12| Zouja!

Z O U J A

A group of ladies sat by the creek, sharing the newest gossip. Three gentlemen stood huddled together under one of the cherry trees, teacups in hand, laughing over something one of them had said. A few couples had branched off from other groups. Hayat watches a pair of courting ladies walk with hands clasped together, the hoops of their skirts touching.

Hayat had been strolling around the courtyard of the palace, at the further end of which was also the stable, crowded by warriors who were looking after their horses as if preparing it for a journey. Hayat had never had the chance to ride one even though she desperately wanted to. She even noticed the flirty glances of the ladies who sat by the creek towards the warriors.

They were all handsome young men and she knew it was bound to happen.

The gown that Hayat wore was silver, the skirt showcasing loose ribbons made to look like waterfalls spilling down the sides. Tiny gems, sapphires and emeralds, were shaped to look like fish jumping from the bundled fabric all along the hemline.

Leila trails closely behind her as she carefully observes everyone in the garden.

Her eyes flickered back to the stables and her footsteps came to a halt when she spotted the guard who ran after Zehra. He was fastening a leather saddle on the back of a horse so beautiful, Hayat was distracted.

This horse was beautiful enough to be a bronzed statue! With an unbelievably shiny coat that appeared to be metallic in the sun. It had a distinctive gait and colour among the other horses in the stable. It was simply elegant.

The guard looked occupied but Hayat couldn't contain her curiosity, she marched towards the stable, to where the guard stood, petting the horse's back.

"We are not allowed to go to stables. My lady, please." Leila had warned, yet Hayat didn't care. "People are watching us." "I don't care." She wanted to know what happened to Zehra. Leila had not followed her into the stable grounds. The moment she had entered, warriors began to bow their head down in courtesy. She walked past them, towards the guard who's back faced her.

"Excuse me!" He had turned abruptly at her voice. He looked a little startled. "My queen", he bowed. "Where did you take the woman you caught yesterday?" Hayat's voice held authority, she knew if she wanted information, she had to use her position to entice it out of him. Aziz was still furious but he no more suspected Hayat.

"I am not supposed to say my lady." He didn't meet her eyes and instead gazed at her slippers as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen.

He was a tall fellow with a generous helping of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His nose was broken once, but it was set well. Only a small notch near the bridge gives anything of it away. Somehow, the imperfections only made him more handsome. It managed to make him look dangerous and mysterious.

"My lady!" Umar strode past her to stand in front of her, right beside the guard.

"General!" Hayat greeted. "I see you have finally met Usman." He placed his hand on the guard's shoulder.

"Yes I did."

"What were you two talking about?" Hayat only hesitated before replying. "I was inquiring about a friend." Hayat responded, not exactly lying.

"I assume that friend is Zehra bin Lateef."

He knew.

Hayat's eyes had widened for a fraction of second but she simply nodded. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a smile. He looked around before replying, "All we can tell you is that she is safe but you need to be careful, that tunnel doesn't lead out of the palace. It infact leads to one of the royal training ground." Hayat's heart had dropped. Hebajaan must have not known and anybody who'd seen the sunlight at the end of the tunnel must have believed, it meant freedom.

Hayat had looked embarrassed. "Tayyab is not so bad after all. Is he?" The general smiled.

He is the worst. Hayat wanted to say. Just because he saved Zehra for some unknown hidden ulterior motive doesn't mean her perception of him would suddenly change.

He was still her parent's murderer.

He was still Ahmar's murderer.

And Hayat still hated him.

"It's a beautiful horse." She commented, trying to change the topic. "She's Nayla. She practically belongs to you too because she's Tayyab's." Umar moved a hand over her elongated neck and it seemed like the horse liked the gesture because she leaned into his touch.

Hayat hesitated before she reached out to pass her own hand through Nayla's silky white hair. The horse careened into her touch and rubbed the side of her face lovingly. Hayat had immediately smiled and so did Umar and Usman.

"She loves you."

"She does?"

"Yes! I’m sorry, but I’m now convinced I’ve earned the right to ask you for a favor, my lady." Umar began. "And why do you think that?” she said under her breath.

“Because my silence has a price.” She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Umar edged closer. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do to Tayyab, but you are the first person to rattle him in years. And he needs to be rattled.” Hayat met his steady gaze, her hand still caressed Nayla's skin.

“Is there a favor in there somewhere?”

“Tayyab is not just my friend. He is not my enemy, either. He is my future king. I remember the boy he was quite fondly . . . kind, with a bright and inquisitive mind. A wandering soul. Happy and joyful. The broken creature he is now, I’m tired of it. Will you help me fix it, Hayat?” Hayat had only stared back in disbelief.

Umar studied her, his sun-bronzed face a hairs breadth from her own.

