"I sincerely apologise," Salma muttered, her eyes glued to the dusty floor of the household she loathed the most.
A long silence followed, and just as Salma looked up, she caught the mocking sneer Jafr gave her before his face contorted into a sympathetic expression.
"Oh, Salma," he breathed. "I'll always have the heart to forgive you,"
Salma fought hard to stop her fist from meeting his face.
"Mama, please? Will you forgive my dear Salma? I'm sure it was a misunderstanding," he fake-pleaded giving the soppiest look to his mother, who finally steered her scowl away from Salma.
"But Habeebi, she doesn't deserve you," his mother replied, cupping her grown son's cheeks as if he were anything but, completely ignoring the fact that Salma stood before them with her foster parents by her side.
Despite not meaning it, Salma was not going to apologise again. Once was enough, and if his mother was still not happy, she wouldn't mind for not marrying Jafr would make her the happiest.
"Mama, I beg of you, "Jafr appealed, dramatically dropping to his knees. "I could never come to love anyone just as I have for Salma,"
Instantly, his mother followed, cradling him in her arms.
Salma scoffed, earning a pinch on her arm from her foster mother.
This man couldn't be serious. When they were younger, Jafr was known to have a swaying heart, expressing his dying love for a new girl every week and he had definitely not changed nine years later.
Of course, Salma had to be his most recent and last victim, unless he was planning to continue after they got married. She mentally shook her head of such vile thoughts.
"Oh, my poor son!" His mother continued stroking his head, as he started making whimpering sounds.
Salma and her foster parents just watched awkwardly from where they stood.
"Fine, if we must for the sake of our son," his father hissed, pulling up his wife and weak-legged son. "We shall oblige to his choice. Despite our disapproval, we will let Salma marry him,"
Wasn't it the other way round?
Why were his parents making it seem like he were the woman?!
"We are eternally grateful for your kindness!" Salma's foster mother beamed, stepping forward.
"I and my wife will always be thankful for the compassion your son has towards Salma," Her foster father continued, shaking Jafr's father's hand.
Salma couldn't even bear to look at them. For the sake of their happiness, she would have to sacrifice her own, even if it meant living her entire life in torture.
"If not for our son, we would have not even bothered with a sla-girl like you," Umm Jafr squawked. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you,"
Before she could pull the woman's hair out, Jafr prowled towards her.
"Habeebati," came his slimy voice, before a strong grip pulled at her hands. Salma attempted to free herself but his grip was tightly wrapped around her own. "You don't know how happy I am to be marrying you,"
"Let go, you shouldn't be doing this." Salma gritted through her teeth. His hold was starting to become painful.
"Just know that no matter what happens, I will always be by your side," he taunted, crushing her hands and giving her a scummy smile.
"Jafr," added her foster father, thankfully motioning to their hands. "I understand that you are pleased, but we must keep up to our Islamic teachings,"
"Of course! Where are my manners?" Jafr replied, dropping her hands.
"Silly boy, "His mother chortled. "Wait until the wedding night and then you can hold her as much as you want!"
The two men cleared their throats awkwardly turning away, whilst the two women had the cheek to giggle. Her foster mother seemed to find the situation amusing, as she rarely smiled.
Salma, on the other hand, was going to throw up. She didn't even want to think about that horrific night.
"We must set the date soon," Jafr stated. "Otherwise I fear I will end up sinning because of my impatience,"
He didn't seem too bothered about all the other times he was too touchy, Salma thought. Oh, how she wished to smack the lies right off his mouth.
"Wait-" she protested, but her foster mother stepped in.
"Of course! We shouldn't delay it further, Habeebi. Have you got a specific date in mind?" she clapped, sending Salma an icy glare.
"Eid will be upon us soon, and it will be too soon to hold the wedding before then, so I was thinking maybe a month from now? That way we have time to plan," he jeered, earning satisfactory nods from all except his wife-to-be.
"That is perfect! Oh, my dear son is so clever!" she cooed, patting his cheek.
"Can I-ah!"Salma intervened again, but a sharp pain on her arm cut her off again.
"Habeebi, what do you think? Jafr has a good point," her foster mother asked.
"He does make a good point but I think it is a little too soon," he replied.
Thank God she wasn't the only one who thought so!
