Abbas shifted in his seat for the twelfth time. He kept his head down out of courtesy but also to hide his face, allowing for the material of his Keffiyah to drape over it.
Harun had been successful in telling their mother, who couldn't have been more delighted to find out that her borderline-narcissistic son had a preference, who was none other than a daughter of a high official. No matter how much he pleaded against it, his mother had gone ahead and sprinkled her magic to arrange a meeting, and today had been the fruit of his mother's effort.
Khidaaf Beirooni, the only daughter to the male dominant Beirooni lineage, sat in his presence, her over-bearing perfume filling the entire Palace with her jasmine flower scent. Her father Jamal Beirooni was a high ranking governor whose heritage had descended from one of the founders of Balqaas, holding a great deal of power in the countries society. The way he valued his only daughter was clearly evident in the luxury garments and jewels she wore, her fingers and wrists flashing from the glimmer of gold and diamonds.
The moment he saw her from afar entering the Palace with her parents, the prince admitted she had plenty of beauty. Her cocoa-coloured curls had not been covered, displaying her gleaming emerald earrings that matched her eyes. Thaina had even whispered a remark to Harun, of which Abbas overheard and couldn't help chuckle, about how she was able to stay standing with all the jewellery weighing her down.
Abbas lowered his gaze, scolding himself for admiring her beauty for longer than he expected. He just hoped her character would mirror her physical charms. However, it didn't take long for her to prove herself.
Once her parents had introduced themselves, offering their gifts to his family, they had given some time for the two to get to know each other, under the supervision of his sister-in-law, who was now sitting by the corner of the tea room, scribbling away on a piece of parchment paper with her feather quill.
From the moment they sat down, neither of them spoke. Whilst he sat with his gaze focused on the steaming cup of tea in front, he could feel Khidaaf blatantly gawking at his gash, her not-so-subtle eyes burning into him. Under her disappointed gaze, Abbas felt like a specimen being examined under a magnifying glass, and he felt terribly embarrassed that she had no shame to lower her gaze in front of him. All he wished for was to return to his room, away from her and her parent's judging stares.
He cleared his throat, and from the corner of his eyes, he saw Khidaaf jump.
"It is wonderful to see you again, you've changed very much," he said nervously.
"Um-yes, it has been a while. I can say you have changed too," she commented, giving him a shaky laugh. "I was delighted to hear that you personally invited me to the Palace,"
Before Abbas could correct her, she continued.
"I'm surprised that you chose me of all the women in Balqaas and am flattered,"
His smile faltered, preferring her when she was silent. He couldn't help but think if this was how narcissistic he came out to be before his injury. Abbas glanced to his side, where Thaina sat, and he noticed her shaking her head in disapproval.
"Tell me about yourself," He asked again, giving another shot.
"Well, I enjoy going outside."
"Oh, so you like to travel?" His eyes glimmering, finally finding a topic they could bond over.
"No...I meant, to shop."
Abbas paused and took a sip of his tea before he muttered an answer.
"Right,"
He knew Thaina would be rolling her eyes over their deflating conversation.
"I do love sweets and cakes,"
"Ah, you know how to bake, then? That's impressive," Abbas nodded.
"No...I enjoy eating them,"
Heat rose to his face, and he prayed his embarrassment wouldn't be obviously visible.
"Of course! I do too..." The Prince laughed, trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere.
However, Khidaaf remained silent. To his satisfaction, Thaina stood up and made her way over to them.
"I'm afraid time is of the essence and so I'm afraid we will have to end it here," she stated, and they both let out a sigh.
Khidaaf jumped up from her cushion.
"I shouldn't keep my parents waiting any longer," She stuttered before she scuttled for the exit. Just as she opened the doors, she turned to them again and gave a small bow.
"It was nice to see you, Your Highness, but I don't think we can progress this any further. Thank you again for giving me this chance," She said, before giving him a curt nod and practically running out of the room.
Abbas scoffed, his sister-in-law doing the same.
"That woman!" Thaina huffed, and Abbas stood up.
"Leave her be, I knew from the moment she started gawking at me, it wasn't going to happen. Besides, who would find interest in such a boring person,"
They both exited the tea room and found her parents speaking with hushed voices to the Queen. They offered their apologies before a manservant led them down the winding halls of the Palace for the exit.
"I am guessing things didn't go well,"
Abbas and Thaina turned to see Harun walking over to them.
"Do you know how awkward it was for me to have to listen to them?" Thaina interjected, and the Crown prince broke out chuckling.
Their mother strolled by and hit her laughing son on his back, before turning to her other frowning son and wrapped a comforting arm around his.
"Don't be disheartened my son, Allah has planned for you someone better than her and Inshallah you will meet her someday,"
Abbas could not find comfort in his mother's hope-filled words, yet he prayed she would be right.
