What do you see when you think of me, / a figure cloaked in mystery

— Uzma Jalaluddin

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Him

The horse trots to a stop outside the small house bundled up among the others in the deserted street. The dawn has only cracked and the darkness still looms like a shadow on the world. He throws a brief glance to the sky, quickly dismounting his horse and tying it to a nearby tree before knocking on the door. He has to return back before the time runs out.

It takes only a few seconds before someone receives him at the door-- a loyal servant he notes to reward later. He can never disregard those standing on his side, fighting alongside him, offering him so much as their lives. He remembers them. He vows to pay them for their sacrifices.

"You received my message?" the voice asks as soon as he enters the sitting area. He shifts his gaze towards him, taking a step in his direction, dropping the hood of his cloak off his head before meeting his eyes.

"How do you think I'm here then?" he asks, a smile slowly forming on his lips at the sight of him. "Welcome back, my friend."

Her

"So you're the new girl in the harem."

"I'm not in the harem."

The queen lifts her chin at her response, looking at her under her nose, before arching a challenging eyebrow.

"Every person within this kingdom is under the rule of Al Shafay, let alone a woman within the walls of this palace. Everyone and everything here belongs to the Khalifa."

Arwa bint Atta is a woman crafted to the perfection by God Himself, that Noura knew right at the moment she first looked at her. She's the epitome of feminine beauty, still in her delicate youth, effortlessly drawing every eye to her by just a flutter of her eyelid in the room, speaking with such elegance and power that none can dare to interrupt her but Noura alone as she answers her questions. It's as clear as daylight to her why Yusuf bin Khalid dedicated his heart and crown to this woman and made her his queen, never even considering another one. But it's something else about her too that tells Noura why she has been holding her position even so long after when her husband isn't the caliph anymore-- the wit besides the charm she carries in her big, dark eyes like a bottomless ocean ready to drown whoever tries to stand against her. The authority in her aura alone is enough to terrify any transgressor.

"I'm not brought as a slave here, sayidati," Noura utters, somehow managing to keep her voice from quivering.

"But you're brought here for a theft."

"A false theft I'm being accused for."

Arwa smiles a delighted smile, the intensity on her exquisite features giving way to something soft. She gets up from her divan and walks towards her, stopping a few feet away.

"And why would that be?" she asks, as if bidding her towards an response she's expecting her to give.

Noura casts a look towards Adam who has been standing besides the divan silently all this while, head bowed down respectfully and not even so much as glancing in their direction.

"Because the Khalifa does as he pleases, sayidati," Noura replies ironically, bold in her tone, not shying away even when Arwa's gaze sharpens on her. But to her surprise, the queen's lips pull back into a grin, the one that tells her she has thrilled her rather than offending her.

"Indeed." She turns around her in a circle, studying her discreetly. "What is your name?"

"Noura Al Makhzum."

"Noura." Arwa comes to stand face to face with her again. "I see why Al Shafay is smitten with you."

Her heart thuds abnormally. She knows. The queen knows why the caliph has brought her here under a false charge and she doesn't care one bit. Instead, she so brazenly informs her how she belongs to the caliph as the other women in his harem.

"I don't belong to Al Shafay, my queen," Noura valiantly declares, forcing her eyes not to cower in fear away from Arwa's piercing stare despite the clenching of her gut or the closing of her throat at each word spit.

Arwa remains passive, not losing her composure at Noura's insolence, responding calmly, "We'll see about that. So far I haven't met a single soul beating Al Shafay in his determination when he wishes to get something. But if you manage to do so, I'll consider myself fortunate to have known you."

Noura wants to tell her she's not something. She wants to tell her she's not one of caliph's conquests. But she doesn't get time as the queen turns to Adam.

"Prepare my carriage, Adam. I shall leave now."

"As you please, sayidati."

"Also," she stops him before he can go. "Arrange someone trustworthy to accompany me. I want you to stay behind at the palace while I'm gone. I don't know how many days it'll be before I return, so I want you to write to me and keep me informed of what goes on in here."

