Khalifa

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"Don't tell me then. But how did you get the caliph's seal?"

"I'm not answerable to you," she finally speaks up. His lips twitch.

"Who are you answerable to then?"

"The caliph. It's his seal, not yours."

To this, he laughs an amused laughed and Noura frowns at him. "In all my years serving the Khalifa, I haven't once seen him. What makes you think you will?"

Who is the Khalifa? Her curiosity resurfaces again. Al Shafay. Why hasn't anyone seen the ruler of such mighty kingdom? How is it even possible? Noura swallows back her questions and bores her eyes into Muawwiz's hard ones.

"The fact that no one before me has had his seal." She smirks. "Does the caliph feel threatened by a girl to take her away from her home like this?"

Muawwiz doesn't reply to her mockery. He stares at her and Noura tentatively moves a little more away from him.

"So you admit that you stole the seal?"

She clenches her jaw. Whatever explanation she gives him, even if true, she knows he won't believe her.

"How did the caliph know I've the seal?" Noura dares. "How among these countless houses, it didn't take long before you dropped at mine?"

"Why do you think he's the caliph, girl?" Muawwiz challenges back. "He knows what goes on in this kingdom."

"I wonder how his seal was stolen then? Or if I'm purposefully framed."

"I wonder if you're actually so naive, or you pretend to be?" He latches at her arm, taking her by surprise, and yanks her to himself. Noura flattens her palms against his chest and pushes back but to no avail. "Eskander did it, didn't he?" Muawwiz grits. "I knew he's a traitor."

The blood runs cold in her body at the allegation. She looks up at him wide-eyed. He thinks Eskander stole the seal. Her minds jumps to connect the dots. Eskander works at the palace; he's on a high rank and has access to many things. This incidence has turned into a plot against him, especially with her connection to him. It will certainly make things difficult for him. An eerie feeling takes over her. Maybe, just maybe, this incident of the seal was actually to frame him and she was only used as a pawn for it. Her sanity goes haywire at the possibility.

"We'll see what the Ameer has to say about it now." Muawwiz smirks wickedly. "The vizier is very fond of him. He must realize now that promoting him to the rank of the general was a mistake."

She cannot hear Muawwiz bad mouth Eskander anymore. Noura exhales in a hiss. "Eskander's family has served the royal blood for a time more than the hair on your head," she snaps. "I think your jealousy of him is only making you bitter towards us."

Muawwiz abruptly takes her jaw in a strong grip and lifts up her face closer to his. "Insolent girl," he rebukes. "Wait till we get to the palace. You'll make a fair slave for me if the caliph spares your life. And Eskander will have his head on a spike in the middle of Baghdad."

"Not if I dig out your heart with my dagger first," she roars, losing any remaining patience with the threat placed upon Eskander.

Before Muawwiz could retort, an arrow flies between their faces, barely missing their noses. Muawwiz jerks away from her. Noura stumbles back and loses her footing, falling on her bottom on the sand. She looks in the direction of both her assaulter and savior and so does Muawwiz. A scowl forms on the commander's face upon seeing the interrupter.

"Slave," Muawwiz spits. "How dare you?!"

A man sits on a white horse with a bow in his hand and his shot arrow stuck beside her in the sand. In the faded daylight, Noura cannot make much of his face. But like the rest of the soldiers, he's well-built, wearing a cloak the hood of which is pulled down, and his shoulder length hair blowing in the desert wind.