Please — consider me a dream.

— Franz Kafka

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Him

His father sits by the fireplace as he cleans his sword and he lies in his mother's lap on the divan. His eyes study the glinting blade in the orange glow of the fire, his small body curled up as his mother runs her fingers through his hair, smiling down at him.

"What are you thinking, my prince?" she asks softly.

"When can I have a sword like baba?"

"When you're a little more bigger, habibi."

"But I'm grown up already," he argues and his father looks up at him with a fond smile.

"This one is too heavy for you, namiri (my tiger). What about the one I got you?"

"I gave it to Noura."

He lifts both eyebrows. "And who might Noura be?"

"My friend."

"Al Makhzum's daughter," his mother clarifies. "The advisor in the council."

His father hums in recognition. "So, your friend likes swords, son?"

Her

The night is long, but the wait is longer. Sometimes living the moments before the actual moment is what causes death of the heart when the heart can no longer cope with the apprehension of what awaits us.

She keeps tossing and turning in her bed for hours but sleep doesn't come to her. After what she has done and what is to come, she knows sleep is stolen from her for nights ahead. It's not only the act itself, but the consequences of her action that too she must endure. And she has no idea how she's going to do it. What she knows is that she cannot marry the Khalifa because the cost of it is her freedom-- she'll eternally become his slave. Now to save herself if she has to marry Adam, she might as well take the chance than make a sacrifice.

Noura goes out on her balcony where the rain is still falling. Despite the chill in the air, she doesn't mind stepping under the pouring sky and watch the black blanket having enveloped everything into oblivion of an impending mayhem. She lets the droplets touch her skin and glide down it, shivering both at the cold and her thoughts.

In the dark spread without any boundaries, she catches sight of a figure below walking through the gardens towards the stables. She doesn't need to squint and see who it is; she knows at this hour, it can be only one person. He stops as if sensing her eyes on him and turns to look in her direction. Noura cannot make out his face, yet the intensity of that gaze can unsettle her anytime, anywhere-- hollow yet full of something cryptic. He promises her of a war on the bay and she readies herself for it beforehand.

But what good are preparations when one is ignorant to the myriad secrets that can take away one's bliss?

Whatever little light the torches lit around the palace give out, it only highlights his figure and she watches as he pulls the hood of his cloak over his head, the rain soaking him, before he turns his back to her and walks away.

When he's out of her sight, Noura returns to her chamber, the hair on her body standing in nervousness. Adam has already left, and soon she'll have to leave too.

She doesn't know how she cuts the time-- overthinking, moving between the balcony and her chamber, pacing around restlessly, watching the sky change colors until the first ray of sun pierce through the horizon and begins to break the dawn, the sound of the rain only a dull echo now as it dims. That is when her hearts stills as a knock on her door comes.

She has already changed into dry clothes with a cloak over them. Noura goes to the door and cracks it open, peeking outside cautiously.

"Who is it?"

"Sayidati, it's Daud," a man says. "Adam has sent me."

She opens the door now and finds a cloaked man standing by the wall, where her guards are lying passed out, having his eyes downcast. Noura takes in the unconscious men, feeling guilty inside.

Hafez wasn't the one to guard her door tonight, so thankfully he isn't there. But she cannot have him arriving at the crime scene and getting fed up with her imprudent actions. She must be done over with it soon.

"Lead the way."

He tips his head and Noura follows him as he leads her through the empty corridors, not the usual ones she walks around through the palace, and takes her outside. Instead of going to the stables, he takes another route.

"Where are we going?" she asks him, fingers subconsciously curling around her dagger.

"We'll be leaving through the back of the palace, sayidati," he informs her. "There are men on guard at the front."

She wants to point out that there are men on guard everywhere here, but he guides her through an abandoned pathway to an opening where two horses have already been arranged for them.

He brings one forth for her and Noura quietly mounts it. He mounts the other one and snaps the reins, and soon they're riding out of the palace towards the city.