Adam tips his head and excuses himself, leaving Noura alone with Arwa. Though a thousand queries float in her head, she knows from the gleam in the queen's orbs wherever she's going, it's more like paradise to her than the palace. She looks happy as if having found the freedom she had been awaiting for eternity. Then as if sensing her musings, Arwa smiles as her.

"I'm going to see the Khalifa."

The queries in her mind double now, her heartbeat glitching in the process. Of course, the queen knows who is the Khalifa.

She wonders about Arwa's relationship with Al Shafay. Even if not romantic, she cannot help thinking if the caliph has taken her as his consort after Yusuf bin Khalid? Is this another one of the reasons why she's still holding title of the queen? But then how can she so casually comment about Al Shafay's interest in Noura if she's in love with the caliph herself? Her logic fails at connecting the dots and solving the mystery.

And if the Khalifa isn't at the palace, where is he? If he's roaming around his kingdom, or somewhere in Baghdad, does he come to the palace concealed as a commoner too?

"The Khalifa?" Noura repeats, as if in daze, and Arwa hums at her.

"I know you might have many questions to ask, and feel being wronged, but in due time everything will fall into place and you'll find your answers."

"I don't think any of this is fair," she argues.

"And it never will be." Arwa sighs, as if exasperated, then gives her another smile, weary this time. "Remember, darling, when two sides are at war, each of the side thinks it's the right one. Who do you stand with then?"

Noura doesn't say anything, not having words to offer as reply, and Arwa takes her silence as a sign to continue.

"Whichever side you choose, the other will feel wronged and call it unfair. So you see, it's never fair. But you've to choose nonetheless, and it's always the one which the heart falls to."

Noura frowns, puzzled at the riddle the queen is giving her to solve. "I don't understand how it relates to me."

"The Khalifa is at war too, Noura, but against reasons. He, too, follows his heart which is fair for him, no matter if for the rest of the world it's unfair," she concludes simply before going to gather her cloak and giving her a last look, the smile still gracing her face, before she turns around and walks out of the chamber, leaving her in a puddle of thoughts to keep her restless for the coming days.

It is well past midday when she's strolling through gardens with Hafez. The sun is bright and relentless but the trees provide her with cool shade that she so desperately desires. Noura watches the blood red roses standing out among the other flowers in the bushes, swaying in the breeze as it every once in a while picks up. She stops in front of one of the bushes, gingerly reaching forward to touch a thorn on a rose stalk. Her mind starts wandering until it comes to revolve around the one man who's the center of her universe, swirling, pushing away everything else, then falling apart. She remembers the pendent once again and turns towards Hafez.

"Do you know where Eskander might be right now?"

"He trains soldiers at the barracks at this time, sayidati."

"Can you take me to him?"

Hafez's eyes flick around in uncertainty. "I'm not sure if the general will like it, sayidati."

"I'll tell him I insisted."

He swallows uneasily. "If you want me to."

Noura smiles encouragingly. "Lead the way."

He guides her to the barracks and even from a distance Noura can hear the loud clashes of metal colliding against metal and men roaring like beasts. She doesn't know what sight awaits her there, but she know it might be unlike anything she has ever seen before.

She has heard stories from Eskander of wars and his journeys, and trained with him with swords and daggers. But then it was only him and her. And she knows he had never went his full force on her-- he will never, always holding back something, even if a little, yet still enough to hide his true self from her. Until suddenly now, seeing him in action without barriers or a cause to hold him back sends a rush of exhilaration through her. She cannot fully know what to expect. She has never seen a man on man in an actual duel before, having already left Baghdad by the time she got to understand the reality of the world and gone to peacefully live in Isfahan with her mother, away from men fighting and wars happening behind her.

"Sayidati?"

Hafez's voice takes her attention away from her thoughts to him. Noura looks towards him.

"Yes?"

He clears his throat, seemingly anxious. "About what happened between you and Adam, if general Eskander finds out..." he doesn't finish his sentence, but Noura gets his apprehension.

"He won't, Hafez. I won't tell him," she assures him. "And I'm sorry for putting you through the trouble."

