Whether you come as a lover or as an executioner, I am ready to receive you.

— Agustin Gómez-Arcos

✵

Him

"A messenger from Isfahan insists to meet you."

"What does he want, Zahir?"

"He says he brings you a message," his vizier informs him. "From your wife, sayidi."

He lifts his eyes from the papers in his hands to Zahir and arches a skeptical eyebrow. His wife hasn't ever send him any message in all their time apart. Then how now?

"Bring him in," he orders and his vizier tips his head before presenting the man before him.

"Marhaba, my Ameer," the man greets him. "I was instructed to assure that the letter I'm given reaches the governor of Qahira, so I had to deliver it to you myself."

He produces a scroll from his tunic and presents it to him. He takes it from him, suddenly feeling both tense and thrilled. But the emotions soon turn to uncontrollable rage as he reads the letter, one snapping string of patience away from setting the courtroom on fire and sticking a spike through the heart of the man daring to come between him and his lover.

After all these months away from you waiting for you, I've come to the conclusion that you probably have moved on and won't return. There's a man I wish to marry. For that I require you to divorce me so I can move on with my life too. Either you come to me or I request the court of Khalifa Sulaiman bin Khalid to take care of the matter.

Noura Al Makhzum.

Her

"Noura khanum?"

"Yes, Roya?"

"Your husband sent a messenger again."

"Uh huh. Did you send him back?"

"Eskander agha (sir) caught me with him; he sent me back."

She looks up from the dress in her hand which she's doing embroidery on, the needle stilling halfway through the fabric at Roya's words. "When?"

"This morning," Roya replies. "I was watering the plants outside the house when a man arrived and said that the governor of Qahira had send him. He demanded to see you. I led him away from the house so no will find out, but agha found us. He was with Laleh khanum."

Noura doesn't know whether to ask her about the messenger or about Laleh and Eskander? She has no idea why the messenger required to meet her, such a request was never made before now, but she has an idea why Eskander might be with Laleh and it makes her gut twist. He's going to tell Laleh things that might make her question him as her choice of interest for marriage. Roya increases her worry when she adds.

"The messenger brought you a letter, khanum."

This snaps her out of her thoughts and she instantly puts away the dress in her hands. "Where is it?"

"Eskander agha took it."

"Where is Eskander?"

"I don't know, khanum. He hasn't returned home yet."

Noura urgently gets up and hurries outside her room. "Azar!" she calls her guard who doesn't take a minute appearing before her.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Where is Eskander?"

"He took his horse to the hills, khanum."

"Bring me my horse. I need to see him right now."

"But he might just return. He said he'd be back by the noon."

The option of waiting for him sounds like a torture than the one to go after him which seems rather appealing. But something holds her back. He's with Laleh. He needs to speak to her about the things that chain him away from her. He needs to make his mind about her and let her reconsider her decision about him too. If she still accepts him after learning his truth, she'll free him. If not, she'll free herself of the prospect of them together.

Noura releases a trembling breath and dismisses Azar with the wave of her hand. She spends the hours waiting for Eskander but he doesn't return, not until late afternoon when half of the day is already gone. As he finally walks inside the house and finds her restlessly running to him, Noura knows he doesn't need her words to explain what she wants from him.

"Eskander--"

"Later," he carefully cuts her, "after the ceremony."

She blinks at him in confusion. "What ceremony?"

"Where is maman?" He walks past her outside into the lawn. She follows after him absently. They find their mother busy clearing up the dried, fallen leaves from the trees, having gathered them into a pile. "Maman?"

Eskander makes his way towards her and she stops at his voice, turning towards him. "Where were you, azizem? You didn't come for lunch. Did you eat?"

"I did." He holds her arms. "Maman, I've a something to tell you."

"Yes, Eskander jan?"

"Would you ask dayi to give Laleh's hand in marriage to me? I want to make her my wife."

If she's shocked to hear this, her mother is more so. She gasps, covering her mouth as she asks him, "You're not joking, are you?"

He shakes his head. Tears of joy suddenly fill her eyes before she pulls Eskander into an embrace.

"Eskander, janem, would you really marry Laleh?" Her mother sobs.

He hugs her to his chest. "Yes, maman."