"Inshallah,"
***
Thaina Bint Qassim stroked the hem of the dress, her fingers gliding over the meticulous detail of thread, its embroidered bodies clasping the most luxurious gems and pearls. It was simply beautiful, and she applauded the skills of the maker who had sewn her imagination into reality. The royal dressmaker could learn a few skills or two from her personal favourite, and it was because of this she had left the Palace walls.
Shielding her identity with a veil, the Princess had quietly left with the permission of her husband, bringing along her personal handmaiden, Reem, and a guard to escort her to collect her purchase. Normally, she would have sent for her handmaiden to collect things, but when it came to her garments, she insisted on making the journey out herself which also gave her a chance to free herself from her royal duties. Not that she had much to do anyway, being the beloved wife of the Crown Prince of Balqaas.
Her dress had taken her to a large fabric boutique in the heart of the bustling city Souq, where once had a stood a rundown stall, but with Thaina's help, it had transformed into a popular establishment, favoured by the women of the upper class. The head tailor was a widowed senior who used to sew material day and night to earn a living, but now had plenty of young assistants to help her with the bulkier tasks.
Because it was a women's only area, she had excused her bodyguard to purchase a few other things in the meantime.
"Is it to your liking?" asked the head tailor, her petite figure hunched behind her worktable.
"Of all the Jilbas you have made for me, this one has to be by far my favourite," Thaina smiled. "I can always rely on you Khaltu,"
Despite the veil, the wrinkling dressmaker could see the content gleam in the Princess' eyes.
"It is an honour to make your dresses and receive such kind compliments, Sahiba. They can never be enough to compensate for your kindness,"
The wrinkling woman began lowering her head in respect, but the Princess grabbed her hand to stop her.
"Please Khaltu, I am just another one of your regular customers," Thaina replied, gently wrapping her arms around her.
"Would you like to try it on, Sahiba?" whispered Reem beside her, and Thaina nodded and one of the assistants escorted her to the back of the boutique where thick curtains created a space for privacy. As her handmaiden helped her undo her disguise, loud voices entered the shop, catching her attention.
"It's hard to believe, but I swear by Allah, you would never understand my shock unless you saw him for yourself!"
The Princess slipped on her new dress, raking through her memory to find the owner of the voice.
"Habeebati, I understand your disappointment! To think he even had the decency to face such a beautiful lady such as you!" huffed a second voice.
"Exactly! You deserve someone so much more handsome!"
"It's a shame to be quite fair. If he had asked for my hand earlier, before you-know the injury, I would have accepted without complaints. I mean, he was the most wanted bachelor in the whole of Balqaas,"
Thaina froze in her movements, Reem noticing her demeanour change.
"May I-"
"No Reem, leave them be. Our cover will be blown otherwise,"
"But Sayidati-"Her handmaiden pleaded, but Thaina shook her head, placing a finger to her lips.
"At least we have identified the snakes," she replied in a low tone, adjusting her dress in the mirror. "Will you do up the back?"
As much as she wished to interrupt their bashful rambling, Thaina couldn't risk her identity being blown. Her husband may have let her out on her own but if others knew he had, they wouldn't be so pleased with giving her this much freedom. Once she had redone her veil, her handmaiden drew back the curtain and they stepped out.
"It fits you perfectly, Sayidati," The head tailor cheered, aware that others were now in their vicinity.
At that moment, two women entered the boutique, both bearing hazel-coloured eyes and started browsing through the stacks of rolled cloth.
"What a fine garment,"
Khidaaf stepped forward eyeing the figure of the veiled princess. Thaina kept her head down, afraid that even her exposed eyes would give her away, but she caught a glimpse of Khidaaf's face, confirming her suspicions.
"I'd like to have it, how much would you like for it?"
"I'm sorry but it is not for sale," Reem stated, stepping in between them. The Princess remained silent.
"I'm not speaking to you slave, now step aside,"
Her harsh words made Haifa freeze in her spot. Diya, having noticed her sister's actions, followed her gaze to the group of woman.
"My friend is correct, this dress is not for sale,"
"Sayidati-"
Thaina held a hand up to stop Reem.
"Oh my, forgive me, I didn't mean to insult your friend," Khidaaf spouted, her hand hiding a snicker.
Thaina overlooked her snobbish act and proceeded to change out of the dress, her handmaiden following her.
Khidaaf returned to her group of friends who began snickering between themselves.
Diya scoffed, but Haifa reprimanded her with a glare and shook her head. They continued searching for a navy roll of material.
Thaina returned from behind them clad in her disguise once again. Reem held her dress on her arm and bought it to the head tailor to wrap up. The princess unravelled her cotton pouch and took out a few silver and bronze coins.
