20| Roses And Thorns

STOP!

Incase you are having a tough day, incase you are looking for an escape from your mundane life, I want you to know that you matter to a lot of people and to me as well.

Honestly you have no idea how special I feel because of all of you. How you guys easily uplift my mood with your kind words.

No matter what it is that you are going through in you life, I know you'll make it. I know ALLAH will never leave you alone. If you are reading this late at night then stop and sleep because your health matters. If you need to cry it out, text me anytime. I'd love to listen.

Also I hope this story provides for you a good escape but most importantly I pray that your life be so beautiful, you wouldn't need a distraction or an escape at all. ❤

R O S E S    A N D    T H O R N S

A plump girl near Hayat's age strode to the foot of the bed and yanked aside the gossamer curtains. She had fair skin and thick honeywalnut hair, piled atop her head in typical Grecian fashion. Her eyes were sparkling blue and were lined in kohl with the practiced hand of an expert. Her lips were puckered into a perfect moue, stained pink with carmine and beeswax. The white linen garment clung to her rounded frame in all the right places. A thick silver band was looped around her upper left arm.

Hayat pushed aside her drowsiness and attempted to conjure a semblance of dignity.

The girl marched to the screens and threw them open to reveal an early morning sun sitting high in a clear cerulean sky.

Hayat cringed away from the harsh stream of light. She hadn't had a proper sleep in days. The map was missing. She didn't know who to believe anymore.

"Where is Leila?" Hayat couldn't identify the new girl. "My lady, she's unavailable at the moment. I am your new handmaiden as well." Her voice was dipped in honey.

"What is your name?" Hayat asked her. "Bilkis!" The pretty girl replied. Hayat wanted to ask her why she had entered her room without a knock but decided against it, since it was her first day.

Three days had passed by in a blur, and she hadn't received any scroll again. It seemed as if the rebels were taking precautions after the khadim had been caught.

Umar was too busy to teach her and instead of him, another warrior showed up who was practically too scared to even speak because Tayyab had warned him of the repercussions of not behaving in a proper manner. He didn't teach her anything new. Her lessons became boring. He tried to be so polite that he wouldn't even correct her if she moved in the wrong way.

Hayat didn't understand Tayyab's ways. She tried her best not to be downright rude to him or to show him how much she despised him because she had learnt her lesson.

If she wanted to survive, she needed him and she wasn't ashamed of using him because he deserved it. However, she was agitated with her own heart, for it behaved weirdly, when by his side. Usually he kept his distance but sometimes while passing through the courtyards or while training his falcon, he'd meet her gaze and that was enough to cause a havoc in her heart.

Are you that desperate for a man? She would often scold herself. Idiot!

She would remember Ahmer's face and then guilt and remorse would course through her senses, making her furious, more to herself than him.

But all of this sanity would fly out of the window the moment Tayyab walked by. She was a traitor, and she didn't deserve Ahmer's love. She would often cry herself to sleep because of it.

She wasn't supposed to stop hating him, even for a moment.

Bilkis had helped her to get ready for her training with Ammar, the warrior. She had somehow managed to get there on time and like every other day, he was already there.

They began with their normal boring routine for training while Hayat tried not to yawn.

Fifteen minutes into the training, and she heard Tayyab's voice from behind her. "You'll hurt yourself Zouja!" She was so startled, that she almost dropped her sword.

The warrior had bowed and moved aside immediately. Hayat tried to catch her breath as she watched him close the gap between them, "What?" A lock fell forward into her face, and she shoved it behind her ear, and he noted each movement carefully. "Your position is wrong. You will likely hurt yourself." He gave a sharp look to Ammar, who had immediately started to apologize. "Its fine. It is not his fault." She replied, averting her gaze, not wanting to look at him for far too long.

"Then who's fault is it?" Tayyab cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You should ask yourself!" "What have I done to hurt my queen in her training?" Hayat's heart had skipped a beat and she had to mentally facepalm herself.

"If you think my techniques are so wrong, why don't you teach me yourself?" His eyebrows rose at this informality, the only sign of a reaction to her bold display.

"You wouldn't like my ways of teaching." He smirked.

"That's not for you to decide." Hayat retorted adamantly. She wanted to learn his ways and look for a weakness. Any weakness that she might exploit later.

