The rays of light streamed through the windows onto the carpeted floor like veins of raw gold stretched thin in the heat of the early morning sun. Someone yelled out in anguish and my eyes flew open.
Sanaa rushed into my room just as I threw the silk covers off of my body, my feet sinking into the richly carpeted floor, running through the enormous bedchamber. She grabbed my arms checking to see if I was hurt. I patted her arms before leaning back on my palms to stretch my neck.
More shouts echoed from the hall and Sanaa helped get me ready. What was going on? We managed to wrangle my hair under control just as my father burst into the room, eyes wild, his turban in his hands.
"Baba," I whispered as Sanaa bowed her head. With a flick of his wrist, Sanaa was dismissed, closing the door behind her. "What's going on?"
"I've received a letter"
"Yes?"
"Your mother's cousin and his family were killed while they were traveling from the capital"
The blood seemed to leave my body. "But..."
"The Sultan's heirs are dead," I collapsed on the floor cushions.
"Where's Mehmet?" The heir. The actual heir to the throne. The remaining son.
He ran his hand through his hair, his mouth pressed in a harsh line."On his way to the capital. He's struggling to make alliances. Several of the Sultan's other sons have decided to rally their troops," that would mean... "They have not forgotten about you. They'll ask for you in a day or two. My sources told me they might have you married to one of the other sons, to prove their legitimacy," I raised a hand to my mouth, fighting the bile in my throat. To be shipped away, like cattle. And that too, to an illegitimate contender!
"What do we do?" he sat down next to me, his face reflecting the worry on mine. "They killed my mother, they might kill me too... Baba! What if they force this? What if the Caliph decrees that I should leave?" my voice rose up and he hushed me, his tone placating. "Where would I go? Where would we go?" my life seemed to be forfeit.
"I won't let them take you away from me. I've thought of a solution but promise me, my child, promise me that you'll do as I say," I stared at him, not understanding his words. "I've sent a missive to the palace. The Caliph is due to arrive today from Baghdad. I will discuss my plan with him and hopefully, he'll see reason, my child. He'll want to keep you here..."
"As a political pawn. Until they figure out who takes the throne"
He raised his head, his gaze hard and focused."As the jewel of his palace"
The whole world seemed to have stopped. Baba had gone to the palace to receive the Caliph. I lay across the floor cushions, my hair sprawled across the material. My whole life hinged on a single decision.
"Don't be so glum. He'll agree..." Sanaa muttered, running her hand through my hair. I sat up watching the inky waterfall flow with my movements.
"And I'll be confined to another cage. Surrounded by the same men who've made the very rules I'm running from"
She tsked. "It's either that or running for your life. What do you think the Emir would prefer?"
"What did he mean, a jewel of the palace? My father would not ask me to be a part of the Harem, would he?" Sanaa shook her head, her gaze was unconvincing. "What else could he mean?"
Sanaa shuffled forward. "I heard the guards talking. The Emir wants you to marry one of the princes"
I let out a short laugh."The Caliph would never agree. I'm just the daughter of an Emir"
"The only female heir to the Seljuk throne. A true princess..." a gentle rap on the door let us know that my father was back. We scrambled to our feet and he entered the room, his steps precise and calculated. Sanaa moved to exit but he stopped her by raising his hand.
"Prepare Laila, she is to be married tomorrow"
My mother used to tell me stories of gallant princes who would swoop in to save the day. She would tell tales of brave men who stood and fought for what was right despite the whole world being against them. Those men would be honorable. The true saviors and perpetrators of Islam.
My husband to be, Prince Alizayd, the third son of the Caliph, Al Nasir, was not one of them.
My feet floated above the marbled lobby of the grand palace. I had been bathed and dressed in an ensemble of silk and damask. The light blue dress encompassed with silver and good detailing shimmered in the evening rays of the sun. A slim circlet of silver, spangled with pearls and tiny blue sapphires, a gift from the Caliph, adorned my brow. Around my neck was another fetter, made to match. Thin diamond bangles clinked together on my wrists with every movement.
Every one of my movements seemed to be mechanical, methodical. Sanna walked beside me, her eyes wide open as she took in the beauty of the palace. I stared ahead, feeling my freedom and choice slip away with every step. I could not erase the look of wild desperation in my father's eyes from my mind. His plea haunting me with every step that I took.
The guards bowed their heads, pushing the heavy doors open and Baba nodded his head. I raised my head an inch, trying to discern the layout of the room. The groom's side sat on the dais, at the end of the throne room. The Caliph came down the steps and embraced my father in a warm hug, ignoring me and leading him to the Prince.
Sanaa helped me gather my dress and step up the stairs where I sat on the overly embroidered floor cushion. She fixed my veil and my jewelry as I kept my gaze ahead, my heart thundering in my chest. After the required people had entered their names on the nikkah naama (marriage contract) the ceremony began.
The Qari asked the usual questions. If I was willing, what the Mehr was going to be, was there anything objectionable about the groom. No one stood up and my stomach clenched. Had Baba really been that desperate? I was marrying a murderer. I was marrying the man who had killed my mother's people.
The words Qubool hai (I do) barely escaped my sealed lips. The Qari directed his questions to the groom and I heard the low rumble of his voice echo in the silent room.
It was done. I was married. Sweets were passed around, greetings exchanged. My lashes swept up to peek at my husband and my heart sank. His dark turban was styled in a manner suggesting a desire for order in all things. His profile was an artist's study in angles as he remained motionless, his eyes staring ahead.
