I'm a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my crypresses.

— Fredrick Nietzsche

"WHERE ARE YOU going?"

It's a question she had expect. It's not a voice she's surprised to hear. If she's to leave the palace at unfavorable hours of the day, she knows she'll be confronted by him. Yet these are the hours of the day she seeks her peace in.

Turning around, Rahaf looks at her interrupter. The dawn sky is still dark and very little light falls on the figure approaching her. But she doesn't need to see his face to know who he is.

"For a horse ride," she replies.

"At dawn?"

"Yes, why?"

Marrar looks at Masruq standing behind her.

"Go and ask Tabrez to accompany you," he orders.

Rahaf knits her brows, displeased hearing at his instructions. "Why?"

"For the same reason you took him when you allowed Ameer Furat to join you for a walk through the city."

His tone gives away his own displeasure that he doesn't attempt to hide.

"That was a different situation. But I'm going alone now. I've my guard with me."

"Another guard wouldn't hurt."

"Tabrez is not my guard," she argues.

"I know. But the Ameer will be at peace knowing his guard is with you."

"General."

Rahaf fixes his eyes. Though she understands him sometimes, other times she wishes he too would understand her and allow her to bend the rules that have become chains at her ankles.

"I don't need an army to follow me whenever I go out of the palace."

But Marrar ignores her and directs to Masruq, "What did I ask you? Go and carry my orders."

Masruq tips his head and leaves. Frustrated at being put under a watch like this, she steps before him.

"Marrar?"

Though Rahaf feels angry at him, she cannot bring herself to speak to him with bitterness. His eyes instantly flick to her upon hearing his name— his name that she has long stopped calling him by ever since he became a general than a friend of her brother.

"Sometimes I need to step out of this world," she says, unable to contain her the emotions in her heart as the tumble off her tongue. "Don't try to keep me a prisoner in this gilded cage. Sometimes just let me forget who I am or where I belong, please."

The deep green of his eyes are set ablaze. They turn warm as his previous hard expression dissolves into one of understanding and affection. Marrar blinks and quickly averts his gaze.

"Amira," he says as he pinches the skin between his eyebrows, as if conflicted about what he's to share next. Then he looks at her, this time with something indecipherable. "The reason Ameer Aswad changed plans and returned to the capital early when he was supposed to be carrying his duties away was because he was attacked. And though nothing bad happened, praise be to God, what matters is that you know a threat remains to your family— that someone out there wants to kill the caliph and that they may try to harm you or the Malika as well. So for the sake of yourself and your family, be more reasonable and let me do my duty. Don't make things difficult for me. Don't worry your brother. And for the love of the Lord of heavens and the earth, don't put yourself in vulnerable situations."

Flabbergasted, Rahaf can only stare at him. She almost opens her mouth to demand why such a thing was kept hidden from her, but Marrar lifts his palm to shush her.

"Don't ask me anything. I was instructed by the Ameer not to say anything about the threat to his life. So I didn't say anything, and you didn't hear anything."

But Rahaf shakes her head against his proposal.

"Tell me you found the culprit."

"Amira—"

"Who dared so?"

"I will find them."

A sound escapes her mouth somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. She steps away from Marrar, suddenly finding herself before a chasm that swallowed her family over the years. Now she has only Aswad left. And Rahaf cannot have his life suspended by a thin thread that may snap anytime.

"You do not tell me that, Marrar."

Though she knows he's doing his best to guard the life of his caliph, she needs assurance which unfortunately Marrar is unable to provide her. She knows she's kept oblivious to a thousand things, but she refuses to be made a fool at anyone's hands.

"Did you find who poisoned my father?" Rahaf demands, more desperate than enraged as she speaks to him. "Did you find who murdered Tahman? Even when you used to consider him a brother than a friend, you couldn't save him or find his criminal. Then how do I know you will be able to guard Aswad's life?"

Marrar frowns, her lack of faith in him seemingly hurting him. "Do you not trust me?"

"I need more than words. I need answers. Someone to rely on. Why am I left running circles with a blindfold on my eyes? Why won't you tell me the truth?"

"Rahaf."

It's not him who says her name. It's a voice much grounding. Her gaze snaps to her brother who stands watching her with those unfathomable eyes of his that remind her of their father. She can never read them to tell what they express. She cannot know what he's thinking or feeling.

Marrar turns around and rushes to put distance between himself and her, tipping his head at the caliph.

"My Ameer."

"Don't be angry at my general, Rahaf. He does as I command him to do so."

"You and your general lie to me, ya akhi," she replies, not letting her gaze waver before his dominating one. "Did I not ask you if all was well upon your earlier arrival at the palace? Someone tried to cause you harm yet you lied to me and assured me that all was well. Why are all these things kept a secret from me?"

Aswad ties his hands behind his back and walks towards her. He comes to stand before her and Rahaf looks up at him. This close, she can spot a glimpse of conflict and worry on his face.