"It wasn't even worth that much," Khidaaf scoffed who had been eyeing the Princess the entire time. "She was making it out to be as if it were worth gold coins,"
Her friends snickered.
"Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, the Prince," Khidaaf boasted, emphasising her words so the others including Haifa and Diya could hear. "If he had sent me the proposal a year ago I would have become a Princess, but my goodness, his horrific appearance made me feel nauseous,"
Thaina clenched her fists, wishing the head tailor would hurry before she lost her calm. The elderly woman, however, continued to fold her dress slowly and neatly at snail's pace.
"Oh my goodness, I would have cried if I were you!" her friends pruned.
Haifa felt the words sting her. It may have not been directed at her, but she understood very well how hurtful such comments could be, especially if they reached the recipient's ears.
"Can we leave before my fist makes its way to that girl's nose?" Diya muttered, but Haifa nudged her with her elbow.
"Can I have three metres of this material please?" Haifa shouted over the girl's voices, immediately turning their attention to her, but she ignored their glares. One of the assistants ran over to them and began measuring the lengths for them.
Thaina lifted her eyes for a moment and smiled behind her veil. For a second their eyes met, so she turned away, her back facing them again.
"I could have almost become Princess, can you believe?"
"We would have to call you Sahiba!"
Haifa sighed as the girls continued to speak in rowdy voices. Everyone in the boutique, including the assistants felts a sense of unease.
"Though, I could never force myself to wake up next to a terrifying face, even if it is the Prince. He may be rich and have power but I would be torturing myself to have to live with him-"
"Don't you think you have spoken enough? You're making everyone feel uncomfortable,"
Thaina had been ready to leave when the words stopped her in her tracks. She looked up from her veil, her eyes landing on the hazel-eyed woman.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Khidaaf sneered, walking up to Haifa, her friends following.
"Who I am does not concern you. You are making everyone feel uncomfortable with the way you are mocking the Prince,"
Khidaaf scoffed, whipping her long locks over her shoulders. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Haifa, her friends imitating her.
"I can speak however I please, and if you feel uncomfortable, feel free to leave. I was here first,"
"Would you speak however you please if the Prince were here too?"
"Well-"
"Would you continue to insult and slander him that way if he were standing right in front of you?"
"No-"
"Then don't do it behind his back either,"
The whole shop was still, an intimidating silence echoing between them all. Khidaaf was gawking, her mouth open to respond but no words came out of her mouth.
Haifa held her stern gaze.
Khidaaf huffed, her face visibly red, before stomping past Thaina and leaving the boutique and of course, her lackeys followed after her.
"Haifa, did you really just do that?" gawked Diya, gripping her sister by the arm.
Haifa walked over to the counter where the head tailor sat smiling and took out a silver coin.
"I can't believe you did that! Who knew my sister had it in her?!"
"Will you stop overreacting?" Haifa smiled, a little embarrassed of her sister's boasting.
"Haifa you were amazing! Did you see that girl's face? She couldn't even-"
"That's enough, Diya. We should head back,"
"Thank you," came a voice from behind them.
Haifa turned to the voice and found the veiled woman behind her, her smiling friend clasping the wrapped dress.
"You don't have to thank me, I was only doing what was right," Haifa smiled.
Thaina nodded her. The girl and her sister looked about to be a few years than her and although they wore simple attire, an aura of natural beauty surrounded them. And their eyes. The Princess couldn't help herself from speculating.
"Would you mind if I asked who you are? Do you happen to know those girls?"
"No, we don't. We're just two sisters who live on the south side of the city with our parents,"
Thaina hummed, her curiosity bringing a smile to her face.
"I hope we meet again," she muttered, before saying her goodbyes and leaving the sisters.
Haifa and Diya politely said their farewells and watched as they left, before turning to each other with a shrug.
"You should have told her, we are the daughters of the great general, Abdul Hameed!" Diya raved as they weaved their way out of the Souq, holding her chin in the air.
"Oh please," Haifa giggled, slapping her sister's arm playfully.
"That was close, Sahiba," Reem whispered behind her as they rode back to the Palace walls, but the Princess seemed to be in her own thoughts.
Khidaaf's encounter with Abbas would spread the entire city like wildfire, only making it harder for him.
She just hoped there would be someone out there, like those girls, who would accept her cousin.
***
Abbas had noticed something was wrong with his sister-in-law the moment she stormed into his brother's study, ripping off her veil from her face before her eyes noticed his presence and her demeanour instantly changed. His sister-in-law was good at masking her emotions. She greeted them both with Salam.
"I hope I'm not interrupting but, do you mind if I speak to Harun for a second?" she said politely, and Abbas took that as his queue to leave.
As he exited, he intended to leave the doors slightly ajar, waiting by the shadows.