"Nonsense! It's a perfect time!" her foster mother bawled, reddening a little.
"It's not right to delay their ceremony for longer," Jafr's father said rigidly.
They all gave her foster father a stern look, waiting for his reason. Salma felt sorry as she watched them gang up on him and she felt annoyed for not being able to support him, for she knew her voice would not be heard.
She was being forced into this marriage and it was final.
"Its just I-I need more time to s-save up for the ceremony," he stuttered under their intense gazes, growing red from embarrassment.
Salma was on the brink of tears. She could never appreciate the money her foster father invested in the ceremony because she would never be happy with this marriage or in fact for the rest of her life. His investment was for her doom.
"Don't be silly! We will pay for the whole thing!" Jafr's mother bellowed. "It is our only son's wedding, we have been saving up for this for years!"
"Umm Jafr is quite right, you needn't have to worry about the expenses, "Jafr's father reiterated, patting her foster father on the arm.
"I couldn't do that to you," he replied, shaking his head.
"We insist, besides we wouldn't accept any money from you even if you tried," Jafr continued.
Salma had to admit that this was the first time something good came out from Jafr's mouth.
"All we need is your approval for the date to be set,"
Her foster father was quiet, eyes glued to the floor in deep thought. All eyes were on him eager for his answer, including Salma's who was secretly praying for the opposite.
Despite her situation, she had an inkling of hope that, of all the people in the room, her father would have some sympathy left for her. But when he looked up to face her, the hopeful flame distinguished. His eyes spoke of deep remorse and she couldn't bear to look any longer because she knew this was his final answer.
"I approve," he muttered.
***
The moment he heard footsteps approaching, Husaam quickly folded up the map of the city and swiftly hid behind the stack of craters, diminishing the minuscule flame with the tip of his fingers.
Without Salma's knowledge, he returned to using the hut as his base. After his little adventure into the Palace, the streets were on higher patrol than before and even the motels and inns had been notified to look out for a strange individual travelling alone. This made it intensely difficult for him to move around the city, but he did expect this to happen. Husaam knew the next time he went into the Palace, he had to get to the Prince. It didn't matter what happened after.
All he had to do was kill.
The door to the hut opened and in shone a yellow beam, illuminating the darkness. Hasty footsteps entered, and from where he sat, Husaam heard the person quietly shut the doors before sliding to the floor. He didn't need to look to know who it was.
Salma's legs finally gave way the moment she entered the hut. Crumbling on to the floor, she placed the warm lamp beside her and wrapped her arms around her legs. After the events of today, Salma could no longer bear to hold in her emotions and the moment they got home, she broke away from her foster parents and came straight to the hut. It really was happening, the ceremony date was set.
Just when she started sniffling, the door to the hut swung open and she leapt up in shock, wiping away her tear-streaked face when her foster mother stormed in.
"What are you doing here?" her foster mother demanded.
"I-I," Salma stuttered, still not recovered from the shock. This woman had done enough to her today, pinching and all, and now she couldn't even give her a break?
"What are you doing here? Don't think I haven't noticed you, I've caught you many times coming here, now tell me what are you doing here?!" her foster mother repeated in a louder and harsher tone.
"I-I just came to get something," Salma stammered, saying the first excuse that can to mind.
"Get what? Whatever would you want from inside these dusty craters? They're all empty!" she replied, scoffing.
Salma was silent.
"You've been meeting someone here, haven't you?" Her foster mother crooned, taking a step closer to Salma. "Jafr wasn't lying when he saw you with another man,"
"Jafr was lying, I'm not meeting anyone!" Salma retaliated. It may have been true once a upon a time, but now this place was solely just her getaway space. She was really tired of all the accusations being constantly thrown at her, and the events of today had not made her mood any better.
"Look at you! Such a shameful girl to speak so rudely about the man you will marry!" She spat, grabbing Salma roughly by the shoulder.
Husaam cautiously peered out from behind the craters, watching the two from the little vision of space he had.
"He is a liar! You don't know anything about how he truly is!" Salma replied, earning a rough slap to her cheek.
