaming cheek against the cool marble.

Even the release of tears involved too much effort.

Hebajaan had tried to comfort her saying that Tayyab would take care of it. Hayat had stared back in morose silence, wondering where such blind faith came from. Such misplaced faith in a boy with a murderous past.

At night, Hayat paced in her room out of anxiety. She had been in her room when she received the invitation to dine with the royal family. She didn't want to go because she had been stressed out. She had no clue why the royal guards had still not thrown her in the dungeons and Leila had told her that she had heard no news of Zehra.

Later in the dining hall, two rows of servants descended the open-armed staircases, bearing steaming trays above their heads. They marched in unison until they arrived before the dais, setting plates of food in front of each guest—aromatic rice with fresh dill and split fava beans, lamb simmered in a sauce of turmeric and caramelized onions, skewers of chicken and roasted tomatoes, fresh vegetables garnished with mint and chopped parsley, olives marinated in fine oil, lavash bread with rounds of goat cheese and seemingly endless sweet preserves.

“If it pleases our esteemed guests,” the announcer boomed from above, “dinner is served!”

Hayat had never seen so much food.

The air filled with the aroma of spices and the clamor of conversation.Tayyab began with some lavash bread and quince chutney, which had quickly become a favorite of hers too since she arrived at the palace. She chanced another perusal of the room. Her eyes lingered on Tayyab, but the moment he met her gaze, she averted her's. Aziz didn't seem to have noticed that the mother of his child was missing from the palace.

Tayyab poured himself a glass of sharbat and eased back onto the cushion, she had left her plate of food untouched. She didn't know where to begin. She wasn't comfortable either. Her mind had been racing and she'd felt that any moment she would be thrown into Zindaan.

Tayyab liked to play games but she didn't know what he had planned for her. She tried to calm herself and look normal.

"So Hayat, what a heroic act it had been on your part! I am truly amazed by your gallantry." Aziz stared at her with amusement. She shifted in her place uncomfortably. Heba jaan had cleaned the wound and applied the ointment on her shoulder yet her shoulder ached. "Yes! It was astonishing how none of the guards could have seen the assassins and our dear Hayat spotted them right on time." Hayat could deter the sarcasm in Altamash's voice. He was putting an allegation on her. Several gasps emanated from around them, rippling across the hall like a rumor being passed through a square. Umar released a pent-up breath followed by a low oath that garnered a look of warning from Ali who had been guarding the door.

"On the contrary dear uncle, I think what's more surprising is that how could the assassins enter Al Qasr without any internal help." Hayat had countered and Altamash's eyes had gleamed with feral hatred. A collective murmuring arose from the tables. A communal sigh of disbelief.

"We have been trying to look into it too and Insha ALLAH we'll find the one who did this." Umar spoke while eating from his plate.

"Insha Allah. Hopefully you will." Aziz had replied.

Tayyab had been seated on her left and  Zeenat, daughter of Abu Sulem, the governor of trade sat beside Tayyab. The entire time Zeenat had baited her curved lashes at Tayyab, trying to make him talk to her. Tayyab hadn't paid a heed to her existence, in fact he looked frustrated and looked away, his concentration had solely been on his glass of sharbat and if Hayat spoke honestly Tayyab's body had been inclined towards her seat, as if Zeenat's skin would burn his if came in contact. Out of  humiliation, she had stomped out, leaving her father outraged but all he could do was glare at Tayyab.

“Have you no appetite, Hayat?” Altamash raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps it has mysteriously disappeared. That can happen when one is troubled.”

Hayat ignored Altamash's attempt to bait her, choosing instead to take a sip of her sharbat.

“Or . . . is it possible you are concerned your food seeks to lash out at you in response to some inexplicable offense?” Altamash laughed at his own joke, winking at her.

Hayat's palm had begun to sweat. She was disgusted by him.

Tayyab had reached over and snared an olive from Hayat’s plate. Holding Altamash’s gaze, he popped the olive in his mouth and ate it. “Her food seems fine to me, uncle. I’m not certain which inexplicable offense you might be referencing, but rest assured, her food is quite safe,” Tayyab replied with a wink of his own and Hayat had only stared back at him in disbelief. “Would you like me to taste your food as well, Uncle?”