"You will not believe the day I've had," he heard his cousin begin, touching his curiosity. "That Khidaaf girl is going around spouting nonsense to her friends and I happened to run into her in the boutique,"
"Please tell me you didn't expose yourself," his brother sighed.
"I didn't and that's beside the point, she was slandering Abbas and his appearance,"
At the mention of his name, Abbas stepped back in shock, regretting his actions to eavesdrop. No wonder it had been forbidden in Islam, for doing so had only bought him anguish.
"Khidaaf is young and temperamental. Don't let her words upset you."
"Of course it upsets me, but I know her words will spread like fire and that is what worries me the most,"
Abbas stumbled away, not wanting to hear more. An agonising pain grew in his chest, and he felt he could no longer breathe. Taking shelter in his room, he abruptly shut the door, letting his body slide onto the cold marble floor. The whole country knew about his appearance and was now criticizing him. He held his hands up to his face, trying to shield himself from the truth.
"They know," He mumbled, feeling his own words slice his heart. "Everyone will know of my face,"
Suddenly a storm grew in his mind, the flashes of lightning piercing his happy memories. He stood up, swaying as he made his way, over to a mirror. Taking in his appearance he scowled at himself. The gash had started to scab, rough layers of dark skin sitting over each stitch. The longer he looked, the more he felt the patches of darkness seep through his skin and into his bloodstream before clawing at his heart. He became revolted at the man that stared back at him.
You're hideous.
Drunken by his anger and rage, he punched the glass, not caring about the shards that had buried themselves deep in his knuckles. Just as he had felt before, his senses became numb, paralysed by his own fury. Every ornament he could get his hands on were shattered as they collided with the floor. Finally, when his whole room had been turned upside down he fell to the ground, feeling the hot tears soak his clothes.
No one will marry you now.
***
Ilyaas, King of Balqaas, hovered by his son's door wondering if his presence would be welcomed.
It had been a month since Abbas had not left his room. He had let everyone in but refused to come out, except for the rare moments he would leave for the Royal Library at the dead of night, or so the maids and hand servants had informed him.
His wife and eldest son had attempted to speak to Abbas about the mess in his room but they did not receive a response from him. Instead, he questioned the maid who had had been into his room to clean the mess, and she confessed that she had been hushed by the Prince to not inform anyone about it.
Of course, he and his wife were worried, but soon enough they discovered the reason for his son's behaviour. The Prince had hit rock bottom. King Ilyaas was afraid of this but never knew his son would feel it any sooner. As he finally knocked on the uninviting doors and made his way in, Ilyaas noticed Abbas hunched on a Majlis, with scrolls, tapestries and even books scattered around him.
"Salaam, my son."
"Salaam, Baba." He looked up and replied before setting his eyes on the book he was reading.
"What are you reading?" Ilyaas asked, taking a seat by the piles of scrolls and books.
"Just some notes of different battle approaches." His son replied nonchalantly. Ilyaas let his son read, observing the dullness in his eyes.
"I presume you are aware of the banquet held tomorrow evening?"
Abbas put his book down and glanced at his father.
"I am aware."
"Well, will you be attending?" His father inquired. Abbas was quiet for a moment before he answered.
"I shall, InshAllah." Not that he had a choice to decline.
A smile crept on the corners of his father's face but immediately disappeared. Abbas, however, had caught it just before it ceased to exist.
"That is good news. Do you want to inform them about your absence in battle or should I?"
"You can inform them,"
Abbas made sure he kept his tone icy, keeping his gaze on the passages of his book, even though the words would not absorb in.
"Well then," Ilyaas agreed, taking a stand. "I shall see you tomorrow evening InshAllah."
Abbas watched form the corner of his eyes as his father left and sighed once the doors had completely shut. It had been a dragging month for Abbas, his weeks filled with meeting after meeting and rejection after rejection. Slowly, he felt his mood declining and health deteriorating, unable to stomach any food or water. He felt no need to leave his quarters and stayed in his room, lamenting in his own despair.
Abbas began feeling terrified of leaving his space. The thought of even stepping out of his quarters allowed for anxious whispers of fear to enter his mind. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Why had he agreed to attend when he didn't even know how he was going to face everyone with his new face? He couldn't go back on his word either.
As King Ilyaas walked away from his son's quarters, he felt joy that Abbas would finally leave his room and socialise. He felt even more at ease when Abbas had agreed for him to tell the others, for he had good news to share.
But what worried him, was the icy layer that formed over his son's heart.
Glossary:
Keffiyah – white headdress Arab men wear
Jilba – dress
Khaltu – Auntie
Sahiba – Your highness
Sayidati – Madam/Ma'am
Ibni - my son
Inshallah - If God wills
Hab(i)eebati - My love
Mashallah - God has willed (expression for appreciation)
Salaam - Islamic greeting