6| His Wrath

I am sorry I am late. I slept in the evening. I wrote this in a hurry. Hope you enjoy.

H I S   W R A T H

Hayat walked behind Umar, following him through the gates of Al Qasr. She was grateful to the kaneez who had fed her food and made her drink lots of water.

It was the sole reason why her legs didn't gave up on her. She felt better. She knew she had to eat to be able to go through her plan, her revenge.

Despite the heaviness that didn't leave her heart, she couldn't help but be amazed by the magnificent palace. It was everything she had heard of and even more. Ever since her childhood, all Hayat had heard were stories of how splendid and regal the architecture of it was.

Zindaan was located on the right of Al Qasr, beyond the walls that served as a boundary to the palace. She could see guards scattered all around the premises.

The elegant garden adorned the palace from all sides, roses, lilies, daisies, and other beautiful flowers who's name she had never heard of embellished it all the more. Three fountains added to its beauty.

The castle in itself was a whole new world. It was humongous. Around the main tower there were five more towers in the palace, the top of it was dome shaped, the top edge of which was enriched with gold and pearls.

Two guards walked behind her in silence. She walked on the aesthetic carpet that covered the floors of the palace. They walked towards a huge door, she knew it was the throne room the moment she saw it.

The door to it was open, and two guards stood at either side of it, they bowed their head in unison when the general entered through it, Hayat followed his suit.

The throne room was as beautiful as every other possession of the palace. Had it been under some other circumstance, Hayat would have jumped around at the charm of it but now all she could feel was the need to burn this entire palace to the ground, to see it in ashes.

The king sat on his throne, scrutinizing Hayat with his sunken eyes. The two guards behind her had stopped outside the throne room.

"My king!" The general went on his knees, his right hand placed on his heart, bowing his head down in greeting.

"She's the one?" The King asked. Hayat stared blankly at him, she knew he was a powerful person and probably the only reason she was alive. She feigned innocence despite the hatred she felt towards him, towards each one of them. If she wanted to survive, she had to be careful. She had to look harmless and it would not be difficult since she had always been innocuous.

"Yes your Majesty." General answered soon after he stood up again. The general looked at her in frustration, a moment later he indicated her to bow in courtesy.

Hayat realised it almost immediately. She bowed her head in respect and the king looked pleased. Honestly, Hayat had never learnt any Courtesies.

Who would have thought that she'd have to meet her king someday?

"Good! I have stopped your persecution out of mercy. My son has married you and irrespective of the circumstance, I believe it should remain that way. As a wife and the future queen of the kingdom, it's your duty to care for the prince and give prosperous heirs to this throne." The king's words had made Hayat gag, she wanted to throw up at his expensive rug but she showed no reaction. They were merciless and Hayat knew it. No matter what reason he gave, the rebels had a hand in it.

His mercy be damned.

"But I will warn you, do not take my mercy for granted. Do not conspire against your family because if you do, I would make sure that you regret the day you were born." Hayat's leg had wobbled at his words. She was terrorised and realisation began to dawn upon her, she was in the lion's den. If she wanted to survive, she had to be alert at all times. She had to calculate her every move. This was about life and death.

Hayat only nodded her head in understanding. "No matter how distant Tayyab seems, I expect you to court him. You are his wife and I expect you to play the part." The king announced firmly.

Despite the burning sensation she felt in her heart at the mention of his name, Hayat forced herself to blush. The king seemed a little pleased yet Hayat knew he didn't trust her and she was likely going to be spied upon for a very long period.

"You may now leave. The general will show you to your chamber." The king concluded. Hayat bowed before walking back like Umar and turning around to leave.

As soon as they were out Hayat breathed a sigh of relief. She had made it out alive.

This was not her end.

There was more to her story.

She silently followed behind the general as he walked through the corridors, taking a left turn and then an another right.

Hayat tried remembering it but after a couple of more turns, she failed. She simply followed him later.

"You will be living in a seperate chamber for now, till Tayyab decides to let you in, in his chamber." The general spoke cautiously. He paused at the front of her chamber.

She stopped too. "How are you?" Hayat was taken aback and she couldn't even hide it. He was the first man to ask her in a couple of days and even the question made her want to cry her heart out to him. An unwanted sob escaped her treacherous mouth and she tried to avoid his gaze by looking everywhere else.

How would she answer that question?

How was she?

Things were happening too fast. She wasn't given enough time to mourn the death of her loved one's because she was too busy trying to save her own life, too busy trying to plan the death of his emir.

Why was the general so sweet to her?

Was he a rebel too?

It wouldn't be a shock though, everyone knew that the rebels were penetrating through the castle. She knew there was someone, someone elite enough, who could stop her execution.

But no matter how sweet anybody was to her, Hayat knew she couldn't trust anyone, not even her own shadow in the palace.

"Fine." She answered without a hint of any emotion but he looked suspicious so she further added, "I am trying my best not to think of the cold bodies of my family." She said with a shrug. She was exploiting the general's soft heart, for he instantly pitied her.

"May ALLAH ease your pain Ya ukhti." He replied politely.