At that, Umar began barking with laughter, and even the King was forced to lower his grizzled chin.

The suggestion of a smile tugged at Aziz's lips.

Across the way, a cup was set down on the table with unwarranted vehemence.

Abu Sulem looked away with disdain, he hated the way Tayyab defended Hayat.

Altamash grinned at Tayyab. "I see my nephew has got his voice back.”

Tayyab stayed quiet.

"Tell me Tayyab, where exactly did you find  her? Perhaps she has a sister or two?" Hayat had wanted to throw her plate on his head, but she held on to her anger and forced herself to smile.

“Why would you be curious as to where he found me, my dear uncle? Are you in the market?” Hayat asked in a nonchalant manner.

Altamash’s brown eyes glittered. “Perhaps I should be but I was asking for Aziz. He could use a kaneez or two. Have you any relatives, my lady? Maybe a sister anybody in your family, alive?”

He knew she had nobody. So was he . . . threatening her?

Hayat had tilted her head to one side, tamping down a flare of sadness. "No uncle I have nobody.”

Altamash propped his elbows onto the table, studying Hayat with an amused yet predatory gleam.

Tayyab’s full attention was fixed on the vizier of Hudaan, and a taut band of muscle flexed in his forearm. His hand shifted in Hayat's direction. Conversation around them had all but ceased in recognition of the growing tension in the air.

“Then you must really  be scared. You must feel lonely and unprotected, no one to defend you. After all there are dangerous men in the palace." Altamash stated in a matter of fact tone. "Indeed there are." Hayat replied.

"I am dangerous too. Are you scared of me Hayat?" Altamash asked in a chillingly thoughtful tone.

Hayat swallowed her fury and then smiled with the brightness of the sun but before she could reply, Tayyab did it for her.

“No, Uncle Altamash. You are simply too old for that.”

The room was as silent as a tomb.

And then the huge man with the collection of rings on his fingers began to laugh, his oiled moustache twitching all the while. Followed by the nobleman who had arrived on the black-and-white-striped steed. Soon, others started to join in until a chorus of amusement echoed throughout the space.

Altamash's robust laughter rose above the rest. Only those closest to him saw the venomous gaze he shot at the young Caliph of Hudaan. Only those who knew him well understood he was beyond enraged by the recent turn of events. "I am so glad to see that my nephew is back with his sense of humor. I am sure we had all missed it after Meher's disappearance " Altamash had laughed.  Tayyab had gone still, Hayat knew he had said it deliberately.

Altamash seemed to have been content when Tayyab didn't speak a word. Hayat had no clue why the King wouldn't intervene into the conversation and give Altamash a piece of his mind.

A guard had entered the dining hall and neared Aziz. Hayat watched in horror as Aziz's expressions changed. He banged his hand on the table, his plate fell off it and broke into pieces.

He stood up, fury danced in his eyes. "Where is my kaneez?" He questioned to no one in particular. Everyone had stopped eating.

"What's wrong Aziz?" The king asked.

"Zehra! My kaneez. She is pregnant with my child and she is missing from the palace. Where is she??" He shouted.

"Wasn't Zehra the one who served Hayat khatoon." Suggested Altamash. Hayat had only scowled back at Altamash.

"Where is she? Tell me. Did you help her run away?"Aziz glared at her, the sharp cut of his profile even more menacing with the haze of anger coloring its surface.

Hayat had lost her voice. She didn't know what to say. "Brother, my wife is injured and she doesn't even know her way back to her own room. I am sure she can in no way help any kaneez run away from the palace and besides, she was with me since morning." Tayyab replied for her, his voice as calm as the sea before it's hit by a storm.

Hayat had been taken aback. Why was he even covering for her? What exactly was he trying to do?

"You are too naive my nephew."

"Are you suggesting that I am lying uncle?" Tayyab narrowed his gaze,  his voice deathly low. Altamash had shut his mouth immediately.

Aziz left the hall in a fit of pique and the king followed behind him.

Hayat only watched in confusion as the not so cruel prince of Hudaan smirked at his uncle.

And the others on the table had been amused watching the shades of an erstwhile witty, humorous and happy Tayyab surface again.

I hope you are enjoying the story. I am trying my best to update as soon as possible. ❤

I'll appreciate your votes and comments.