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Far away in the land of arabia, in a kingdom by the desert, is a Princess, who goes by Qadira. She was born with talent and skill, the hands of a physician and the mind of a skilled herbalist. Simply put, she is a healer. Then there is Prince...
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THE ROAD TO THE KINGDOM OF SABA' WAS NOT USUALLY A LONG ONE. Yet for Qadira it stretched beyond the masses of sand dunes, surpassed the moon, the stars and everything in her visible distance.
There were guards stationed in a strategic circle around her and she almost began to question whether they were guarding her or there to make sure she was rid of any thoughts of fleeing. Her maids were far behind, as they left in groups after Qadira's protests that it would be safer they weren't acquainted with her, just in case. Her trunks of dresses, jewellery, books, scrolls were all split, although she doubted that a bandit would ruthlessly dare attack the princes, much less royalty. The other gifts to be presented to the other kingdom were taken ahead of them.
Considering Mustafa had visited the other kingdom on vacation, literally, and it only took him a day to go and return Qadira was sure her father decided to take the longer route which was more out in the open, so they were safer. They stopped a couple of times to eat and pray, though her appetite was no where in sight.
She certainly was not happy to be riding in her carriage with Bilal, the second prince after the crown prince. He would try to make small talk with her, and she played along, until the two fell silent knowing they were really riding closer to meet her demise.
Her father would bring his horse next to her carriage window now and then, each time looking torn as if he still had a decision to make, but the two knew a single solution lied ahead, and they were already riding towards its kingdom.
"Why the sullen face?" Bilal asked, looking across at her from where he sat.
Qadira scoffed. "I believe it's just since I have many matters to be sullen about."
"Perhaps. But I feel as though I am one of them."
"You are."
Bilal made a pained noise. "Would you rather ride with someone else then?"
"Mustafa," she replied immediately. Though her brother was trying to lighten the mood, she was not willing to help him.
"Mustafa cannot protect you."
"You could not protect me," she hissed back at him.
"Qadira, you were bound to be married regardless of what I did to stop anything. And you know I have no power in stopping anything, you are bringing two kingdoms together—isn't this what you've always wanted to do? Play the hero for once?"
She tasted something bitter in the way in which her own dream was thrown back at her.
"I am content, knowing that this is Allah's plan." She blinked away the tears that burned her eyes. "But there will still be a human side to me, restless and driven to insanity by the inequity of all this. Say you were being sold off as a soldier to another King. You are bound to him even as a prince, you are powerless in his jurisdiction, and under his authority you are compelled to do as he says."