"Very well!" He smiles evilly. "Leave!" He commanded to everyone else in the courtyard. A few people along with Ammar left the courtyard silently. Now they were alone.

Hayat had been anxious, she didn't understand why he'd send everyone away but she didn't fear him. Not even once. It was as if she knew, he wouldn't hurt her.

"Stand still." Hayat furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but didn't move. She watched him walk around her, to take his position right behind her. Hayat's breath had hitched but she kept on reminding herself that he was a killer, a merciless killer who had destroyed not only her world but of many more people of her kingdom, "take this sword." He gave her his sword, the weight of it had her wondering how he'd even moved it so quickly on the day of the tournament.

"What's your first stance of attack?" She lifted the blade into the thin air, as if about to strike an opponent. She felt her shoulders stick to his chest as he reached out to lift her hand a little higher,  he didn't touch her, rather lifted it by the sword.

"This muscle right here.." He tapped on her bicep with a finger, "is responsible for all the strength when you are about to attack." Hayat remained silent, and tried to not think of how near he was.

"If you let it loose, your muscles will get hurt, you need to derive your power from it."

So he derives his strength from it too.

"Move this leg slightly affront." He bend to tap on her leg and she followed his instruction, moving her right leg ahead.

"Good! You are good to attack now."

Tayyab then moved in front of her, "now attack me." He said.

"But you don't have a sword." Hayat stated as a matter of fact. "It's fine. Just give me your best. Use as much force as you can and remember it like it's your only chance at survival."

Hayat was nervous, she used the technique he'd told her. With all the strength that she could muster, she attacked him but Tayyab bent back a little, and the sword cut into nothing but air. "What do you often dream of Hayat?" He asked in between her fight, making it harder for her to concentrate.

"Nothing you'd like." She said honestly because she dreamt of his death, of Ahmer. He didn't ask her any further questions. Hayat realised that his strength lied in how swift he was. He changed positions like magic. Once he is there and then he's not.

The next that she attacked him was through his center, so he couldn't bend back, it would have touched his stomach, but Tayyab had completely moved aside in a bolt of lightening. "What do you dream of Sayyidi?" She asked. Tayyab grabbed her hands, the one that was holding the sword and tugged her to himself, her back collided with his chest and she  found herself trapped. He nestled his face into her hair, she was breathing heavily. "I dream of this." Hayat felt her stomach flutter at his response but she shrugged it away. He probably used this line on every girl he courted. A scowl had immediately conquered her face. His left hand remaind by his side. The right arm that he used to trap her was alone so powerful, that it didn't even let her budge.

She was frustrated. "In any such similar situation where you think you are trapped, leave the techniques and look for anything that might come handy. Anything that might save your life." He whispered into her hair as she continued to struggle against his hold.

How was she supposed to do that?

She couldn't think properly but then an idea popped up in her head and she mustered every ounce of courage to hit him on his chest with her elbow. Tayyab was taken a back. He stumbled back. This was probably the only method she knew how to do perfectly.

Tayyab rubbed his chest with his hand and the fact that she must have hurt him alone satisfied her to the gut. Hayat grinned like a fool, but then he began to laugh. The sound seemed to leap from wall to wall.

"Impressive! I'll be referring to it as a Hayat move from now on." He laughed a little more and this time Hayat couldn't help but smile too.

She realised it a moment later that he had already disarmed her, his blade that she'd been holding was back in his hands. He put it in its sheath again, where it dangled around his waist. He then turned around and without another word, walked out of the courtyard, still laughing to himself. Hayat had only watched with amusement.

....

Later that afternoon, Hayat walked around Al Qasr with Yousef and Ali on her side. She had to decide a theme for the decorations of the ball but she couldn't think about anything, so they suggested her to look around for inspiration.

Ali wouldn't stop talking, explaining to her every small detail about AL Qasr. Hayat didn't stop him because she didn't want to hurt him. He was always good to her.

Hayat was dressed in wide silk trousers and a fitted top stained a deep black color, with thick straps that banded over each shoulder. The necklace and thin chain at her waist contained amethysts surrounded by tiny, pale pink rubies. At her ears and along her brow were large teardrops of black and gold. Her waist-length hair hung in shining waves down her back.