"Do you truly want to?"

"With all my heart."

"You're not agreeing to it because of me or--"

"No. I've made this decision out of my own free will. Laleh is beautiful to me, inside out." He looks at her where she's still watching the scene unfold with a dumbfounded expression-- still in a state of disbelief that he has actually agreed to what remained impossible until recently. He gives her a soft smile. "I'm coming to like her."

"You've made me so happy, my son."

Noura manages a small smile back, her own eyes watering. She feels happy for him, for Laleh, and for her mother. Eskander will finally build a home of his own, and she grateful to God for it, to have turned his heart.

It is the same evening that she visits her uncle with her mother taking the proposal, which, of course, Laleh's family gladly accepts. Congratulations are exchanged, the engagement ceremony takes place, and a date for the nikkah (wedding) is fixed. Laleh appears to be floating up above on the clouds of seventh heaven. The grin on her face is contiguous, and Noura cannot help her own.

"I can die now, and I can die happy, Nour." She sighs blissfully as they sit on the chairs at the veranda of her uncle's house. "I've dreamt of this moment all my life."

"Pity how I never understood your feelings towards Eskander and only learnt when you told me yourself."

"He's your... brother. I was shy of you."

Noura cannot be sure if the hesitancy in her tone is only her imagination, or if Eskander has told her something that has caused the reaction. But she doesn't dwell onto it. Whatever exchange took between them remains between them, and she finds it better not to pry. But then Laleh says gingerly, as if not meaning to be heard, threading her fingers slowly.

"He said: I'm not the most loveable man. I said: allow me to prove you wrong. He said: what if you come to regret your choice? I said: the only regret will be not taking the chance if I let you go. He said: if I still say no? I said: I'll patiently endure my Lord's decree."

"But he didn't say no," Noura replies in assurance.

Laleh smiles and looks up at the sky. "But I thought he might. It scared me. Then he asked me: why do you want to marry me, Laleh? And I replied: love, Eskander. And he asked: why do you love me, Laleh? So I replied: heart, Eskander. And he asked: what if I break your heart? So I replied: you break it if you leave now or you break it later if you stay, if breaking it is the intention then I've already broken it by giving it to you-- then I'm to be blamed, not you." She chuckles at this and turns back to Noura. "You know what he said?"

"What?"

"You already have a broken heart, Laleh, because you took mine and mine is broken. But yours that I hold I will not break-- not now, not later."

Noura reaches out to squeeze her hand. Laleh squeezes hers back, the smile still adorning his face.

"Nour?"

"Yes?"

"He told me many things, and I told him what lied behind him doesn't concern me if he has chosen to start anew with me. I'm ready to fight for him through all circumstances, and be by his side in any situation."

"I believe in you, Laleh. And I believe Eskander will do the same for you."

She looks at her in appreciation. "Thank you." Letting go of her hand, she confesses, "I've loved him for a very long time, ever since I developed this attraction of a woman for a man. He's my first. I always asked God for him. I prayed to Him to make him my last."

"Look, God has answered your prayers. Your nikkah will be held soon. May our Lord bless it for you both."

"Ameen." Laleh closes her eyes, palm over her heart. "Ameen," she repeats.

Noura can only pray that the joy which they seek, may that be bestowed upon them. And that which she has lost, she finds it again.

When they return home, she can read the mirth in Eskander's eyes. She knows there's no veil this time, no attempt to hide what his heart beholds. He permits it to show.

When their mother has retired to her room and they're left alone, they find themselves once more on the stairs of their veranda, but under different conditions now. There's a comfortable silence between them, and the moon unlike before is a thick crescent whilst the sky is still a mosaic of stars. The nightingales sing a joyful song tonight, and the roses sway to them in ecstasy. She feels at peace.

"Are you happy?" she questions Eskander after a while.

"I am."

"Me too."

"I'm glad."

"Are you excited for your nikkah?"

"Yes, but also a little nervous."

"All will be well."

"God willing."

Silence. Then she asks what has been crushing her all day, "Adam sent me a letter?"

"He did."

"Will you give it to me?"

He looks at her. "I will."

She waits for him to hand it over, but her doesn't. Instead, he inquires her.

"He has been sending his messenger to you often?"