"No, sayidati, don't apologize to me. I should've been more careful."

"It wasn't your fault but mine entirely."

He shifts uneasily on his feet. "I beg your pardon, but I think you should be more heedful of Adam," he half warns, half advices.

"This bad?"

Hafez licks his lips, glancing away. "I cannot say much, I've spend most of my time with general Eskander away from Baghdad. But Adam is a devious man, having made his name and position in the court too much too soon, to the point where from a mere slave sold to Yusuf bin Khalid he became the caliph's righthand man."

Noura calculates his words, pondering over them, before asking, "Is that why he's the queen's personal guard?"

Hafez nods briskly. "She trusts him, sayidati, more than anyone else in the palace, maybe because Yusuf bin Khalid trusted him with his wife. Not to mention the caliph was a very hard-to-trick man; he didn't trust anyone with the queen because of the turmoil in the kingdom at that time, except Adam."

"Then how did the rebellion happen?" Noura inquires further, all at once curious at the information coming from Hafez. "Does no one really know who's Al Shafay besides the queen? And what happened to Yusuf bin Khalid? Did the caliph survive the riot or not?"

Hafez allows a fleeting smile to escape him, probably finding her investigation amusing. Noura feels her face flush in embarrassment and gazes away.

"I'm sorry for my silliness."

"Oh no, sayidati, I don't mind it at all," Hafez dismisses her concerns. "I wish I could answer all your questions for you, but unfortunately I don't have answers to them all. As I've said, I've spend my time serving under general Eskander and back then he was appointed in Ar-Raqqa. When the rebellion took place, I was there too in Ar-Raqqa with him in his army. But it was too late when we got here-- Yusuf bin Khalid was already dethroned. Whether the caliph survived or not, no one knows, but to settle the turmoil Al Shafay was declared as the caliph with the claim that he'll continue the rule under Khalifa Yusuf's name."

Hafez tells her what her uncle had told her back at her home, and to her it still sounds like a conspiracy used to fool the people. Noura doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it.

"As to who are the people who know him," Hafez adds, "we know not. Because anyone who has undiscovered the secret of his identity, they haven't lived to see the next day sun. Except the queen, of course."

"How are you serving an unknown Khalifa then?" she asks Hafez, finding it ridiculous to dedicate one's self to a nameless caliph.

"We serve the royal blood, sayidati. If Al Shafay is not one of the princes, then Sulaiman bin Khalid will reclaim the caliphate."

She stills as she hears his response, titling her head to look him into the eyes. "The prince who led the treason against caliph Yusuf?"

Hafez's silence is her answer. She blinks in disbelief.

"How are you so sure?"

"Because prince Sulaiman survived the war even if caliph Yusuf didn't. Sooner or later he'll come back for the crown."

"And it's all fair?"

"It's how it has been for years in the fight for the throne. Al Shafay knows it's coming, that's why he's ruling from a hiding. It's only a matter of time when another rebellion strikes."

It seems to Noura like a narration of an ancient tale, too well-known to object to, but simply to accept. As if the throne is way too much than the lives that will be lost for it. Maybe to the caliph, it is, wanting to own the caliphate and rule in his own way. But how dangerous the game can get or how many sacrifices must be given before one is victorious and the other defeated sends a shudder through her spine.

Once more the loud sounds of the swords clashing and the thundering of a familiar voice enrapture her focus away from her discussion with Hafez towards the scene of a duel. Her eyes go wide in horror watching the two men fighting, each appearing as if dying to kill the other, heaving and attacking each fraction of every second without missing a beat, not giving the other a chance to gain an advantage over themselves. Those orbs have no glimmer of the emotions she's used to seeing in them, distorting his face into a stranger for her. Noura gasps, having never witnessed him like this before-- like a caged animal kept starved and released only for bloodshed. This is how the man in front of her looks like-- like a beast and unlike the man she has always known him to be.

"Hafez?"

"Yes, sayidati?"

"Tell me something about general Eskander too."

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So, about the queen?

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