They had at first continued up the numerous flights of stairs and into the cool marble hallways. Yousef led them to a large room with a domed ceiling five times the height of a man. Its walls were tiled and covered with painstakingly carved reliefs, depicting battle scenes long forgotten of warriors brandishing their weapons, vanquishing their foes and some even dancing elegantly.

It was the ballroom. She had a good look at it and was instantly mesmerized.

She listened to Ali’s incessant chatter as they spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the premises. Ali showed her the warm waters of the palace’s newest addition, commenting what was appropriate and jesting where it was not.

Yousef stalked alongside Hayat, his posture as rigid and implacable as his expression. After several minutes of traversing in silence, they came to an open-air gallery with a series of arched double doors leading outside.

An attendant pushed through one set of doors to allow them passage, and  they walked into an iron gate that further lead to a beautiful garden, flowers arranged like colossal steps in a descending staircase.

The first row of this huge garden was filled with flowering trees and an elaborate aviary enclosed on all sides by carefully wrought trelliswork.  Lush blue-green grass flourished between pavestones of coarse granite.

Brick-lined trails wend through patches of flowers. Hayat was in awe of this beauty. First, she passed by the roses. Each row varied by size and color. She hadn't seen this part of the premises ever.

Some were all one shade, while others were tipped with pinks and yellows. They were cared for immaculately, with not a dying bloom among the plants.

Farther along, she saw beds of other species. Chrysanthemums and daffodils and tulips, but she didn't go exploring just yet. She stopped before one of the rosebushes, the petals a sun-bright yellow. They flare to the most stunning red-orange at the tips, and she couldn’t help but stare at the individual blossoms. How they reminded her of the flickering colors of fire.

One flower hadn’t quite yet bloomed. With just a few orange tips peeling away, it looked like an ember slowly extinguishing. Growing smaller, rather than larger, as she knew the blossom would do. "This garden belonged to Tayyab's mother." She heard Yousef say. "It's beautiful." She found herself replying, while taking in its beauty.

"Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder." They turned around abruptly to look at their intruder. A tall man draped in garments of vibrant fabric stood behind them, near the iron gates. She was surprised to see Humza effendi after so long. She wondered how they hadn't heard him come. His deep blue rida’ fell to the floor, and its hood was wound about his head, secured by a circlet of leather and gold. Thick cuffs were wrapped around both wrists, and his pale skin reminded Hayat of the finest milk, that she was served in the palace.

He smiled so widely his teeth seemed to glow white, like pearls set against ebony. "Humza effendi!" Yousef and Ali were at once bowing in respect.

Hayat bowed her head too. She was reminded of the day she'd first met him. His eyebrows were peppered with white, and the fine lines etched about his face indicated a propensity for deep thought and a predilection for amusement. "Assalamo alaikum!" Hayat greeted him. "Walaikum assalam my daughter." He replied to her with a smile.

"How is your mother Yousef?"

"Alhamdulillah effendi, she is better now." Hayat wondered what happened to his mother and made a note to ask him later.

"Would you mind if I showed her around?" Humza effendi said gently. Yousef and Ali nodded in agreement and moved aside.

Soon after they were away, Humza effendi turned to her with a smile, "Let's walk around."  He urged and they began walking around the garden.

"May I ask you something effendi?"

"Yes! Yes! You may." He paused before one of the daffodils and cut it with a pair of scissors. He looked at it with scrutiny and then tossed it into his basket. Hayat didn't raise any questions regarding it but rather asked him, "How did you know my name?"

"Everyone knew your name the day you stepped a foot in the palace. There were rumours all around." His response left her speechless. She didn't know what to say. "I want to apologize to you." Humza effendi further added and she furrowed her brows in confusion.

"For not being available the day Tayyab married you forcefully. I was not in the palace when it happened." He heaved a sound of dejection. "Something's are written in the Qadar. Do not blame yourself Humza effendi. If my rab had written for it to happen..." If Tayyab's doom had been written through her hands... "There is no one who could have stopped it." She tried to return his smile.

He paused near a rose bed, to look at her.

“I wonder what light you must bring to my poor Tayyab.”

Light may not be the appropriate word.

She offered him a small smile in response.

“As I feared, aren't you happy with him?” Humza said gently with a hint of sadness in his tone. “Is there any hope for happiness with him?”

