"Baba!" Four voices cried out in unison and I drank the Karkade, savoring its sweetened tang.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"He didn't know? That's his wife, Baba"
"A Turk!" Amina howled, sending the bread on her plate flying into the water. I winced at the wastage of food.
"An Seljuk Princess, wow," Zainab breathed out and I gulped in the liquid, watching a cacophony of emotions flow over the Caliph's face.
Prince Alizayd turned his gaze towards me and something in me lit up. How dare he look at me like that? I hadn't chosen my lineage!
My mother had escaped from the dungeons of Istanbul, to find a new life here in the city. My grandparents had been friends with my father's family and had arranged a marriage for her safety.
He had no right to look at me that way. I was not a spy sent to seduce him. I did not choose to give up my freedom.
He raised an eyebrow, the muscles around his jaw tight. I knew what he saw. He was surprised. I gave him a curt nod, feeling the dynamics of our brief relationship shift.
Well, bad luck for him. I turned my gaze towards my father in law, watching him look at me, a curious light in his eyes.
"She's your equal by lineage boys. Her mother's side has pure royal blood," he answered, taking a swig of his drink.
"That's just one half. And lineage is passed through the father," Amina mumbled and I choked on a laugh.
"You mean the Emir of this city? Great-grandson to the Great Caliph? Descended from Salahuddin Ayubi? That father?" I pressed my lips together, watching her come to terms with my family.
If I were a better person, I would have felt sorry for her, but I could not forget the look of pure hatred in her eyes.
"Apologies Baba. As always, you are wise in your decisions," Prince Khalid said, his voice pacifying. The Caliph waved away his apology.
"I think you should be apologizing to my wife" my head whipped to the side, my mouth open in shock. Zaynab squeaked, her hand over her heart.
The Caliph nodded and Prince Khalid cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. My humblest apologies Laila. May I call you Laila, Princess?" I nodded, still in a daze. "We're very sorry. We did not intend to make you feel unwelcome. The situation nowadays demands that we be... cautious"
"Whatever the situation demands Khalid, it doesn't allow you or your wife to be rude to the Princess." I glanced at him, silently urging for him to let this go.
"Yes, I wonder if you'll let the fact that Baba didn't tell you all of this, go, Ali," Amina threw a baleful look my way. "Your husband is not a forgiving man."
I stiffened. Your husband is not a forgiving man. What did that mean? Was she threatening me?
"What nonsense Amina," Princess Zainab snapped, her face hard. "Enough with this. Let's have our lunch in peace," Everyone nodded, their eyes on their plates.
I shifted my gaze to my husband. Prince Alizayd seemed to have been stretched taut like a bowstring. So there must be some credence to the statement and his reputation.
Heart sinking to my knees, my fingers worked quickly, finishing the rest of my meal in small quick bites.
I ignored the meaningless conversation flowing between Prince Khalid, Princess Zainab, and the Caliph, the thoughts in my mind flowing like the Nile.
"Laila" I raised my eyes. "Your father wished to visit today. I told him to give you a few days to settle in"
I gulped and fought the sudden tears in my eyes. "Is he... well?" The Caliph nodded, his hand moving in a lazy arc.
Prince Khalid gave me a warm smile. "Must be hard to let your daughter go," I smiled back, taking this statement as an olive branch.
"With your permission Baba, I wish to be excused," four heads turned to look at Prince Alizayd in a confused stupor. The Caliph nodded and we watched as he exited the gardens with the grace of a warrior on a hunt.
Prince Khalid raised an eyebrow. "He's the General, would do you expect," Princess Zaynab answered for her father, nudging the salmon towards me. "Don't mind him, Laila, he's always been like this. He's barely been with us. For the longest time I thought I was being tricked into believing that I had a third brother"
"Yes, Ali was always with father, so Zaynab and I were the only ones who actually spent time together," Princess Zaynab gave Prince Khalid a fond look.
"Do you have any siblings Laila?" I shook my head at Amina. She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Life is lonely without them. And your mother?"
"She passed away when I was young,"
I received the round of condolences with a tight sensation around my heart. Amina's questions weren't idle. She was prodding at something. What was it?
The Caliph stood up and we scrambled to our feet. "This was a wonderful lunch. Well done Zaynab. Laila! Welcome to the family... Khalid, we've got to meet the courtiers and make sure to settle any questions about this marriage."
Prince Khalid stood up immediately. "Yes, Baba."
Minutes later I was being escorted to my room, the luncheon long was forgotten. The afternoon passed quickly as Ayesha and Haleema fawned over the wedding presents and congratulatory notes from various rulers and Emirs of the Caliphate. I picked up a beautiful jade comb, running my fingers over the emeralds embedded in the floral design.
How much would this cost? Could I sequester this away? Would it be enough to feed the refugees for a year?
"Oh, this is beautiful Princess!" I flashed her a smile, trying to keep my emotions off my face.
I ignored their chatter, taking another deep breath and reveling in the normalcy. I knew I only had a few hours of peace before the storm and I intended to savor what I could of it.
They weren't going to let me be, I was sure of it. After my husband's act this afternoon, he'd signed my death warrant. I knew enough of court politics to know that Amina would not let that go. The news of my heritage and what happened at lunch would have already spread through the palace like fire.
The hatred in his eyes was haunting and dangerous. He hated the Turks and was most likely trying to find ways to get rid of me. Possibly trying to understand why his father had agreed to this match.