"Some things have costed me my peace," he says to her. "Believe me, azizati, if you were to learn them you would've wished you had remained ignorant to them." Then he gives her a small smile and pats her cheek, once again reminding her of their father— a gesture making her feel both loved and hurt. "You may go for your horse ride. Tabrez is waiting for you at the stables."

Her eyes meet Marrar's who is swift to look away, his features pulled taut and his eyes guilty. Without arguing anymore, Rahaf turns around and makes her way towards the stables.

THE FOREST IS serene as the sky above it. The canopy of trees filter sunlight into all forms of patterns. The sun has now completely left the horizon and the day is bright, yet the scent of winter lingers everywhere around her— in the air and on the frost wrapping the leaves. And in her heart.

Her horse trots forward between the trees, moving much slowly than her bizarrely revolving thoughts. She had left the palace looking for a moment of tranquility, but it appears to her the peace she so sought isn't destined for her to be found today.

"Amira?" Tabrez calls her.

She glances back at him.

"We shouldn't get any further into the forest, my Amira."

"I don't want to return yet."

"The territory ahead is dangerous, sayyidati. The trees get thicker and neither me nor Masruq is well acquainted with the area. The Ameer prohibited us from going any further."

Rahaf pulls the reins of her horse and it comes to a halt. She stares into the dense, darkening forest ahead of her. Though the path before her is lit due to daylight, she doesn't know what she might find in there if she's to cross into the forbidden territory.

Curiosity gnaws at her. On one hand, she wants to pay heed to Aswad's warning and not go any further. On the other hand, a much darker thought urges her to disobey all the rules and explore what lies beyond the palace walls.

"The forest is beautiful. I don't know why you would scare the Amira like that."

Rahaf jerks to her right as another voice joins in. A familiar emerges from the woods holding the reins of his horse as it follows after him.

"Ameer Furat?" Rahaf tilts her head, both in greeting and surprise at finding him here. He only smiles and tips his head, returning her greetings.

"There's a river up ahead leading to a waterfall if you follow it northward. Secluded and very relaxing. If you go further, the forest opens into breathtaking meadows. I suggest you explore it sometime, Amira. I'm sure you'll like it."

Rahaf dismounts her horse. Tabrez and Masruq do the same and she lifts her hand, indicating that they don't come any near. She goes up to Furat.

His hair is windswept. He, too, probably was horseriding. Rahaf cannot tell if his irises are the color of honey or soil. Every time he moves his head, they change a thousand shades of gold. Then every time the wind rustles the leaves and they cast shadows over his eyes, they turn to a bottomless ocean— bottomless and colorless.

"I see you've been exploring around, sayyidi."

The smile on his face broadens. "I can show you around."

"You can show me around my own home?"

Furat chuckles, a little sardonically, but Rahaf doesn't miss the note of bitter melancholy that slips into it.

"I'm a boy from the outskirts of Qurtuba. True, I've lived my life on the sea, but don't consider me an outcast. I still know places unknown to many."

"My apologies. That was never my intention," Rahaf is quick to excuse, feeling embarrassed that she may have upset him.

His expression blends into a playful one and his smile returns. "Apology accepted."

Despite the uneventful start of her day that had her feeling down, Rahaf finds herself smiling back at him.

"Do you come here often, Ameer Furat?"

He nods. "Rouzbeh and I used to race horses when we were young. I used to beat him. But now he beats me." He pets the forelock of his horse. "This boy is good. I come to train him. Rouzbeh joins me sometimes, but mostly it's just me and him."

"Perhaps Ameer Rouzbeh is now better trained as a soldier and a horseman than when you were young, he's able to beat you. But I'm sure it will be different if you're on a ship."

"Perhaps I've become rusty," he admits and looks back at her. "You come here for horseriding too?"

"Sometimes," she shares. "My circumstances don't allow me to escape from the palace as frequently."

"How did you manage to escape to Al Mariyya and find me at the brothel that night?"

Rahaf can only stare at him. Suddenly his face is a wooden mask of apathy. She doesn't know if it's a genuine query or he's being ironic.

"Lovely coincidence, wasn't it?" He busies himself with petting the mane of his horse, his voice low as if whispering a secret meant to remain only between them. "Or perhaps fate. I wonder what it was. But lovely nonetheless."

For a moment, she's frozen before him, unable to find a response. He confuses her with his words as he did once before too. Rahaf is left lost trying to decipher him.

"And I wonder where you find the courage to be this coquettish with me?" she manages to ask.

Furat bites his lips, and it agitates her to see him fighting a grin.

"My position demands me to be courageous, my Amira."

"Does it teaches you to be an enticer too?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Then what is it you're trying to do, sayyidi?" she inquires straightforwardly. "Because I'm afraid it's not the first time you've said such a thing to me. And I'm afraid I cannot keep forgiving such imprudence."

"Will I be getting lashed?"

Rahaf strangles him with her glare but to no avail. The man before her has the audacity to remain unaffected— to ask her such a thing so naively.

"If you desire so," she says

"I believe it's unfair to lash a man who is merely trying to convey what's in his heart to you."

