If anyone else were to kiss me, all they would taste is your name.
— Clementine von Radics
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Him
"Push me up the tree."
She has a long stick in her hand which she points up at the apple tree. He uncertainly looks between her and the tree. She has a wide grin plastered on her face.
"I'll get you an apple too," she coaxes him. When he doesn't budge, she changes her offer, "I'll get you two. You can have the big ones."
"But how?"
"I'll beat them down with this stick." She waves it at him. "Come here, Joojoo."
He goes over to her. She readies herself to be lifted up and he has no idea how to do so. After a few failed attempts of pushing her into the bark rather than up the tree, she huffs and turns back at him.
"I'm big. You're tiny. I'll lift you up," she suggests instead and hands him the stick, coming to stand behind him.
A few more failed attempts go by, of her digging her small palms into his hips but barely managing to move him, until she eventually gives up and looks around for help.
"I have apples in my chambers. Come with me. Umi (mother) will give us," he asks her sweetly.
"Baba!" she squeals and runs away, and he looks in the direction after her.
A man kneels down and opens his arms for her. And he recognizes him from having seen him with his uncle, Khalid, before. His grand advisor, Saud Al Makhzum.
Her
He draws a finger up her forearm, eyes staring but impenetrable, fixing her, silent like a night, yet raging like a desert storm. They're fervent, momentarily disarming her, yet there's no fury in the specks of fire aflame there.
His finger continues to trace the span of her arm, up to her shoulder, unbothered by her dagger at his throat. He holds her shoulder firmly, pulling her down to himself, the naive fondness of his earlier smile replaced by a wicked smirk. Sitting there on the ottoman with her leaning over him, Noura has to put her free hand down on his thigh to keep her balance.
"What explanation do you need from your beloved husband, zawjati alhabiba (my beloved wife)?"
She flattens the blade against his throat, the sharp edge of it facing upwards.
"How about you start with who was the woman?"
"I don't know. I didn't get to ask her," his response is smooth, unfiltered, and his hand abandons her shoulder to flatten against her back. "Are you shivering at my touch, or are you cold?"
Her eyes widen and her cheeks heat up before she glares at him. "It's raining. It was raining all the way from my home to the palace."
"So it's not my touch then?"
His hand travels lower and she flips her dagger again, the edge pressed to his throat again.
"We're not doing this, Adam."
"I had a bad day. I don't want to do anything but this." He tugs her down until his lips press to her neck, flicking his tongue over the skin before kissing it. "You were all I looked forward to. I waited. Let my patience be worth it."
She remains still, her hold on the dagger loosening but not letting it drop, allowing him as his nose drags along her jaw.
"Why did you have a bad day?" she asks, her anger lulled against her worry for him, and he pulls back.
"Let me light the fireplace. You really are cold." His gaze switch down to her dagger. "You might want to remove it, unless you want me to carry you in my arms so you can keep it at my throat."
"Tempting," she says, though let the dagger drop at his feet. "The woman might have welcomed herself before you could warm the chamber."
"I was out with Taha and returned only now. She walked in moments before you."
"And you wouldn't send her out?"
"Why would I when I knew you'd be here any second and perform the task better than me?"
"How considerate," she mocks and straightens away.
He chuckles in amusement and stands up. "Truthfully, I was curious," he admits, strolling towards the fireplace.
"What about?" Her tone sharpens and her eyes narrow. "Curious as to what show she was about to put on for you?"
"She might had daggers up her sleeves for all I know."
"Is that why you were sitting so leisurely before her?"
"Is that how you see it?"
The way he asks her the question makes Noura deter to reply. His voice has suddenly dropped and darkened. He crouches before the fireplace to light it. She remains standing on her spot, staring at him. He doesn't glance back at her.