"Silence!" Her foster mother boomed, pushing her to the wall roughly. "I don't care who he is, you will marry him and I will finally be rid of you. You don't know how long I've waited for this day,"
Husaam clenched his fists in anger. He was ready to storm out from the shadows, but he knew he couldn't. What would happen after he revealed himself? As much as he wanted to help her, it would only make her foster mother happy because her suspicions had been correct. Besides, he was meant to be avoiding Salma. Her knowledge of him staying here would only cause a danger to herself.
"I'm glad to know how you truly feel about me," Salma said under her breath, rubbing the arm that hit the wall.
"Tell me, who is it you're meeting," Her foster mother repeated coldly.
"I'm not meeting anyone! There is no one here, just me!" Salma croaked, the bitter truth stinging her throat. She would forever be alone, and today her foster father proved it to her. No one was on her side. The sad truth made her want to die.
"Well then, come out this instant, or I will burn this place down!" Her foster mother demanded, grabbing her arm and pulling Salma out of the hut. "All I have to do is wait one month and I'll finally be rid of a sleazy, lying slave girl. My home will be cleansed of filthy your existence!"
From the sheer force of her foster mother's grip on her arm, Salma could only follow, in fear of losing her arm if she retaliated. Only had they entered her room did her foster mother finally let go, slamming the door shut when she left. Angry tears ran across Salma's stinging cheek, and she punched her pillow, imagining a certain someone's face on it. She wanted to scream and shout the whole building down but she couldn't. She wasn't a child, she was am adult and the only way to handle this was the mature way. If he wanted to marry her, fine. She was going to divorce him straight after, whether he liked it or not. Salma didn't have to worry about her foster parents either because once they gave her away, she was no longer their responsibility.
Husaam finally stepped out of the shadows when the footsteps of the two women drifted away. Glancing through the window, he witnessed the brute of the woman pulling Salma inside. With their backs turned, he couldn't see her face but Husaam didn't need to to know how the girl felt.
They had finally settled it. They were forcing her into this marriage, whether she liked it or not, and it was definitely the latter from the way she reacted last time. He was annoyed. Of course, this was no business of his to care about but somewhere deep down the hole in his soul, Husaam felt a tinge of anger. He thought after he saved her, she would be living a much better life, and he felt ashamed to see still being treated like this.
He had to do something. After some serious thought and a raging internal battle of decisions, Husaam had decided that he had another pressing matter to tend to. He had to stop this wedding, somehow.
***
Harun rounded the hall of the Palace, on his way to the stables, when he spotted Thaina ahead of him. From the skittering footsteps she made, he suddenly became amused by what she was up to. After pleading his advisors to go ahead and that he would meet them soon, Harun followed his wife, ducking into the corners when she turned to look back. It was difficult to stay hidden when every time a maid or servant walked by, they obliged to greet him with joyful smiles. Luckily, he had managed to follow Thaina into the training grounds without being caught. All the while, his curiosity grew.
Why would she be heading to the training grounds?
Sauntering closer to her, he had noticed she stopped by the corner of the weapons and armoury shed, steadily peeking over. Without a single ounce of noise, Harun crept up beside his wife and peeked over to have a look at what she was looking at. There in the distance was a familiar figure, two, in fact, sparring lightly with wooden swords. Apart from feeling a little surprised to see his gentle sister-in-law wielding a weapon, he also felt a great deal of content when he noticed the enormous grin across his brother's scarred face.
"They look like they're enjoying themselves," he muttered, realising a second later that he had blown his cover. Before his dear wife screamed her head off, he grabbed her and gently placed a finger over her lips to stop her.
Thaina literally jumped out of her skin at the sound of a voice, and she met the face of her husband with wide eyes.
"What are you doing?!" she whisper-screamed, hitting his chest lightly out of annoyance. "Wallahi, I thought my heart was going to explode!"
"No need to worry Habeebati, it is only me. I had to stop you from screaming before you gave our location away," he smiled. "You were literally begging me to follow you from the way you were suspiciously walking,"
"I-I wasn't being suspicious!" Thaina stuttered.
"So tell me, how long have you known about this?" Harun inquired, raising a playful brow.
"Ehm, not for long....maybe a week?"
"And when were you planning on telling me?"