Would he confront me? Probably not. He wouldn't even bother asking his wife, I was sure of it. Royalty or not, he was still just a man.
I sighed, watching Haleema run a brush through my hair, marveling at how she had managed to restore its shine. She was a magician. Ayesha readjusted the straps on my shoulders and I admired my legs under the silk shift. It was a pretty thing, the fabric so thin it was nearly sheer, chased through with impossibly fine gold embroidery and adorned with delicate ivory beads. At another time—with another person—I might have delighted in the teasing way it brushed my bare skin-
"Are you..." I jumped in surprise, turning around to see Prince Ali paused at the doorway, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly.
Haleema and Ayesha squeaked and ran out of the room, their heads bowed, their mouths tumbling with apologies.
I clutched at my chest, trying to find something to cover me. He cleared his throat and readjusted his gaze, holding out the robe that had been placed on the cushions, near the bed.
I lowered my eyes and slipped it on, feeling his eyes on my back as I started to go towards my bed.
With the suddenness of a cat leaping upon its prey, he bounded forward, caught my arm in a firm grip, whirled me towards him, caging me between himself and the wall, his eyes shifting to an intense amber.
I swallowed back my fear and turned, keeping my hands still and my eyes on his. Now was not the time to be timid.
"Who are you?" His body did not touch mine but I felt the hardened length of it as though the nerve endings along my skin were directly attached to his by little hooks that tugged with sweet pain.
"I think we established that well enough this afternoon," I stared at his black qamis, the sound of my life's blood roaring in my ears.
"The kitten has claws"
I gave him a pensive look. "I don't know what you mean"
"I have the marks on my back to prove it..." the marks on his back? My face flushed when I fully comprehended the meaning of those words.
"And here I thought you'd be a gentleman"
"I'm no gentleman Princess," His broad chest lifted in exhalation, and my breath caught it in return.
I shot him a pointed grin, warring with the urge to splash the remainder of my water in his face. "Well that's something that we can both agree on," God, he was big and strong, and delicious smelling. It was an ineffable clean scent, yet it consumed me, making my mouth water and my head spin
"Since we're being so agreeable, answer me. Who are you and why are you here?"
"I don't like repeating myself Prince Alizayd. I am your wife, your equal and I will not be treated like a criminal."
His face darkened. "How did your father convince mine for our marriage?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he stared at me, unmoving. "I don't know. He didn't tell me."
Your husband is not a forgiving man. The words rang in my head and I shivered.
He nodded, his fingers rubbing along his jaw. "What do you know about the Turks?"
"Nothing," He bent closer, and my knees wobbled. For a moment we simply stood still, the air between us a palpable thing, buzzing and heated. Liquid lust surged through my veins like wildfire.
I wanted to move, do something rash, crush my lips to his and simply take, press myself against him and ease the ache.
Your husband is not a forgiving man. I stepped back into the wall, feeling the rough texture scrap against the silk shift. How would it feel to be pressed against the wall? With my legs around his waist, him pushing into me, his brow against mine? Would it be fast or slow? Would he pound into me, holding my hands captive above my head or would he stroke, slow and steady, his hand in mine, his chest plastered against my breasts...
My inner thighs clenched with a new ache. A firey blush took over my cheeks and I shook my head trying to escape those languid thoughts. He stared at me, sensing the shift, his jaw tense, a gather of his resolve. His gaze widened as I bit my lip. He could feel the sudden tension, the need.
"Tread lightly, Princess," His rich voice had lowered to raw huskiness, his thumb moving lightly over my fluttering pulse as I stared with my mouth slightly parted, my heart beating furiously within my breast. "You know, it's never wise to lie to me."
"I'm not lying," His gaze lowered to my hand which was still locked in his grip. His hand lifted, moving with agonizing slowness, raising my wrist towards his mouth.
My eyes widened in shock, a silent cry escaping my lips.
His hot mouth closed around my forefinger and I nearly arched off the wall. His body pressed in as his mouth sucked on the pad of my finger, gently biting the skin. I took in a ragged breath, and a burst of heat flared over my skin, settling between my legs. The tips of my breasts brushed against his chest as I struggled to gain equilibrium.
He sucked my finger, his tongue moving around, back and forth, kissing, biting. My nipples hardened and I squirmed. This was agony but such sweet torture.
He gripped my waist and lifted me up, settling into me, my bare legs hooked around his waist on either side. He groaned, his hand coming up to hold me in place, stroking my skin, his fingers pressing into my flesh.
Oh my, I could not take this.
My breathing sped up, searching, wanting, needing something-
He rolled his hips, pushing into me.
My eyes flew open.
This was madness. He was... this wasn't natural. This was hell. This was heaven.
I watched it come, his broad shoulders blocking out the lamp light, his head angled towards me, my lips desperate for his.
The swells of my breasts rose and fell over my shift with a rapid rhythm. The tip of his nose brushed against my hair as his lips touched the corner of my mouth.
My world shrank down to that one touch. Enough to leave me dizzy.
Gently his fingertips brushed the upper curve of my left breast, and I gasped, pushing it into his hands. Only inches away, he stopped, his body visibly stiffening.
My eyes squeezed shut, and I swayed. Waiting.
His deep voice rumbled against my ear. "Good night, Princess." My eyes flew open.
He was already halfway to his own room.
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Sorry for the delay, I promise to be more regular!