The translucent barrier between us could only provide me a very brief look at his features. As if my prayer had been heard in the heavens, Sanaa passed a mirror into my lap, lifting the veil between us, angling it so I could see my newly wedded husband. Eyes in such a strange shade of hazel that they appeared golden in certain flashes of light, met mine and I gasped. Prince Alizayd's thick eyebrows raised a fraction and I cursed my reaction. A face that cut; a gaze that pierced.
My heart pounded and I turned my face away, having seen enough. He was the man from the bazaar. There was no doubt in it. Did he recognize me? No, I concluded. He could not have, I was too far away. To be fair I would not have noticed him if it wasn't for his unusual eye color. I had no such features.
Thankfully, the ceremonial activities came to an end and two more maids joined Sanaa helping me down the steps. I strode away from the dais going up to my father, refusing to balk, even in the face of the Caliph.
"Baba," I breathed out as his arms circled around me.
"Rest your fears, Abdullah. She is part of the family now, a true Shehzadi (princess) of the Caliphate, my daughter," I looked at the Caliph, tears threatening to spill out. His stern eyes softened and his hand reached out to cup my cheek, his face radiating kindness. "Do not worry daughter, this is your palace. Your domain," I nodded, dropping my arms to my side.
"Baba, Emir," my spine straightened when I heard my husband's voice from beside me. He paused a good meter away and I inched closer to my father's side.
"Congratulations son. You're a man now!" the Caliph clapped a heavy hand on his back and I flinched at the resounding boom. "It's been a rough day, why don't we let the bride go to her rooms? Settle in, eh Abdullah? We have a tremendous feast prepared where I'll announce my arrival and the marriage," Baba nodded, his gaze on the floor.
I gulped, feeling helplessness wash over me. It was done. Any freedom that I'd supposedly had was now gone.
Baba gave me a side hug, kissing the top of my head, murmuring words of comfort before I was whisked away to my new quarters.
The palace buzzed with activity for the feast. Servants roamed around lowering their gazes when we passed. Sanaa and the handmaidens led me through a series of corridors, choosing not to remark on my tear-streaked face. I traced my steps, keeping markers of where we were and the turns we took, not wanting to be at a disadvantage.
Two guards stood in front of giant golden doors. They raised their fists, placing them on their heart as a sign of respect. I nodded, trying to seem regal as they pushed the doors open.
I stepped into the giant room.
The room looked untouched, books laying haphazardly on a large mahogany desk, cushions thrown haphazardly on the carpeted floor. The walls were filled with art: paintings on silk screens and delicate tapestries. Balled up parchments were set next to a feathered quill and a nub of candle wax that needed to be replaced.
Though everything was dusted and freshly swept, it was clear nothing had been changed for my arrival.
"Is this my room?"
They giggled."No, this is Prince Alizayd's bedroom," heat rushed to my face. Of course.
"I thought I was going to have my own chambers?"
"They are connected through here, they've been recently furnished" I walked in, my eyes catching the big bed, crowded with soft brocaded cushions in the center of the room.
My feet sunk into the richly carpeted floor, studying the enormous bedchamber, taking in the beautifully woven rugs and delicately painted silk wall. A massive landscape of the countryside, painted by an Egyptian artist, dominated one wall, and a carved wooden door led to what I assumed was my own private bath.
This room was beautiful but it was...
"It's a bit too much" Sanaa whispered in my ear. I nodded and the other two women looked at each other, their gazes meaningful.
"Of course, you can refurbish it," I shook my head. I wasn't going to pick this fight today.
"It is wonderful," they smiled, pacified. "I should get to know your names since we're supposedly stuck together."
The tall dark-haired beauty moved forward, giving me a brief bow. Her dark eyes were expertly lined with kohl and her lips were darkened with beeswax. "I'm Ayesha, Shehzadi," I nodded and gave her a brief smile.
"My name's Haleema, Shehzadi," the second of the two said coming to stand by Ayesha, her green eyes alight with mischief. Her dark blonde hair glinted in the dying sunlight as she performed a perfect curtsey.
"Will you please help me get out of this?" I looked at Ayesha and Haleema, they nodded and moved around, placing the garments on the bed. Sanaa guided me towards a mahogany vanity, removing my veil, the pins in my hair, and letting it flow free.
"You've got such beautiful hair Shehzadi" Ayesha gasped out and I smiled.
"Just like her mother," Sanaa answered.
"Did she look like you?" Haleema asked, her hands working on folding everything. I nodded and she sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Isn't Prince Alizayd handsome? The two of you would make such a lovely couple," my face fell and I looked at my hands in my lap.
"Haleema," Ayesha scolded. I stared at the colorful draperies on the walls and willed my composure to return. I needed friends here, I could not be offended at everything that was being said.
"It's fine Ayesha. Please Haleema, feel free to speak your mind. There are no formalities between us," Sanna nodded to reiterate my words.
They worked in silence then, drawing up a bath and washing my hair with a wonderfully scented shampoo. Haleema worked on drying my hair, putting dabs of scented oil on the back of my ears, on my wrists, rubbing them on the nape of my neck, preparing me for my wedding night.
Sanaa helped me into a gauzy white number and I blushed at my exposed flesh.
"Everything will be okay" she whispered and stepped back, turning to leave. I encased her in a hug. Ayesha and Haleema gave me brief smiles and turned around to give us some privacy.
"I'll miss you"
"I'll miss you more Laila," Her eyes shining with unshed tears. I was losing everything today. Family, friends, freedom...
Eventually, I let her go and they walked out the door, eyes lowered, their mouths prim.
I tugged on my exposed cleavage, my eyes trained on the door, waiting for my husband to arrive.
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What do we think about the Prince?