"My father, Marwan Al Kurdiya, was a very callous man. Anyone you ask probably will not have any good graces to remember him in," he says, still busy with the logs, and the unexpected change in conversation confounds her. "When a man would be found guilty in his court, he'd allow him a chance to save his life. He'd take the culprit to an open area and let him run away. And while he'd run, away a good distance, my father would take his mark with a spear and throw it at him. The deal was that if he missed, the culprit's life would be spared. If not, he dies." The logs catch fire and his face glows against it. He gazes into it, forearms resting on his knees. "The truth was, he never missed his target. I cannot recall a single man from my memory who ever made it out alive. So it was always an end deal-- a death sentence for the culprit and a sport for my father."
Noura remains silent, watching him as his eyes absently stare into the fire, lost in the recollection of his past.
"When he was the governor of Qahira, one day there was a celebration at the palace. The women were all dressed up, the harem of my father bustling with colors and glitters. My mother, however, chose to wear a very simple dress that could easily had her paling in comparison to others. She didn't even wear her tiara. But one thing she always took pride in was her husband's love for her, despite him being known as a cold-hearted tyrant to the world."
The doors to the balcony are closed but she can still hear the rain rattling. It's falling stronger now. Somewhere there's a roar of thunder but it does nothing to break their trance.
"My father, you see, could have men trembling and lowering their eyes before him. But he was the one to lower his eyes before a woman," he continues, almost like a narration from a book. "That night while I was in his harem where my mother sat on her seat, and he walked in, all the women lined up for him. But he could only gaze at my mother."
An almost imperceptible smile forms on his lips, as if he's reliving the moment. To her, he appears almost lost.
"He said: isn't your mother is beautiful, Adam? Certainly my mother felt the most beautiful then. And though he might have been a very bad man, but he loved her, and he was modest in his love towards her."
His hair is tied. But the strand that have fallen loose grazes his cheekbones. He blinks and combs them back with his fingers.
"I was a child. I never understood much of his wisdom. But one thing I learnt from him was that if these eyes were to seek pleasure in every woman they fall upon, I would've been a very weak man against my desire. For that these eyes are the first to commit a sin, thus first that need to be guarded. But I'm not pitiful at the hands of them. I'm not a weak man."
He finally looks back at her. She's still rooted to the same spot he had left her on. Adam motions her over.
"Come here, habibti, warm yourself."
Dazed, Noura walks over to him and sits down on the cushions. He comes to join her.
"I don't doubt you, Adam," she tells him, taking his hand in hers. "But the thought of anyone coming between us sears me."
He pulls her to himself and puts his arm around her. She rests her head against his shoulder.
"There will come someone between us only if you or I let them to. No one can force their way otherwise."
"Then never let anyone to."
"Didn't I tell you already?"
"What?"
He nudges her so she looks up at him. His orbs turn dark one moment, then the next they catch fire. He wraps his fingers around her leg and pulls her legs over his own.
"Hadhih aleuyun min 'ajlik faqat (these eyes are only for you)." He lowers his head towards hers, holding her wrist and pressing her palm to his cheat. "Hadha alqalb faqat min 'ajlik (only for you is this heart)."
"Adam..."
She tilts up her chin so their lips brush. He steals a brief kiss before he whispers between them.
"Adam laki faqat (Adam is only for you)."
Noura shivers, this time surely at his touch as he drags a hand up her leg, taking her dress with it. Her eyelids flutter shut.
"Wafaqat Noura li Adam (and only for Adam is Noura)."
Noura takes his face in her hands and kisses him. He gives in to her easily before taking control. With a groan, he pushes her down on the cushions and lies atop her, supporting his weight on his elbows. She buries her fingers in his hair, undoing it, and he drags the kiss long before breaking apart for breath.
"Why did you have a bad day?" she asks breathlessly what he had told her earlier.
"I forgot why." He grins, both sly and childish, nestling his face in the crook of her neck. "You're here. You're with me. Everything is good."
She laughs softly and gently scratches her nails across his scalp, making him nearly drop his weight on her as a sound of pleasure escapes him. This time, she laughs in amusement.
"You're purring like a cat, habibi," she teases.
"I'm not," he grumbles in reply.
"I certainly didn't hear you roaring like a tiger."
"Careful lest you want to be purring at my hands, farasha."
She blushes and faces away.
"Shameless man," she scolds, though a smile remains on his lips, knowing that her words for him are anything but true. "Butterflies don't purr."
