Khayzuran was waiting for him in the palatial chambers, still kneeling on her prayer mat as she gazed out the window. The sky was a deep indigo stained with the last remnants of orange sunlight, the gentle twinkle of stars a near dream. She had removed her veil and loosened her headscarf after they called with news that Tahir had returned successfully, and Rehan had departed. They had prayed together side by side in silence, kneeling, prostrating, rising with the same movements. He kissed her forehead after he folded his mat and changed into his kaftan. Khaya helped him tie his keffiyeh, tucking in the little curls which managed to peek out, and he was gone.
She heard the clean sweep of the axe as it cut through the air with ferocity, the tearing of warm flesh and the end of a life. She opened her eyes and drew her awareness away, and she sagged in relief, the mountain resting on her shoulders suddenly crumbling away.
After a time his quickened footsteps sounded on the spiral staircase and she rose as the door opened. Rehan ran to her, his earlier poised and arrogant expression of power now mirroring the pure relief on hers. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed their bodies together, burying his face against the sliver of soft skin exposed near her collar.
"It's over," he breathed against her. He drew back and tucked a strand of hair back beneath her loosened headscarf, ran his thumb over her parted lips, his gaze soft and dark.
"There is something I wish to tell you," he said, releasing her. Confusion clouded her eyes as he continued. "After I discovered you were here, I was angry, yes, but also afraid. I was terrified that something would happen to you. I thought..." He sighed. "I thought about freeing you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean releasing you from me, so you could go back home."
"To Baghdad?"
He shook his head. "Home, to Jorash, where you could be safe."
Her voice shrunk, hardly a whisper. "So, you wish for me to go." She could feel her throat beginning to close.
"No. Even though it is better and safer for you, I don't want you to go. I can't bear the thought of not being with you, of being apart from you for a single second longer."
Her brow furrowed. "Why are you telling me this, then?"
A muscle in Rehan's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "I am selfish, Khayzuran, but I can't force you to stay here with me in a place where your life could be in danger, even though I love you, even though I could command you of it. Ultimately it is your decision." His eyes fluttered closed and he let out a long breath. "After the Gold Suq is over, do you wish to go home?"
Khaya thought of her mother, her siblings. Of Jorash and Baghdad.
"The last thing you did for me before leaving for Rey was send a letter back to my family. In it, I had put five gold dinars and a map." She smiled just as he opened his eyes. "I do wish to go home, to you, to my family who I've called to Baghdad. That's where I belong."
"Are you sure?"
She closed the space between them, taking his hands. "Yes."
Her eyes glittered as she looked into his. One moment they were still, the next she was reaching for the lapels of his kaftan and pulling him down into a soft, aching kiss. Her heart swelled with every conceivable emotion, pain, longing, hurt, desire, love, as his hands cradled her neck. The gentleness of that touch coiled around her spine and settled deep inside her belly as she reached up to untie his keffiyeh. In between soft sighs and stolen breath Rehan's hands slowly slid down Khaya's body and snaked around her waist, guiding them both to the bed. Their lips never left each others as he gently lifted her by her hips and reclined her back, her hair splaying on the dark sheets. She watched as his kaftan slid off his shoulders, and his body cut a silhouette against the silver moonlight streaming in through the window, utterly, utterly beautiful.
Each movement was slow and deliberate, the way he drew himself over her, each kiss he planted on her neck, her lips, soft, measured and relished, like she was made of glass and would shatter any moment. All the yearning buried in her bones slowly released. Her fingers gingerly traced the line of his scar, then trailed lower down his abdomen, each muscle there tensing in response to her touch. His breath hitched against her mouth and he suddenly grabbed her wrist.
"Are you sure?" he panted, each breath shallow. Every muscle in his body had seized. She nodded against his neck, inhaling the flaming scent of him.
After the Ember Night, when she thought he was lost, she found herself dwelling on the thought of What if? What if she had said yes to him before, what if she never got the chance to know him this way? To love him completely? She knew, even in Baghdad when they were together and safe, that she wanted it, but she kept denying herself because she was afraid, and now she did not even know what she was afraid of. But there was one thing she knew now, for certain.
"I belong to you."
He let out a long, slow breath against her skin, and pushed himself off her; he crossed the room with languid steps and carefully latched the door.
The devotion in his eyes slowly turned to hunger.
X
Midnight came with cold and silence. Rehan and Khayzuran lay cuddled against each other beneath the sheets in a bubble of warmth, absently tracing lines on the other's skin as the night grew longer. Their sweat had dried on the each other's skin, binding their scents together. Khaya's mind flickered between images, sensations of pain and pleasure she did not know a body was capable of feeling, every conceivable, shameful sound he had pulled from her lips moments ago. He had made love to her slowly, attentively, and her world was reduced to quivering sighs and uncontrollable convulsions of pure ecstasy. Every sound that slipped from her was music to his ears, and when he dug his nails into her skin as he climaxed, he whispered into her mouth that he loved her.
After a time, he asked her again. She said yes. And then a third. Each time felt better, more free and profoundly wonderful than the last, until she no longer felt any pain at all. She wondered if every time would feel like this, filled with such ache and longing and divine passion.
Rehan combed his fingers through Khaya's hair and searched her eyes. She was almost asleep.
"Do you remember my birthday?" he suddenly asked.
"Of course, that's the first time we kissed," she giggled softly, awake again.
Something flickered in his eyes. "You asked me if I ever felt love for anyone before and I said no."
"Yes, I remember that," she said, suddenly aware of the frigidity of the air.
"That was a lie."
"Was it about Rayta?" She did not sound disappointed or sad, merely curious.
"Yes... I did love her, when we were first married. I loved her, and she loved me for a time, but as we grew into ourselves she changed. Once she decided that power and influence were more important to her than our marriage, and when she saw for herself the evil I was capable of, no matter how much I begged, she did not come back to me. There were months I could not even eat a full meal for how I felt. It was as if I were dead."
Khaya touched his cheek. "You are afraid of that happening again."
"I am." The very admittance filled him with shame. For a Prince so mighty on a battlefield and revered at court, he had never felt so afraid of speaking two words in the safety and privacy of his own chambers.
"I don't know how I can convince you, but all I know is you could send me to the ends of the earth and I would return to you, always. Even dead, I would find you in Heaven." She gazed at the sadness in his eyes. "I didn't know it was possible to feel this way for someone. To look in their eyes and see the sun and stars, to see the whole world. I think I knew it then, the first time I kissed you, that I would love you."
Rehan laughed against her hand. "When you kept kissing me and nothing was happening, you knew?"
"I knew that if I wrote the verses before it, I would."
"How eloquently you speak to me."
"I learned from the best."
"Yahya?"
"Who else?"
They laughed, tearing away the tranquil silence with a sliver of brief, innocent joy. A while later Khayzuran turned over, and Rehan drew her against his chest in a protective embrace, and they melted into peaceful, dreamless sleep. The first night of many, he silently hoped.