"Soon?" Thaina replied guiltily. "To be honest, I didn't know if I should, in case you weren't-"
"Happy with it?" He finished, earning a nod from his wife. "Why wouldn't I be? It is not really my business to intrude, besides I'm sure they have their reasons,"
Thaina smiled. Of course, he wouldn't mind. Why was she so worried he would be against it?
"I'm just glad to see Abbas in a happier mood," Harun continued. "He has become more confident with himself since Haifa came. You would never think Abbas was the way he was before their marriage. He had built such a deep hole within himself that prevented anyone from approaching him, but I think Haifa is slowly filling that hole, lifting him out of that darkness,"
"You're right," Thaina smiled before she slowly peaked her head out again to have a look. "They're gone!" she exclaimed.
Harun slowly peaked out too, and after noticing their absence he stepped out of the shadow.
"They were here just a moment ago," Thaina sighed, following him.
"We were until we noticed two very familiar spies," came a gruff voice from behind them, and both Harun and Thaina whirled round to find a frowning Abbas with Haifa beside him, dressed in an abaya, different from the attire she wore before.
"Ah, Abbas!" Harun stuttered. "We were just on our way to the stables when we noticed the both of you,"
It wasn't a complete lie. "My advisors and I were going to go for a morning ride,"
Thaina nodded, smiling nervously.
Abbas noticed Haifa tense up a little beside him.
"Thaina was going to join you?" he asked, knowing how much his sister-in-law hated horseriding.
"She was just going to accompany me there," Harun started, but his wife pressed her lips.
"Ok, you got us!" Thaina burst out, unable to keep up with the white lie. "I've been following you both to the training grounds after I spotted you a few days before, but Harun only found out today because he followed me,"
Haifa nervously waited for the Crown Prince to utter a word of dismay. Surely he couldn't be happy with her wielding a sword.
"Well?" Abbas grumbled.
"Well, what?" Harun asked.
"Are you going to tell me you're against this?"
"I'm not," The Crown Prince shrugged.
"Really?" Haifa asked in shock. "You're not?"
"Should I be? I mean I can't say that I'm not shocked for I could have never imagined my gentle sister-in-law to hold a weapon," he joked, trying to lighten up the mood. "But this is none of my business, if my brother wants to teach you then so be it,"
Abbas and Haifa looked at each other nervously.
"It's actually the opposite," Haifa mumbled, still twidling her hands.
"Oh," Thaina said, before turning to her husband. "Can I learn aswell?" She whispered, but when he gave her a stern look, Thaina didn't press any further. She knew his reason, especially when it was her own body. With a strenuous activity like sword fighting, the Princess knew that if she over exerted herself, her body would definitely retaliate, causing her to be bed-ridden for a few days.
The four stood awkwardly silent, unaware of how to continue the situation.
"We should get going, my advisors are probably starting to worry," Harun announced, clearing his throat. He gently grabbed Thaina by the shadows and started pushing her forward.
"Why are you always dragging me away?!" Thaina exclaimed, but Harun ignored her.
"Keep up the good work," he smiled before sauntering off.
Abbas and Haifa just stood confused, as Harun tugged Thaina towards the stables.
"Do you really think the Crown Prince is alright with this?" Haifa asked as they walked back to their quarters of the Palace.
"Harun has never been too worried about customs and useless culture," Abbas replied cooly, brushing his damp hair back with his fingers. "Besides, I'm sure he meant what he said earlier,"
When Haifa didn't respond, he stopped and turned to face her.
"Haifa," he called, but she seemed to be sucked in her own thoughts fidgeting with her hijaab.
"Hayaati," he repeated, resting a hand on her arm. Haifa finally looked up. She loved it when he called her that. "You don't need to worry so much," he continued.
"I'm just worried you will get into trouble, maybe we should stop," she frowned.
"It has been almost two weeks since we started and your skills have improved drastically, Mashallah. I was thinking about starting lessons using a real sword..." Abbas said, hoping it would convince her otherwise.
"Really!" Haifa exclaimed before her smile slowly disappeared. "But we shouldn't-"
"Shouldn't what? Is something the matter?"
Haifa turned to the voice. "Your Highness!" she greeted Queen Humayra, wrapping her abaya closer around her to conceal her training clothes.
"Is something the matter? You seemed to be discussing something very serious," the Queen said concerned.