At that moment, Usman who had been silently listening to their conversation, nudged the General, his gaze pointing at something behind Hayat. Hayat turned around to follow his gaze.

Across the courtyard, the future Caliph of Hudaan stood watching them, his expressions remained impassive.

Umar and Usman began to walk away without finishing their conversation as Tayyab ambled towards her.

The prince crossed the expanse. He was wearing a qamis of the finest white linen and grey sirwal trowsers. A tapered sword in a style Hayat did not recognize hung from the black shealth sash looped about his hips. As always, he embodied the antithesis of everything she found warm and good in the world.

His patent qamis remained free of any crease and his wet hair had been meticulously combed. As he strode through the stables, all motion within the courtyard had ceased at his arrival, Then one after the other, warriors began to bow and kneel out of courtesy as he passed them.

He stopped before her, his eyes locked with her's. "How are you?" Tayyab inquired.

"Good." She set her jaw, drawing on a sudden reserve of impudence. Hayat didn't even try to return his question for she simply didn't care how he was.

Nayla walked past her to nudge the side of her face to Tayyab's face, as if demanding attention. He immediately began petting her.

"I have decided what I want." Hayat announced, grabbing his attention back.

"And what is it?"

"I want to learn the art of sword fighting from the best warrior in Hudaan." Tayyab didn't speak as if he was weighing her words for a while, the motive behind her demand.

Hayat needed to learn to defend herself. She knew that in the dangerous game that she was playing, she was alone and if she wanted to ensure her own survival, learning sword fighting would help her protect herself if she ever needed to.

A few seconds passed by when Tayyab finally replied, "Umar!." He summoned.

The general had rushed to his side, "Yes sayidi."

"I want you to teach her sword fighting and defense every morning, soon after sunrise. You can start tomorrow." Tayyab ordered. Umar nodded, accepting his orders.

Good! Now it'll be easy to pierce the sword through his delicate skin and watch him die.

Tayyab had then turned to her as if expecting her to say something. Hayat had only bowed before moving past him. She took a few steps towards the courtyard before he called out to her again.

"Zouja!" His voice was coated with honey, he called her his wife and he said it so lovingly that Hayat's heart had picked up pace. It only made her scowl at her own self.

She turned around when he covered a few steps gap between them. "Ask me for one more thing."

"And what's that for?" Hayat's brows had furrowed in confusion.

"For being brave enough to save an innocent." Hayat wanted to scowl at him too. He looked like a hypocrite right now.

You should stop acting like you are not one of them when you are the one leading them. She wanted to shout.

But all she could do was press her teeth together, so she wouldn't say something hateful to him.

She breathed in carefully to calm herself down as she wondered what else could prove to be helpful. Tayyab patiently waited for her to respond.

"I want to learn to read and write Arabic." She disclosed. He watched her with amusement but then he masked his expressions soon, giving away nothing.

He nodded his head before walking away. Hayat had watched him leave.

She then walked back to her own chamber, where supper was served to her.

A bowl of soup was set before her, and the smell of squash and cream wafts upward, made her mouth water. Next to it was placed a tray of fruits, neatly sliced, with a serving bowl of sweet yogurt for dipping. The main course was roasted chicken, cut in spiced strips and placed on a bed of greens.

She ate it all heartily.

That evening she had received another scroll. The rebels demanded answers tomorrow and they had relentlessly been pressurising her to get closer to Tayyab. She wanted to bang her head on the wall for she couldn't bare any closeness to him.

He repelled her.

The abhorrence she felt towards him wouldn't just allow her to do their bidding and she didn't exactly have the required information. She hadn't found any map. She had been happy to learn about the passage way but now that she knew it was of no use, she had to find something else, something more informative.

She had to burn these scrolls as soon as possible and it constantly ran through her mind like an alarm.

That afternoon while she was at the balcony, she carefully noted the ground below her. She had watched in amusement as a huge falcon glided through the air and flew towards Tayyab's raised arm. He had been training the falcon on the vast ground below her balcony.

"Zorahh!" He called out once again before the bird planted it's feet on his hand. Zorah opened it's mouth to take in the piece of meat Tayyab offered it.

"Honestly I am very scared of that falcon." Leila said from behind her. Hayat had been watching the training for about five minutes now.

"It seems like everyone other than the prince is scared of that falcon." Hayat observed as everyone maintained their distance.

"Why won't they? The falcon only ever listens to the prince. It attacks anyone who tries to come too near." Leila explained in exasperation.

Hayat had found the bird fascinating but she was too scared of it because of its not so docile reputation.

She watched the falcon eat another piece of meat that Tayyab offered it. Hayat had wanted to watch more but Tayyab had caught her staring, his eyes met her's and as his gaze beheld her's, she was forced to avert her gaze and move back inside her chamber.

She didn't wait to see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards into a smirk.

Zouja means wife

Done with chapter 12. Phew!

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