She knows there's no room for lying, no point in denying, so she nods. "But only with gold and gifts that I always refused to keep and returned back to him. He never sent me a letter before now."

"He still wouldn't have, had I not sent him a letter under your name."

Noura frowns in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

He pulls out the letter from under his belt and holds it out to her. Her breath hitches. These will be the words she'll be hearing from him after a year and a half. This will end the distance of eternity between them that he had created. Her fingers shake as she takes it from him.

"I haven't read it," Eskander tells her. "But after what I wrote to him, I know what this letter holds." He stands up, giving her the privacy to read the letter alone. "I've kept my promise to you, Nour. Your husband will return to you soon." He makes his way inside, letting out a short, ironic laugh. "In fact, I must have made him come running back to you."

When he leaves, she quickly takes out the letter from the scroll and unrolls it. The rapid rising and falling of her chest is enough of an evidence that her heart has already gone berserk in its cage. As her gaze jumps from word to word to make sense of his message, she not only realizes that Adam certainly will return to her, actually running as Eskander has stated, but also the bait that Eskander has used to lure him back.

I might had been gone from your life temporarily, but I didn't die for you to take a man beside me. Whoever he is you plan to marry, either you send him to the other end of the world away from yourself or I send him to grave out of this world once I return. Wait for me, farasha, our separation is soon to end.

She reads the letter a thousand times, until she numbs to feel anything and crumbles it in her fist. Noura leans down to rest her forehead against her knees and shuts her eyes. If the thought of losing her scares him so much, what has kept him away so long? She has questions for him, stacks upon stacks, and he better have answers to earn her forgiveness.

The night goes black and then lights back into the day. Until night adds to another night, and then another, and so on. Until the moon grows from crescent into full again. All around her people keep moving, things keep changing, but she remains stagnant in time. She keeps waiting.

It is Eskander and Laleh's nikkah the coming day and the evening before she sits with Roya in the lawn. Her mother has left with Eskander to take care of the remaining preparations. The house is decorated with flowers, furniture is arranged, and candles are set for tomorrow's evening-- the hour of the marriage. Roya is painting both her hands with henna for her and she watches in awe as her maid creates the art.

"You draw beautifully, Roya," Noura compliments. "Where did you learn the designs?"

She chuckles sheepishly and waves it off. "Oh no, khanum. These are your hands it looks beautiful upon."

Noura only smiles in gratitude.

"Eskander agha and Laleh khanum must be elated," Roya comments. "They already look so lovely together."

"True," Noura agrees. "May it be so forever."

"Ameen, khanum." Roya finishes the design before adding, "You sure will look exquisite in the dress you're going to wear. The color suits you so well."

"You think?"

"Yes, and as you should. You're the groom's sister after all. Everyone will have their eyes on you."

Noura laughs lightly at her statement and hums in amusement. "And as you should too, Roya. Who knows, we might find a groom for you as well."

Roya blushes at her remark and brushes it off timidly, appearing mortified. "I don't think so, khanum."

A knock comes at the front door. None of them bother, expecting Azar to answer it, who's left behind to guard the house. But when the knock comes the second time, Noura looks at Roya.

"Where is Azar at?"

Roya stands up and places the henna cup down. "I'll go check. Your mother and agha could've returned."

She excuses herself and Noura is left to blow at the henna on her hands, still admiring Roya's artwork. Laleh must have colored her hands too, in Eskander's name. She smiles at the thought. Her cousin will look heavenly tomorrow, doubtlessly, and Eskander will fall for her harder than ever if he hasn't already.

As her musings knit into one another, she doesn't realize someone sneaking up on her from behind until the shadow falls over her and it's too late. With her hands covered in henna, she cannot immediately reach for her dagger and instinctively tries to leap away. And as if the invader had predicted her move, he puts his own blade to her throat to halt any attempts from her. She freezes and he leans over her, snaking an arm around her waist and jerking her back against a solid chest.

A deep, almost sinful and dangerously alarming, yet all too familiar voice tickles her ear when it flows like a song of love and resurrection, setting her whole body afire and sending a buzz in the air as it asks her,

"Who have you painted these hands for, farasha?"

✵

Guess who?

✵