"Well, I should head out now. I've got lots to do tomorrow..." I sighed.
Finally, after thirty minutes, they were done with their argument. Safe to say, Zaynab hadn't let Ali get a word in edgewise. If I wasn't so agitated, I would have enjoyed their conversation.
I shuffled around in my chambers, sitting up and reaching for the beautiful shamla draped on a stool nearby. I slid my arms into the lustrous brocade and tied the silver laces, twisting the fall of my dark hair so that it hung over one shoulder, before moving to join them.
"Good night Zaynab," I called out, just as she slipped out. She waved goodbye and closed the door firmly behind her.
And then there were two.
Ali stared at me, his eyes blank, unreadable, ringed in deep lines of fatigue. His jaw was set in a harsh line, his posture rigid.
I was waiting for him to say the words. For him to talk to me, to tell me how he felt. He certainly didn't look like he wanted to be here. He didn't look sorry for hurting me.
I met his gaze with stinging circumspection. He blinked, sighed and then turned away, dragging his shirt over his head. Something knifed in my chest, behind my heart.
I had to focus. I couldn't let him distract me.
"Where were you?" I asked, trying to control the tremor in my voice. He strode towards me, his eyes fixed on my face.
"Not where I should have been."
The combination of his words and his proximity had my traitorous heart almost leaping out of my chest.
"The past two nights..."
His breath fanned on my skin as he bent toward my ear. "I was not where I wanted to be."
"Do you have any idea, how you've humiliated me? How you've hurt me?" He bowed his head, his forehead creasing. I placed my hands on his bare chest and his heart thumped under my palm, his skin warm, solid.
"Why did you do that Ali?" When he put his hands on my wrists to free himself, I merely clasped tighter, refusing to let go.
"You know why." I blinked back tears. "You put me in that vulnerable position Laila, you tried to manipulate me..."
"I didn't mean to..."
"But you did."
"And you did the same," His eyes flicked across my face before responding.
"I am just a man, Laila," there it was. The same wary way he'd said it to me in the gardens so long ago.
I stood up straighter to face him. "Then be a man who makes amends."
His face darkened and the veil of dispassion disappeared, only deepening the lines on his face.
"I'm sorry."
I shrugged. "It's a small start, but a start, nevertheless."
"I'm sorry, so very sorry..." my heart ached at the distress on his face.
"I'm sorry too," I breathed out. "I should not have done that." He nodded, his eyes pained.
"Can we not talk to each other now? Will you not tell me? Didn't you say that you couldn't bear it if I hid from you?" I grasped his hands in mine, pulling him closer. "I can't bear it if you hid from me, Ali..."
He paused, his hands shakingly coming to rest on my shoulders. "You deserve to know the truth."
"Then tell me," His reaction was scaring me.
"I have blood on my hands, Laila. Blood of countless nameless men and women. People whose names I'll never know." Ali finally uttered, his face a mask of anguished fury.
Okay, that was a start.
He moved towards the bed, his knees nearly buckling underneath him, his chest heaving. I followed, climbing on to the bed, sitting beside him.
"People look at me with fear in their eyes, fear mixed with disgust. For them, I'm a monster," he looked at me. "I could not bear it if you looked at me like that."
"Tell me the truth, Ali. What happened with the Turks?"
"I had been newly appointed as the General. Baba had said that I had to prove myself. Our first task had been to quash the small rebellion on the outskirts of Egypt, near Tunis." He trembled slightly and I kissed the back of his neck in a comforting gesture, letting my lips linger. "We gathered a small force, heading to the designated point, only to end up facing a small village of women and children."
I worked through the lump in my throat. "When was this?"
"Three years ago. We went there and checked the village. Everything seemed to be normal. We thought that our intelligence network had made a mistake."
"They hadn't made a mistake," I guessed quietly. His lips twisted in a mockery of a smile.
"No, it was a trap. The spy had deliberately lured us there. Lured me there, they wanted to keep me as a hostage." he clasped my wrists, holding on to me as his mind replayed those memories. My bottom lip wobbled a little; it was hard to see him like this.
