The open window blasted in cool fresh air into her musty room, making her shiver under her blankets all night, ushering the sleep away. Not only did the blissful wind make her body tremble, but so did the nightmares that ate away at her soul, seeming to leave her in what I feel to be utter darkness.
When she woke, she was gasping in all the air that she could muster down her dry throat. Sweat slid down her forehead, her nightgown wet from it. As she opened my eyes, her vision was blurry. Tears. She had been crying during the night. Aisha jumped off the bed, heading towards the bathroom basin where she splashed the cold water onto my face, waking up her whole body and washing away any sign of tears. Memories of her nightmares filtered away like dust as she scrubbed her face, her eyes and her nose clean.
From the open window she could see the faint golden flow of the rising sun. It was fajr. Slowly, she made my way to my dressing room, scouring for a simple dress that she could wear for morning breakfast with her family, the King and Queen of Alkuthban.
She found a pale yellow Jilbab with blue and green flowers hand stitched at the surplice neckline, the material made of cotton that made it so much easier to bear the terrible heat of the desert. As for her hair, she styled the coal black strands into a neat bun that would spare her from the burden of her thick, silky hair. She took a deep breath, steeling my nerves before leaving to seek out the rest of the family.
As she walked out of her room, her maid, Tahira stepped behind her, her feet trying to keep up with Aisha’s pace. “Your Majesty, you should have called me so I could dress you up this morning!”
“Do I look bad, Tahira?” Aisha smirked, turning to look back at her maid. “No. no! You look beautiful as always, Your Majesty, but I am your maid for a reason. It is my job and you are stealing it away!”
“Tahira. You are my friend, not only my maid.” Tahira sighed at Aisha’s reply before whispering, “It is still my job.”
“And I am relieving you of it.” Aisha placed a comforting hand on Tahira’s shoulder. “You should rest, Tahira. You overwork yourself. When I don’t burden you with all my complaints and dirty clothes, you always find some other work to busy yourself with. Go see your family Tahira. Take a day’s rest.”
“That is very kind of you, Your Majesty.” Tahira’s face softened as she bowed her head down, but Aisha could still notice the slight guilt in her eyes. Tahira loved her job. Reluctantly, Tahira turned to walk away.
Aisha picked up her pace, walking through the hallway. She walked down the golden hallway of the Dahabi palace, taking in her home. It felt brighter, more alive as maids and nobles scurried around the palace in a rush. A man fit in a brown tunic and leather braces walked up to her, an expression of neutrality on his face. A golden brooch was clipped on the left breast of his breaches, presenting him as a man with an air of importance.
“Your Majesty.” His voice was rough as he bowed at her. Aisha stared at him, steeling her expression. “The King and Queen are dining in the foyer. They ask for your attendance.”
“I am on my way.” She waved the man off, her expression in complete disinterest as he walked behind her.
At dawn it was cold, the wind would take her captive in a cage of merciless frost. Now, the temperature had risen, and the sun shining in an orange sheen cast heat down on everyone. Her tense shoulders relaxed as she walked out into the warm garden. Aisha felt at home with the glaring sun and the restless heat. She was so familiar with the sweat drenched days that she didn’t mind the heat anymore. Instead, she found a sort of beauty to it, especially the flowering sun on the dunes just far back which made her admire the golden sand despite the fact she saw it everyday.
Aisha made her way to the center of the garden where roses bloomed and the leaves gleamed green with the orange glow of the sun. A white patio with rose pink chiffon that acted as a curtain separating the royal family from all else in the garden.
Aisha stepped onto the wooden platform, the wood creaking as she made her way to the table at the center of the patio where her parents and sister sat. Jamila, ever the scholar, was completing another set of notes - on who knows what. “Aisha!” Her mother called, smiling a toothy grin that brightened Aisha’s day. Even her Baba smiled as she rounded the corner. First, she reached her father, planting a kiss on his forehead, then she walked over to her mother, giving her a hug before approaching the empty seat next to Jamela. “It has been a while since I last saw you.” Mama proclaimed. Mama is much like Jamela, kind hearted, spirited and sometimes emotional. But I inherited much of her traits as well. Mama is strong-willed, works to get what she wants and she was a strong warrior - born from the muharib clan. She was a warrior in blood and duty.
Servants brought platters of cheese, grapes and olives, placing it on the mosaic table. Another girl rushed forward, holding a jug of water and a flask of hot karak. She walked towards the King who asked for a hot cup of black tea with milk. The young girl then circled the rest of the table, pouring from the same flask of hot tea for the rest of the malakiun family.
“Aisha, we have an important matter to speak about this morning.” Father looked at her, his dark brown eyes betraying his feelings of anger and revenge. Aisha looked at her mother questioningly, looking for any sort of answer to discern her fathers mood this morning, however her mothers bright smile fell, the image of her face now stern and cold. The foul mood that suddenly burst, contorting the bright day into a realm of shadows, had Aisha choking on her chai.