She's once more left dumbfounded by him. This time it isn't his boldness that has baffled her, but the implication of his words itself. The breath she had drawn is left stuck in her throat.

Furat clears his throat, as if trying to let go of his own breath that too is stuck, his previous playfulness completely replaced by the sobriety of his expression. He holds and breaks her gaze a million times, but when she doesn't say anything he's forced to.

"I can show you the waterfall ahead if you like," he offers, as if having never said what has just left his mouth— as if trying to take back his words.

"Thank you, sayyidi, but I must return to the palace now," Rahaf declines politely, as if she too hasn't heard anything.

Furat only nods. Not staying a second longer, he takes the reins of his horse and disappear in the woods.

ASWAD SITS BEFORE the burnt out fire in fireplace as his thoughts rage and lull like a storm in the sea. The chamber is cold and his robe can only provide him with so much warmth. Yet he remains unbothered as he twirls the ring on his finger wandering in his own head.

The metal of his ring feels cold as well. He presses a finger to it as he stops toying with it. It once belonged to his late father. It now belongs to him. And there were many who tried to take what rightfully belongs to him, but each has met a pitiful fate. Each traitor always will.

Your vizier is a traitor, my Khalifa. Kanan wants to kill you and marry marry the Amira so he can become the next potential candidate in line for the throne.

"If Furat has spoken the truth, I'll make you an example for the world, Kanan," Aswad grits, clenching and unclenching his jaw. "Tabrez!" he calls his guard.

Tabrez enters the chamber, ready to receive his orders.

"Burn the fire."

He gets to it right away. Within seconds, the fireplace is a home to brilliantly burning flames.

"Tabrez?"

"Yes, my Ameer?"

"Follow Kanan like a shadow and inform me of everything you find about him. And send a message to my officials to make themselves available tomorrow morning in the throne room for an important announcement."

"As you say, sayyidi."

Tabrez leaves, but the doors soon open again as someone comes in. The footsteps come closer and a moment later a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. A smile forms on his lips.

"Adara."

"The chamber is cold."

"Tabrez just burnt the fire." He cranes his neck slightly so they face each other. "Where have you been?"

"Did you miss me?" she asks teasingly, pecking his cheek, and he knows this is her way of dodging the question.

"Where have you been?" Aswad repeats more sternly, leaving no room for deflections.

Adara let go of him and moves nearer the fire. She sits down on the floor, the intricately woven pearls on her dress turning golden in the glow from the orange flames. Aswad watches her from where he's sitting on the divan.

"I was with Rahaf."

"And?"

"I'm sure you already know, but she told me she ran into Ameer Furat in the forest today."

"Tabrez informed me." He leans forward. "Did Rahaf say anything to you?"

"Nothing worth mentioning. Although I've been thinking something."

Adara turns to him, and he arches an eyebrow at her, intrigued.

"Habibi, I think the possibility of ending Rahaf's betrothal to Ameer Kanan has opened doors of interest for Ameer Furat. Perhaps he's aware of his friend's true nature and knows that this relationship might not stand too long."

Aswad takes in her words, unsurprised, and Adara patiently waits for his response.

"This is to be expected, Adara. The more people find out about the possibility of the betrothal ending, the more suitors there might be willing to marry Rahaf."

Adara gives him a look as if he has gone blind— as if foolish. This time, he waits for her to speak whatever is on her mind.

"Why do you need to look any further for her when there's general Marrar?"

Her question comes like a hammer at an old, sore wound somewhere deep within him. Aswad frowns at the thought of marrying Rahaf to his general, instantly repelled by the idea. Adara has unknowingly stepped on a raw nerve of his.

"No," he rejects at once, giving her no explanation as she looks at him expectantly.

"But why not?" Adara now turns to face him completely, her back to the fire the glow of which outlines her form for him. "The general comes from a noble family. His father served your father. He himself has spent his life serving Ameer Tahman first, and now you. He's your most trusted man. You've known him all your life. You know he'll treasure Rahaf always."

"I said no, Adara," Aswad declines more firmly, leaving no room for argument. "There's no man any better than Marrar I know, but just not for my sister. So you better not mention him to me again."

"But why?"

"Because I said so."

"But—"

"Enough," he cuts her harshly, furious at her insistence. "I'm your Khalifa. Will you question my decisions now?"

Though she gives up the argument and holds back her tongue, her eyes blaze more vehemently in fury than his own.

"No, my Ameer, you know better."

Guilty of his reaction upon seeing her hurt expression, Aswad stands up from the divan and goes to kneel before her.

"Malikati."

He reaches for her but she tilts away her face.

"Be good."

This time she allows her to cup her cheek. Aswad caresses it with his thumb.

"My savior, never be my slayer. You're dear to my heart, Adara."

She finally meets his eyes at his gentle request. Aswad smiles softly at her, but she doesn't return it. Adara holds the collar of his shirt in both of her hands and tugs him to herself.

"I hate you, my Khalifa."

She kisses his lips.

"But I love you, husband beloved."

She kisses him again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

I miss you. I miss me. I miss this world of fiction.