“Its not easy effendi. Not after what he's done. The damage is irrevocable.”

“So I’ve heard.” His voice was knowing and sad. “But do you wish for a harmonious marriage with him?”

Hayat shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, lying to this strangely garbed man with the rich laugh and the probing eyes seemed . . . wrong. She felt as if he could look past her facade.

“I long for a marriage based on love and mutual respect, Humza effendi. Whether it is possible with Tayyab remains to be seen.”

“Ah, so honest! Tayyab values such honesty above all else. He craves it. Even as a small child, he sought the truth with a kind of fervor I’ve rarely encountered in any individual. He was a curious soul. Always captivated by the smallest of things. Do you know this about him?" He asked curiously.

"I know very little about his past.” Hayat replied honestly. He didn't deserve her rude behavior for what Tayyab did.

"I do not see you around here too often." It was true, she barely saw him. Not even on the day of the khadim's execution. "I travel a lot my child. I barely come to the palace but when I do, I make sure to visit the garden. The serenity of this place gives me solace." Hayat couldn't disagree. It was peaceful. "I wouldn't disagree." She even voiced her opinion.

He nodded. “Tell me, beyond the rumours, what kind of man has Saba’s son become?”

Hayat paused and studied the kind face of the stranger across from her.

If she answered his questions, would he answer hers?

“A cruel and ruthless one.”

“These things I could find out on the streets of Hudaan. I want to know the things you know. The things a clever young girl has deduced, even in such a short time.”

Hayat chewed on her lower lip for a moment.

“A joyless one. A calculating one. Sometimes a bitter one . . .but also a misunderstood one, a kind one, a mysterious one.” she whispered. She told herself that it was not true. He is cruel and he would remain  that. There was no mystery in it.

She thought of his raw fist and the punishing fury.

“An angry one too.” She added.

“It was not always like this.” Humza sighed. “He was such a kind boy full of joy and life.”

“I’ve been told. But it is difficult to believe.”

“Understandably.” He paused. “Will you permit me to share a story with you, my lovely Hayat? About the night a young child had his first heartbreak.”

“Of course, Humza effendi.”

“It is a sad story.”

“I imagine any story that ends in such a manner would be.”

Humza looked above at the clear sky in remembrance before he began.

“I was the tutor for Tayyab’s mother, Saba. And Saba was a joy. Beautiful and talented. A lover of books and poetry. When she married Tayyab’s father and became his wife, she was young—only fourteen years old. I came along with her to Hudaan, at her insistence. She was very headstrong because she was a princess already. Unfortunately, it was not an easy marriage. It was arranged for the prosperity of the two kingdoms. Her husband was a good deal older than she, and he clearly didn't give her enough time and love. She was only a means to give him a heir. Saba did not appreciate the constant fight for his love and attention. I tried hard to rein in her tantrums and bouts of despair, but the disparity between them in age and interests was oftentimes too difficult to breach. It was no one’s fault, really. Tayyab’s father was quite set in his ways, he was too focused on being a good ruler. And Saba was a spirited young woman who was a seeker of love.” He stopped, his features growing sad. Hayat listened to him attentively.

“After Tayyab was born, I hoped everything would change. I had never seen a more devoted mother. Saba kissed his feet and sang to him as an infant. When he was older, she told him stories every night before he went to sleep. And Tayyab loved her more than anything. He didn't even have more than three friends. His world revolved around his mother. Tayyab would help his mother in this garden. They would spend several hours here playing, gardening and laughing.” Humza closed his eyes for a moment, and Hayat took a careful breath.

“I was there the night Tayyab’s father learned of Saba’s betrayal . . . when he discovered she had been carrying on an affair with a member of the palace guard.” His tenor became low and grave.

“He questioned if Tayyab was his child and not the guard's but the Tayyab's resemblance to himself made him quiet. He dragged Saba through the halls of the palace by her hair. She was screaming at him, calling him horrible names. I tried to help her, but his soldiers prevented me from doing so. In the atrium, he called for Tayyab. Saba kept telling Tayyab that everything would be fine. That she loved him. That he was her world but he wouldn't stop crying. He was too young to understand why his mother was being beaten.” Hayat’s hands curled into fists.