"It's nothing too trivial Mama, you needn't worry," Abbas replied, but his mother didn't look convinced.
"Haifa Habeebati?" She asked, turning to her daughter-in-law.
"His Highness is quite right," Haifa agreed, racking her brain for an excuse. "It really isn't anything trivial. I was just worried about the Eid celebrations and the banquet,"
It wasn't even a lie. Haifa really was worried about the banquet, though it wasn't the first thing on her mind. After what had happened at the boutique, Haifa had developed a slight insecurity. She felt a tinge of fear at the mere mention of banquets or any other sort of large gathering, in fear of the whispers and stares that floated around her the whole night.
With all the recent events, their sword training and the Prince still feeling anxious as soon as night fell, Haifa had not been able to explain to him what had happened that day. She didn't expect him to do anything about but rather just be a listening ear so she could get it off her chest.
"Oh Azeezati, don't feel too burdened. The banquet is a joyous event held for the celebrations, so enjoy yourself!" Queen Humayra said, gently clasping Haifa's hands.
"Thank you, I think my biggest worry is my outfit," Haifa smiled, trying to alleviate the mood.
"Habeebati, no matter what you wear, you will always look beautiful, Mashallah, and I'm sure my son thinks so too," she winked.
Abbas looked away, heat sparking his face with embarrassment because his mother had been spot on.
"I shall see you both later, Inshallah," Queen Humayra smiled, leaving a slightly red-faced couple.
After they had returned to their room and washed up, Haifa sat on the bed running a towel through her wet hair, whilst the Prince had gone into the bathing room to shower.
It now dawned on her that the Eid celebrations were nearing, and never had she felt so anxious. Khidaaf and her clique were definitely going to be there, along with their judging mothers, and she would have to deal with their sass again.
Haifa sighed. She had to get used to this, but one particular word kept bothering her, and because it, she could feel her confidence seep away. A phantom pain ached across her abdomen, and Haifa instantly placed her hand above the scar. Years after it had closed up, this was the first time she felt a throbbing pain emit from it, almost to the point where she thought she was going delirious.
Haifa stood up and walked over to the long mirror standing by the vanity. She lifted her blouse and carefully prodded around the scar, but there were no signs of redness or bruising. Just then, the door to the bathing room opened, and the Prince stepped out with a towel around his neck.
"I was thinking-" he started, before stopping mid-sentence when his eyes fell to her exposed skin. It was only for a second before she pulled down her top, but he definitely saw the scar.
Haifa turned away from Abbas, embarrassed. She picked up her towel and continued drying her hair in silence.
"Haifa,"
"Hm?" Haifa hummed, trying to act as normal as possible and stop her hands from trembling.
"Is something the matter with y-your scar?" Abbas inquired gently, holding back his eagerness and worry.
"Hm? No, it is fine," she replied, her back still facing him.
"Haifa, I saw you inspecting it. Does it hurt?" He asked, slowly closing the distance she created between him.
"No, it's fine,"
She flinched slightly when she felt the throbbing pain again.
"Haifa," Abbas pleaded, watching as she scrunched her eyes shut.
The pain was worsening. Haifa held her clenched hands by her side, stopping them from reaching the place she wished to place them.
"Hayaati, tell me,"
He wished she wouldn't hold back about the pain she felt. He wished she would let go just a little so she didn't suffer alone. All Abbas wanted was to comfort her, but if she didn't let him, he didn't know how to.
And Haifa really wanted to too, especially when he called her that way.
"I-I just felt a little pain, it has been years since its healed but I-I just felt something," she breathed, slowly opening her eyes, seeing that the Prince now stood in front of her.
"Can I have a look?" He asked gently, earning a shocked look from her.
"Um-yes," Haifa stuttered before her conscience could comprehend her answer. She couldn't hide it forever and now was the perfect time to show him, or so she tried to convince herself.
"I don't have to if you don't want me to," Abbas reiterated, making sure she was comfortable with what she had agreed to do.
"No-it's fine," Haifa replied, ignoring the little voice in her that wanted to scream against it.
"Lay on your back,"
Her mind still a fuzzy haze, Haifa's feet carried her to the bed and she sat down, brushing her hair behind her shoulders before lying on her back. The Prince followed her and took a seat.