If the morning was to arrive any earlier, today because of the heavy clouds in the sky it's late. She's grateful for the lingering darkness, for once appreciating how it's concealing daylight and buying her time. Though she prays Adam hasn't left cracks in the plan. She's in no position to be dealing with additional drama if she's found absent.

They arrive at a court and both of them dismount their horses. The city is quiet and dead asleep at the hour, if anyone awake might be busy praying at the mosques or their houses. She doesn't spot anyone on the roads, the streets deserted too, but just a few lanterns lit around.

Daud ties the horses at a shade and leads her inside the small building. She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Adam, his familiar self rather than the unfamiliar man she has been with causing her to relax a little. He strides to her and dismisses Daud with a wave of his hand who disappears to leave them alone.

"Change the cloak."

He takes her soaked cloak from her and wraps a dry one over her body.

"Do you think anyone might have seen us coming here?"

He shrugs one shoulder. "Not together, at least."

"What if someone is really spying on me?" she voices her concern.

"Then it'll be already too late before they inform anyone."

Adam is covered in a cloak of his own, his face covered by a cloth so no one will recognize him. Noura stares into those dark, fathomless eyes that take her to a realm of the demons, unnerving her, for a moment grazing her with something so strong it numbs her-- the distinction between the right and wrong stills to be suspended in time, and she cannot make a choice.

But it is already past the stage of thinking.

"What have you told these people?" she asks. "The marriage is arranged in an exigency and the hour is inconvenient."

"Our reason is not their problem, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Adam." She stops him as he turns to leave. "They won't question us?"

"They'll find their answer when the Khalifa summons them to his court," he replies carelessly. "I've paid them good to do their job; they'll do it for us."

"Still, what have you told them?" she inquires again, demanding to know, and he exhales heavily, giving up against her stubbornness.

"That we've eloped."

Noura death glares him and he steals away his gaze.

"Other lies would've been too unconvincing," he excuses, "and you didn't give me time."

She huffs but doesn't say anything more. He leads her to a room where two men, serving as witnesses, and an imam (officiant) is waiting for them. Adam motions for her to sit to the side where a wooden room divider is set up to separate the space from the men. She goes to sit on the cushions and he takes a seat beside the officiant on the floor.

"Noura Al Makhzum, daughter of Saud Al Makhzum?" the imam asks to confirm her identity.

"Yes," she affirms.

"In the name of Allah, the most beneficent and merciful, we'll begin this ceremony," he starts off without wasting any time or doing any inquiry, much to her relief.

It's only for a flicker of a second her breath hitches in angst, but the fast pace of time has already taken from her her moments of reconsideration. Now, she's standing at the brink of an abyss, ready to jump over and fearless to falling down, because even if she does fall down, it'll still save her from the depth of the alternative destiny she would've met otherwise. Noura doesn't think of stepping out now-- she cannot.

Her stare fixes on Adam through the partition, behind the cloak and the mask only his eyes with endless murk a sign of familiarity. Those aren't the eyes she ever dreamt of gazing into-- those aren't Eskander's glowing eyes of warmth and honey. Those black eyes speak of nightmares, and Noura cannot ever dream of them to be her lover's.

She swallows and lowers her gaze to her folded hands in her lap as each minute leaps over the other. Everything is moving in quick succession. The future she had once seen with Eskander comes to fall apart. She tries to hold her crumbling thoughts together, telling herself someday this will end too, but her heart cannot stop wailing-- to win one battle, she feels to have lost another.

The man sitting besides the officiant who is to become her husband, she had always imagined Eskander in his position.

But Eskander is not here.

And when the officiant asks her if she willingly accepts him as her husband, it's not Eskander Teymour's name. It's Adam Al Kurdiya.

She learns his name. And she kills her doubts and hesitation, telling him she willingly accepts him as her husband, in the presence of the witnesses. And when she's asked thrice and she affirms it each time, the imam then turns to Adam and asks him the same question, who too affirms it thrice, to willingly take her as his wife.