“And there, in front of her seven-year-old son, Tayyab’s father announced the execution of both his mother and the guard. When Tayyab started to cry, his father yelled at him. I will never forget what he said. ‘An unfaithful woman has no right to live.’ After that, I was thrown out of the palace, with nothing but the clothes on my back. I was only called in later because the kingdom had began to question about the  Queen's disappearance. Rumours had begun to spread and the story of her death due to blight had to  to be told by someone whom she trusted and who better than her tutor." He looked ashamed. "I should have fought harder. For Saba’s sake. For Tayyab’s sake. But I was weak. Afraid. Later, I heard what had become of Saba’s son. And I always regretted it. From the bottom of my soul, I regretted it. I had come back to the palace but I didn't want to live here so I would only visit the palace sometimes. Tayyab didn't talk to me ever since that night. It was good to watch him not lose his spark even after it. With Meher, he looked like his normal self. The always joyful Tayyab thrilled to encounter an adventure.” Something had risen in Hayat’s chest, forming a barrier that prevented her from speaking. She swallowed hard.

"But then she was gone and all of it came crashing down upon Tayyab. For all these years, he hadn't been able to accept what happened to his mother. If only he had tried to confide in anybody." Hayat knew that Humza effendi only knew half of the story. He wasn't aware that his mother was alive, that she had ran away with the guard. He thought she'd been executed. But Tayyab knew. Tayyab knew every bitter truth. Every version of the story.

Two women, the most important women of his life had abandoned him. Left him alone in darkness. "I blame myself sometimes. He is not the same anymore." Humza Effendi looked so agonized, that it bugged Hayat.

With careful respect, Hayat attempted to break the silence.

“Humza effendi . . . I feel certain you should not hold yourself responsible for anything that transpired, not that night or any of the nights after. I am young, and, therefore, I know my words only carry a certain weight with the world, but I do know enough to realise you cannot control the actions of others. You can only control what you do with yourself afterward.”

His warm smile made Hayat feel at ease. “Such wise words. Does Tayyab know what a treasure you are, my dearest star?”

Hayat’s eyes furnished him with the smile her lips could not.

Humza shook his head. “He has suffered a great deal. It troubles me immensely to know he inflicts suffering on others as a result. And it vexes me because these are not the actions of the boy I knew. But as you are young, I am old, and in my age, wisdom becomes less of a birthright and more of an expectation. In my life, the one thing I have learned above all is that no individual can reach the height of their potential without the love of others. We are not meant to be alone, Hayat. We were created in pairs. The more a person pushes others away, the clearer it becomes he is in need of love the most.”

I could never love such a man . . . such a monster.

Lair! Shouted back every nerve of her brain.

She didn't know of a suitable response, so she rather disregarded the topic, "The roses are beautiful." She looked at him as he cut one of the rose with his scissors and put it in his basket. Hayat spotted a spot of blood on his fingers, one of the thorns had prick through his skin. "You are bleeding." She said.

Humza effendi had smiled like he could hear her thoughts. "The more you love roses the more you must bear with thorns." Hayat knew there was an underlying meaning to it.

"I must take a leave. Yousef and Ali are too kind to intervene but I think I've asked them to wait for too long." Hayat clutched her fingers around her shamla as she bowed to Humza effendi. He nodded his head before she tuned to leave.

"Jalal-al-din Rumi once said..." Hayat paused as Humza effendi spoke again. She swirled around to look at him, he was cutting one of the roses. "A Rose's Rarest Essence Lives in the Thorn." He raised the rose to have a good look at it before tossing it into his basket.

Hayat didn't quite understand but she nonetheless replied politely, "I'll remember your kind words of wisdom Effendi. Insha ALLAH, we'll meet again." She didn't wait for a reply because she rushed out of the iron gates as Yousef and Ali followed behind.

A lot had been going in her mind. No matter what, her heart shouldn't soften for Tayyab. No matter what traumatic past he had, it didn't give him any rights to ruin the life of others. She didn't feel like looking around anymore and so she excused herself away from Yousef and Ali. Both of them didn't try to stop her.

....

That night, The servants who delivered the food found no trace of Hayat anywhere within the chamber. It was Tayyab who discovered her standing on the terrace of his wing, overlooking a side entryway flanked by fountains in his mother's garden. This was the only part of the palace that gave her a view of his mother's beautiful garden.

