Hearts of Faith

8

"It livens life up a little more, don't you think?"

But Zinneera did as she was told and speedily changed into her clean dress, fixed her hijab, put on her boots but left her belt. It was unlikely that she would be let into a room with the most powerful people in the city with a weapon. Luckily, her boots had a cosy little compartment for a thin dagger which Zinneera carefully slipped inside.

The girls made their way to breakfast, someone's stomach rumbling particularly loudly on the way, but when they reached the wide double doors, open with guards outside, Zinneera began to feel rather queasy. She did not like Hamid, neither did she feel she was a particular favourite of any of the Ameer's family and so disaster seemed like the only possible outcome of the morning.

They entered after a guard announced them and to Zinneera's slight relief, someone at the table was smiling at them. The yellow birch table in front of them was the length of the whole room, which was in fact, rather long. And so, most of it remained unoccupied. On the right end, sat the Ameer, looking very comfortable on an array of bright, velvet red cushions. To his right sat his wife, the one who had a friendly smile on her face, her clothes matching the colour of the cushions except for her white hijab and robe. 

Next to her was Maryam in a beige dress, who was chatting animatedly to Hamid, sat on the Ameer's left much to Zinneera's surprise. Though Hamid looked less than interested as he picked at his nails, not looking at the guests who had just entered. Then beside him, not looking happy, nor sad, nor uncomfortable, or angry or any sort of distinguishable emotion, was Khalil ibn-al-Ameer, reading a letter. Ismael, who sat next to Maryam looking rather despondent, beamed as his sister entered, and stood up to run along the table, which took him a good few seconds, to Maha, throwing himself at her waist for a hug. Zinneera grinned at the way her friend's eyes lit up.

"Come inside girls, come, come." The Ameerah beckoned, her smile stretching to her pronounced cheekbones. "You have arrived just in time as our breakfast should almost be here."

In a hurry, the girls shuffled around the table to the side of the Ameerah and were about to sit before the Ameer stopped them.

"Ismael." He smiled, not unkindly. "Would you mind sitting next to Khalil? That way the girls are not so far away and we are all closer together."

Ismael hesitated and Maha was also uncomfortable with the prospect. A hand on his shoulder, she was about to reject on his behalf but then Ismael nodded.

"Thank you my boy." The Ameer reached a hand out and Ismael walked towards him. He placed his small hand in his large one and the Ameer patted it gently. Zinneera thought it was good that he could take the shorter path around the table this time. And so they settled themselves down on the green and red cushions around them with Maha next to Maryam so she could be opposite Ismael, then Zinneera and then Safiyya.

They watched as Ismael sat down doubtfully next to Ibn-al-Ameer, a short distance away so that he was not noticeably far but not too close either. Zinneera frowned and was about to suggest Maha sit next to him when Khalil put down his letter and leaned down to whisper something in the boy's ear. Ismael grinned and nodded his head excitedly. Then Khalil began to show or explain something to him in the letter.

Seeing Ismael was happier now, all the girls relaxed, just as servants entered the room, plates of food in their hands. As they huddled around the group, laying breakfast on the table, Zinneera found her eyes straying to Khalil, whose face, she realised, she was seeing for the first time. He looked just like any other man, really. With a well kept, well-trimmed beard about the size of her fist, curly and black, similar to his hair which was thick and slightly wavy, falling to his shoulders and kept back in a ponytail. His facial features were very strong. A large, wide and pointy nose, thick eyebrows and his jaw was slightly wide. He didn't inherit his mother's cheekbones, that was for sure. But as he spoke to Ismael about whatever it is that seemed to excite the pair of them, his posture was less stiff, his facial muscles more relaxed and it made him seem less like a statue frozen in time and more like a human.