“What is it?” Her voice sounded rough in her own ears. Suspicion clouded her judgment as she stared at her parents intently. She knew that whatever they had to say would be something she would regret to hear.
“Aisha. You know how Alkuthban is under the threat of war by the Kingdom of Mortar.” Aisha nodded reluctantly at her fathers remark. The Kingdom of Mortar led the Darm wolves - their vicious army - that was slowly moving near the lands of Alkuthban. The army was gathering on the mountain border separating both countries. “We need to take precautions. We need more power - a bigger army to fight by our sides.”
“I personally don’t think so. We have the strongest army in all of the realm-’’ Jamela looked around at the eyes glaring at her for interrupting the current conversation. “What! I have studied about the armies in our Kingdom as well as Thalabedand Mortar profusely!”
Baba sighed, his hands covering his face. “Aisha. The Darm wolves are building their ranks. Our own cannot compare to theirs. They might even have bigger numbers within their ranks than our own army. They have been preparing for the moment to conquer our lands-” Aisha could hear the hidden comment ‘just like we had once done’. Baba continued after a brief pause, “ Imagine the power they can get by laying their flag on Alkuthban. On our golden dunes. They would ruin it.”
“I understand, it would be a bloodshed.”
Baba nodded, his eyes shadowed by a large wave of gray. He choked on his next words so mama replied in his stead. “My dear daughter. You are the next queen. We, your father and I, have to sacrifice our crown. It is time for you to take your throne.” Aisha could see her mother take in a deep, shaky breath. “It is time for you to wed.”
It was as if her heart stopped beating. Previously, Aisha didn’t imagine that such a phrase would have such a deep impact on her life despite the fact that she always knew that this time would always come. This news had been looming over her ever since she understood the matter when she was seven years of age. She always knew that my parents would force her to wed someone of great title and wealth. But in some weird, wicked way in which her mind truly betrays her from time to time, she simply didn’t expect the time to come so soon. She did not expect the Dahabi crown to be hers so soon.
Memories flitted through her mind. She remembered the boy, the boy that had joked about her weakness, who had taken many lengths to comment about her frail form and weak mind.
If only he could see her now.
“It is time.” Mama whispered, her voice trailing away in the hot wind.
“When will they come?” Aisha felt she had to know. She needed time to prepare herself before her life would be sold away to a complete stranger. To her rival. To someone she truly hates.
“This afternoon.”
“So soon?”
“Aisha. This is a necessary step for our Kingdom. This is important, and I know you will do anything for Alkuthban. YourKingdom needs this. Do what is right, my dear daughter.”
Did she do anything right all this time? Anything that her Kingdom truly needed? Was it the right thing to kill those people? They weren’t innocents for all she knew. They deserved to die a painful death after all. She had sacrificed a little blood for her people and kingdom, to keep them safe from the evil surrounding them, borrowed in the inner depths of the Kingdom. People who truly did not belong to Alkuthban but were spies, betraying the people’s trust. They were dangerous people after all. She always had to tell herself this. Creating excuses for her kills did not wash away the thick layer of blood that she kept on imagining on her hand.
Aisha suddenly couldn’t handle sitting her anymore. Now she could truly feel the heat of the sun, the warm wind making my throat constrict. She stood, pushing away her chair. “I will take some time alone. Jamela, please come to alert me when the guests arrive.” There was a bitterness on her tongue as bile climbed its way up her throat. She looked at my mother, sadness claiming her tired expression. Her baba was focused on his chai, swirling it around in the cup. Jamelanodded in reply.
“The wedding will come next week.” Mama said before Aisha stepped off the platform. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves as she stepped off the platform and walked into the garden. Next week she would sell her life to him. Today, she would live her life as it is. As it once was.
Aisha made her way back to her room, her Jilbab billowing out behind her as warm wind brushed her thighs. Her door creaked open, revealing her messy and tattered room. The room would remain so, a mess, until Tahira comes tomorrow. She had dismissed her for the day after all. Aisha ran behind the changing screen where her black jumpsuit lined with faint red was thrown atop a small green chaise. It held a metallic aroma that made her nose itch but she ignored the tingle and dressed in the black cotton suit. She then clipped on the black coat woven with golden thread on her neck and slipped into her knee high boots, making her way near my door where her scabbard lay on the pale yellow walls. She drew the sword, the steel hissing as she pulled it out from the sheath. The sword had a hilt made of white crystal with green embedded jewels.
She decided she would let out some anger before her future husband would arrive.
She pulled on her hood and left the palace at her wake, making her way to the busy streets of Alkuthban.
ns 15.158.61.46da2