He rolls on his back with her atop him now. Noura lifts her head and he strokes a strand of her hair which has fallen loose. Then hooking a finger in her braid, he slowly pulls down until all the twists are undone and her hair falls forward in waves.
"Butterflies flutter their wings," he mumbles, gazing affectionately at her. "Where would you fly away if I cage you in my arms?"
"If I've your arms for a cage, maybe I wouldn't ever want to fly away."
He smiles and cups her cheek, bringing her down to kiss her forehead. She rests her head on his shoulder and he circles his arms around her.
"Why did you have a bad day, Adam?" she asks him for the third time.
He exhales heavily before answering, "There was a meeting with the officials today. I wanted Sulaiman to appoint my men at Qahira, but he declined all my suggestions, skillfully so, with the help of Daryush, and appointed men of his choice on the posts, making sure he's favored when the time comes."
"But why would Daryush help him against you? Isn't he member of the council? How would he benefit from it when nothing changes for him?"
"That's what I've been thinking. There must be a reason why Daryush favors Sulaiman against me. I'm just unable to find that reason."
Noura contemplates over it. The few times she had an opportunity of speaking to him, he had been subtle not to clearly show his disapproval towards her husband, though he hinted at it.
"What do you plan to do now?" she inquires.
"I'll set more traps for them," he suggests breezily, with a sinful mirth in voice. "Not only for Sulaiman, but Daryush as well. Especially for Daryush. Once I find his reason and weakness, he'll be a mere puppet in my hands."
Noura looks up at him. "What would you do to him?"
"Whatever he deserves." Adam clicks his tongue, as if in sympathy towards him. "He was supposed to be a fair judge of me and be honest in his opinion towards my rule. He's clearly failing his duties as a member of the council by being biased towards Sulaiman since day one."
"Well, maybe I can help."
He scowls right away in displeasure. "No."
She props herself up. "Why not?"
"I don't want that snake anywhere near you."
"Daud will be with me. Doesn't he already inform you of my encounters with him?"
"That doesn't mean I entertain the prospect of it."
"Adam--"
"No."
"But--"
"We're done discussing Daryush." He sits up, and so does she. "I don't want to use you in any scheme for my benefit. Neither do I want you to be used against me."
"I only want to help, Adam."
"You can surely help, but not with someone like Daryush."
"He's not hostile towards me as he's towards you," she argues.
"All the more reason to stay away from him if he's showing you his good side rather than the ugly side he shows me. He's a hypocrite."
She has no heart to quarrel with him, so she drops the discussion upon noticing his posture tensing. Noura places a hand on his back and scoots closer, pecking his cheek.
"Fine, don't be upset. I've other things to deal with anyways. So excuse me if I take my wrath out elsewhere."
"Like where?"
"Like upon whoever sent you that concubine."
Adam looks skyward. "Can we just focus on you and I in our time alone?"
"We can."
She stands up, tugging open the strings of her dress and shrugging it off. It pools at her feel, leaving her in her silk under-dress slip. Adam immediately reaches out for her and she laughs, stepping out of his reach. His eyes blaze up in longing and frustration, zooming in on her.
"Noura." He gets to his feet too, following after her as she keeps backing away, already bewitched. "Come to me, hayati."
"Come to me, Adam," she lures back, dancing away as he tries to grasp her wrist.
He hurries after her and she twirls away on her toes, her anklets filling the chamber with their tinkling. Noura smiles at his bedazzled expression.
"Why, sayidi, do I bother you?"
"Very much so." His reply comes hoarse and strained. "Anti taqtulini (you're killing me)."
The fire casts shadows over them as she continues to swirl away and he chases after her, with him missing her by a mere inch every time, until his hand finds hers and he tugs her into his arms, locking her against his chest.
"Got you, malikati (my queen)."
"Adam." She lifts on her toes and bumps her nose against his, grinning, biting down her lip to contain it but failing. "Maybe I got you, maliki (my king)."
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A poem on the last scene of this chapter has been posted on my Instagram from Adam's POV. You can check it out if you like (link in my bio).
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