The officiant finishes the ceremony by making a prayer for them-- the newly wed couple-- and she follows through everything numbly and passively. Never in her life, any test has been greater than this, besides the death of her father, the memories of which has been blurred enough by years to bear the pain. But now this is the most reckless and unpredictable decision she has made, and once more she's lost against where things might lead her. In only a little time, her life has changed tremendously.

Adam finishes the paper work with the imam before standing up and thanking him, saying his goodbyes. Noura gets to her feet too, ready to leave the place and lock herself in the confines of her chamber until everything has sunken in and made its mark-- until she's accustomed to it and plots ways to deal with its consequences.

Somewhere, despite her courage to take this bold move, a fear was still nipping in her heart. She can only suppress it so long.

Adam appears besides her and Noura blinks out of her reverie.

"Come. We should get going."

He guides her outside to where Daud is waiting for them. He becomes attentive upon seeing them approaching.

"Daud, take her back to the palace and escort her back to her chambers safely."

Noura turns to look at him. "You won't be coming with us?"

"We can't be seen together," he reminds her. "You can trust Daud, don't worry."

She wants to scoff and tell him she doesn't even trust him, let alone a man of his, but she refrains from doing so, knowing it's already too late for it.

"The papers?" she asks him.

Adam gestures for Daud to leave them alone and he walks away to give them some space.

"I'll keep them," he tells her. "Once Ameer Zakariya finds about you being married, he'll ask for a proof. I'll present them to him then."

"Try to keep our marriage a secret," she urges, sounding concerned. "Eskander shouldn't find out."

His eyes turn dangerous as if it's anymore possible given the already deadly hue of them. "Noura," Adam drops his voice menacingly, "as long as you keep your word, I'll keep mine. Getting any closer to the general or telling anyone about Arwa and me will only result in their lifelines ending short. I swear by the one God who's the Creator of both you and me, you've seen very little of me, and what more there is is very dreadful to bear. You don't want to be in my bad graces."

She knows he's not giving her empty threats. She knows he's a man capable of very dire things, thus she has no desire of pushing his limits. But he too must know she's not a woman at anyone's mercy but God Himself.

"I behave only if you behave," she retorts, not allowing him the satisfaction of scaring her off. "You've nothing to worry about as long as you don't fall in my bad graces either."

Even behind the mask, Noura can tell he's smirking at her words.

"You amuse me sometimes, sayidati," Adam utters. "A lone woman at the palace with no one besides her, ain't you too brave for all of this?"

"I'm not alone." She lifts her chin, boring into his pupils. "I've my Lord with me."

Adam stares back at her but doesn't respond. This time, Noura smirks at him.

"I might have married you, but I can end this whenever I wish to. If it comes to revelations, we both know your secrets are way more destructive than mine, azizi (my dear)." She then smiles innocently at him. "So if I'm calling it a truce and forgetting ever making an enemy out of you, how about you refrain from testing how bad of a woman I can be?"

She hears him chuckling as he lowers the cloth from his face, licking his lips as he does so.

"I think now we both have a long way to go. Much to see and much to learn. But," he tilts his head closer to hers, "what if I really want to know how bad you can be, azizi?"

"I will ruin you," she whispers with the same smile and it only makes him grin widely.

"Gladly," he mumbles before pulling away. "Go now, the sun is up. You've got a whole life to wreck chaos in mine. But remember, keep Arwa out of our affairs."

Who knew the sands of time were to bring them together like this.

His heart with another woman.

Her heart with another man.

Yet them being the two to end up together like this. She clenches her jaw at the twist of fate.

Noura turns her back on him. But before she could walk away, he gently grazes her elbow with his fingers to stop her.

"Take care."

She looks at Adam, not knowing if it's an advice, request, or a warning. But he doesn't let her interpret its meaning in his orbs as he covers back his face and disappears down the opposite pathway. And she's left only staring after him.

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Missed me? Exams had me.

So, how did you like the chapter?

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