"You'll have women to assist you in everything you'll need here in the palace." As if on cue three women dressed in a similar dress like the kaneez who had come to Hayat's cell the other night walked in. They had a similar chiffon veil covering their faces, there eyes perfectly lined with kohl in the same way .

She wondered if any of them was her. She did remember her voice but it was merely whispers. "Heba, Leila and Zehra." Umar introduced while the three of them did a little courtesy, bowing down in gratitude.

I am no queen. She wanted to screem.

"I'll take a leave now. They'll help you in everything you need but in any case, if you face any problem, you can send one of them to fetch me." Hayat didn't know what to make of his words so she didn't respond. He took a hint and left.

Hayat entered her lavish room, a room that the people of her Qasba could only imagine in their wildest dream. A long pale blue carpet stretched the length of the room.

Her chamber was a big set of rooms consisting of a bedroom with an attached bathing chamber, a dressing room, and a small dining room.

Each room was furnished in gold and crimson and the bedroom was also decorated with a huge tapestry hanging along a marble wall, with couches and deep-cushioned chairs scattered around in a tasteful manner.

The balcony overlooked a beautiful fountain in one of the palace gardens but this information was given to her by Leila. Hayat didn't bother to walk around in her chamber.

Her room had a luxurious bed, a wardrobe, a mirror, an entire chest of drawers and all the other antique decor that screamed of Royal wealth.

"Welcome to Al Qasr my queen." Hayat's mind never registered the term queen. It only made her want to scream in frustration. She hated the hierarchy system. She loathed it.

The three maids removed their veil and Hayat had the chance to carefully observe them. They were either the king's spy or they were a spy of rebel. Either way she had to behave and not grow any suspicion.

"Assalamo alaikum." Hayat greeted. Heba was the woman who looked like she was of her mother's age. The striking resemblance of her face to Leila's made her guess that Leila was her daughter, both really beautiful. "Walaikum assalam." Heba replied in surprise.

"It's better you take a bath first and get changed. We don't have your fittings yet so forgive me my lady if the clothes are loose." Heba said.

"No problem. I'll go take a bath." Hayat replied before walking towards the bathing chamber. Zehra followed behind her. "I can take a bath. I don't need your assistance in it." Realising that she was probably very rude to the poor girl for no reason, she apologized. "I am extremely sorry. I've had a  couple of rough days. I just need some time alone."

Zehra bowed and hurried back into the bed chamber. Hayat went to find the bath tub already full of warm water. She unclothed herself and sat in the tub, the warm water already made her body feel at ease. She closed her eyes, in search for a moment of solace but all she could see was blood. All she could see was their faces, detached from the body and thrown across the floor like some garbage. Terrorized, she opened her eyes. Fresh tears threatened to spill but she wiped them off relentlessly.

No you will not cry.

You will not hurt their soul.

You will avenge their death.

It was astounding how much strength a motive could give. She was always the girl who was too scared to test her own limits even though she wanted to, even though she had yearned for it.

Fate was cruel for it had brought her under such circumstance that she had no other option but to depend on nobody but herself. She was alone in this cruel game of revenge. Nobody to cover for her. Nobody to save her if she failed.

No I will not fail.

Her mind had roared.

Soon after she was done taking a bath she wrapped the bathing robe and made her way to the bed room, wanting nothing more than sleep.

It was too strange to lie on a mattress, to have silk caress her skin and a pillow cradle her cheek.

She couldn't sleep however. She had tried but her nightmares wouldn't cease. Heba would console her like a mother and she would stay by her bed the entire night. Her maids would do it turn by turn.

Heba had even helped her sleep by placing Hayat's head on her lap.

The nightmares had continued incessantly. Every night, she would wake up crying.

Three days later Heba had suggested for her to leave her room and take a tour of the palace.

Hayat wouldn't have but she had to. She had to take note of everything. The dresses they got for her were nothing short of elegance.  Leila accompanied her on her tour.

Hayat's days began to get accustomed to it. She would eat, sleep, wake up crying in the middle of the night, take a tour with Leila  and return. Sometimes she would listen to Heba, Leila and Zehra, to their past stories. She had received no scrolls from the rebels. She had had absolutely no encounters with Tayyab nor his general. People in the palace often gave her weird looks, some looked at her with pity while some just stared.

On one Monday morning, Hayat was walking along with Leila, taking a tour of the South tower. Leila was continuously talking where as Hayat could barely listen. Her mind was distracted.

Her footsteps however came to a halt at the sight of the man who had destroyed her life with merely a snap of his fingers. She stared blankly at him, all the courage that she had gathered seemed to have drained away. It looked as if he'd aged a couple of years in these few days. His beard had heavily grown, the bags under his eyes had become more prominent. He was walking towards her whilst talking to the general.

She wished for the ground to swallow her. Who was she kidding? She wasn't brave like her father, like her amma or like Ahmar.

All she could do was tremble at the sight of him. She was a coward.

The moment Tayyab's gaze had settled on her, all hell broke lose. His footsteps came to a halt too. His face, that had earlier held no emotion at all, looked furious now. His Adam's apple bobbled and his jaw had clenched.

"What the hell is this?" He roared before he strode towards her in fury.

Her feet had immediately started moving backwards, but she braced herself nonetheless for his wrath.

Ukhti means sister

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