"I will only do this if you are absolutely sure you want me to," Abbas offered one last time.
"I-" Haifa stuttered, before sighing deeply to calm her nerves. " Wallahi, I'm sure,"
Abbas nodded, and slowly lifted her blouse to expose enough of her abdomen to see the scar. Haifa diverted her gaze to the roof of the bedframe, blinking back the moisture that helplessly gathered around her eyes.
Against her smooth skin, the jagged outline of her scar was a rough rift stretching from just below her ribs and ended just above her navel. Had it gone any further, she would have most likely not survived. Unlike his scar that had been invaded with poison, hers wasn't so harsh as the skin around it had healed well. The discolouration was visible, but the biggest evidence of the injury was the fleshy line that was the healed, new skin.
The Prince carefully placed his fingers on the discoloured skin around it, gently applying pressure around the scar. There were no signs of bruising or redness as she had mentioned.
Haifa, on the other hand, had resorted to clamping her eyes shut the moment his cool fingers touched her skin. His touch was so light, but every time their skin made contact, it sent an electric pulse through her body.
Nobody aside from her parents had seen the scar up close.
She didn't feel uncomfortable, but rather, exposed. This was the scar that she hid from the world, even though they were aware of it. This was the scar that made her a victim to taunts and gossip, defaming her family's honour. This was the scar that haunted her, its pain never escaping from her memory and now she was exposing it to a man who genuinely cared for her. He may have a scar just like hers, but he was willing to love her for who she was, despite the injury that tainted her.
As his fingers trailed over her scar, hot tears began to run down the side of her face, and Haifa brought her arm up to shield her emotion. She couldn't believe she was finally showing him, and the realisation brought tears to her eyes.
The Prince had been immersed with examining her scar for any signs of infection or injury that he hadn't noticed her tears until she physically covered them. Gently pulling her blouse down, he caught her trying to hold back her sniffles, concealing her eyes with her arm as her lips trembled.
"Hayaati," he called out to her and at the mention, Haifa burst out sobbing, covering her entire face with her hands.
Instantly, Abbas wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up so that they were both sitting, his hands caressing her head as she bawled into his chest.
"You did well Hayaati, you did well," he whispered against her ears.
At his words, more emotion erupted from her and she gripped his shirt, tears soaking it too.
The Prince didn't need to ask. He knew that this was a lot for her to take in, and so he stayed silent as Haifa let go of the emotion she kept inside for all these years.
Just when her cries lulled, she spoke up.
"I never thought bad of this scar, never regretted the moment I received it because I saved my mother," she said through sobs. "That day when they came, I protected my mother b-before they c-could-" but she couldn't finish her sentence because the memory was too painful to bear.
"It's alright Hayaati,"
"At such a young age, my hands were s-sullied with blood b-but my father, he t-took the b-blame. I tried t-telling them that it was me, but who would b-believe a girl who herself h-had almost died from being s-stabbed?" she continued, her words running loose.
Abbas remained quiet, unable to answer. The image of a far distant memory returned to him, of a night when he witnessed a young man running through the halls of his home, cradling a limp girl in his arms and leaving a trail of red after them.
And almost two decades later, he was cradling the same girl in his arms. Despite the situation, the Prince smiled, thanking God for allowing her to live that night and enter his life again.
"B-but when the gossiping started, I s-started to hate it and hate m-myself. When it all became too much, I even had thoughts of-" she paused, remembering a time when her faith was so weak.
"But you pushed through, you made it out of those thoughts and I couldn't be any prouder. You made it, you made it to me," He whispered, holding her close.
Now that it was out, Haifa felt content. For years, she had waited for the right person to expose her past to and help her overcome her horrific past. The pain she felt from her scar had almost faded completely, almost having forgotten about it.
As for Abbas, he was grateful that she had shared a painful memory with him and that she no longer had to dwell about it on her own. But he knew that he would have to do the same too.
Just as she had mentioned her past, one day he would have to explain himself too and possibly to someone other than Haifa.
Glossary:
Hijaab - Head veil
Habeebi - My love (addressed to a male)
Habeebati - My love (addressed to a female)
Inshallah - If God wills
Mashallah - By God
Azeezati - Sweety/Honey
Hayaati - My life