She did not turn around when he arrived. Instead, she leaned over the railing and tried to avoid him. He paused for a moment and then joined her.

A crescent moon hung high in the sky, reflecting back into the shimmering pools of water below.

"I didn't expect you to be here." He replied

She didn’t respond immediately. “Are you going to punish me for it?”

“No. You are free to go wherever you want.” he sounded offended.

She turned to him, studying his profile in the moonlight. “Does it mean I could leave the palace too? I think you should be careful with what you say.” His body had gone rigid with tension

Hayat averted her gaze to stare ahead. “I think I can't stop you or chain you if you want to leave. Do you want to leave Hayat?” Hayat laughed sarcastically, ignoring the way her name rolled of his tongue.

"Where would I go? Have you left anyone that I know of as family, alive?" Tayyab had gone still. He didn't say another word.

"You need to stop doing that to your people. I think a future king who hopes to be beloved by his people shouldn’t execute them for no reason."

“Who said I hoped to be beloved by my people?” her husband replied in a staid monotone.

At this, Hayat twisted to meet his gaze. “And all this time, I could have sworn you were a smart man.” She mimicked his quietly aloof tone as she pronounced this judgment, and the effect of her subtle mockery was not lost on him.

A corner of his lips twitched. “And all this time . . . I could have sworn you didn’t want to die.”

Hayat blinked.

And then decided to laugh. She didn't even try to understand what he meant.

The sound carried over the terrace, bubbling out into the night, filling the sky with the tinkling music of bells.

The prince watched her, his spark of surprise quickly masked by somber reflectiveness.

“You’re very strange,” Hayat commented, once her laughter had subsided.

“So are you, Hayat-um-Hayat.”

“At least I know it.”

“What makes you think that I am not aware of it too?”

“But I don’t punish people for it.”

He sighed. “I know I have killed people. Sometimes they deserved it and sometimes I made mistakes. Sometimes people were hurt because they were caught in between a crossfire.”

“Doesn't make you any less of a killer. Don't you see how afraid people are of you?” Anger seeped into her words.

“Are you?..afraid of... Me?”

“No!" Hayat replied with certainty.

"Then what are you afraid of Ya Amar?" She didn't know what the endearments meant.

"I’m afraid of a lot of things.” He cast her a searching glance. “Like what?”

Just then, as if the night had foretold the moment, a vicious breeze raked across the terrace, whipping through Hayat’s long black hair. Tendrils flew into her face, obscuring her features.

“I’m afraid of dying,” she announced over the wind.

And I’m afraid of failing against you..

"Most people are afraid of dying." He commented. "Are you?" She couldn't help but question.

"Now, I am." His simple reply held a lot of weight.

He stared at her as the gust died down . . . as it finished toying with Hayat’s tresses, winding them to and fro.

When the last vestiges disappeared, that same errant lock from earlier in the day still hung in her eyes. She started to reach for it—

But he caught her hand in one of his own and brushed the curl behind her ear, gently.

The fluttering in her stomach returned with a vengeance.

“Tell me what it is that you want the most?” It sounded entreating in his low voice.

I want you dead.

“If I told you, you'd kill me.” she breathed back.

"If I wanted to kill you.." He neared her. "I would have done it long ago." Hayat felt her legs wobble.

"Then why haven't you?" She asked. Hayat fought for control but her question made him laugh, as though she was being unbelievable.

His hand skimmed to her waist, as if seeking permission. He then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brow. “Sleep well, Zouja.”

Hayat drew a quick breath.

This is madness. He makes her weak. He makes her forget.

She should push him away. Yet her hands didn't move. She instead wanted so much to curve against him. To lose herself in his arms, and forget everything but the way it felt to be held in such a tantalizing trap of her own making.

Where the hell were these feelings even coming from?

She watched him turn and leave, his smile didn't waver.

When the wayward lock of hair fell forward yet again, she stabbed it behind her ear with undue vehemence.

She wanted to punch her own face.

Hayat-um-Hayat means the Life of my life.

Ya Amar means my moon or my most beautiful.

Phewww! This one is of 5424 words🙈.

I thought of putting it up as two different chapters to double the votes I usually get but then for some odd reason, I was like Naaah! Let it be one. ❤