So vulnerable. So scarred.
"They attacked in the middle of the night when the moon was at its peak. Women, children bearing arms, descended on our small force, slashing and fighting," he gestured to his back.
I controlled my sob by placing my lips on the scar he was referring to, kissing the faded mark.
He stiffened, and then shuddered.
"I got that from a particularly fearsome warrior. We didn't even have the time to react. I lost a lot of my men, they lay there on the ground, fighting for survival, helpless. Cutoff from the supply chain." His words conjured up black and white images of a lost war, pictures of hopeless men dying in the dessert, of a young General, barely a man, stranded and helpless to help his men.
Injured. In pain.
My hands moved over his shoulders and I pressed my face into his back, trying to stop the tears from flowing, being strong, for him. He relaxed and slumped against me, his body losing its tense energy.
Trusting me.
"What did you do to the person who attacked you?"
"Shot them with an arrow," he said bitterly. "It was a massacre. I gathered my men and escaped that very night. Our survival was key. We needed to get physicians and supplies. Plus, we had to weed out the spies," guilt gnawed at me. "A small operation evolved into a full war. We chased them everywhere, eventually driving them out towards the Byzantines."
"The refugees," I said connecting the dots.
"Are just the consequence of an instigated war," he muttered, disgust coating each and every word. He sighed and swiveled to look at me. "They wanted to bring down the Caliphate."
"But why?" He shrugged, his right hand trailing through my hair, over the shoulder, and down my back.
"Who knows? They never talked. But they're always ready to cause a rebellion." His left thumb lingered on my neck, brushing across the hollow at its base.
"You could have told me this Ali. You didn't have to walk out..." I shivered, goosebumps erupting all over my skin.
"How could I? How could I tell my kindhearted wife, who'd risked her life to save a bird, that I'd killed women and children?" He touched our foreheads, his eyes peering into mine, intense and full of feeling. "That I'd do all of it again to protect my men? That I'd do it to protect you?"
"You can't put me above the interests of the Caliphate Ali," I whispered, my fingers kneading the nape of his neck, pulling him towards me, my heart soaring at his admission.
"Oh but I already did. I told Baba, that my wife isn't here to play games. That she's non-negotiable, off-limits. Do you know what he told me?"
"What?"
"That my wife was meeting with the Turkish General and Mehmet's advisor," I leaned back, my heart beating loudly like a drum.
"I..."
He didn't even blink. "What Laila?"
"I came across them in the library"
"Really?"
"Really." Now that I knew the truth, it was best to let this thing end. "Afet met Zaynab and I in the library, even when you were away. It's no big deal, she considers me as a member of the royal family. Did the Caliph tell you that Seif left after greeting me?"
There was tense silence for a moment, but when he spoke again, his voice was low. "He said that the meeting was short."
"It was. Barely five minutes. Then I left to have tea with my father." He nodded, his hand moving across my jaw. "You should sleep, God knows where you've been the past few days," he smiled at my tone.
"In the barracks. My men were quite frightened with my sudden arrival," I smothered a giggle, swinging my legs back to the floor. "Where are you going?"
"To bed?"
"This is your bed. I want you here even if I'm not." I raised an eyebrow. "When I go for my duties," he clarified. "I'm not going anywhere by choice." His nose skimmed my neck and I relaxed at his touch.
"We'll see."
"Are you challenging me?" His hand skittered down my side and I stilled. How could he burn me with nothing more than his touch?
I reached out and curled my fingers in his soft hair. "I guess I am..."
He growled, his lips moving behind my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot. He moved back to cradle my face in his hands as he pressed his body against mine.
His tongue brushed my bottom lip and I let out a moan, wrapping my arms around him, bringing him closer. He grazed his teeth against the delicate skin of my lips and I felt my desire soar.
His hands moved to untie the laces and I stopped him.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. It's just been a very tiring day. You look exhausted. We've got plenty of time."
"I haven't had nightmares since you've entered my life," I looked at the silk sheets beneath us, my cheeks darkening to a red colour. "Until two days ago."
I raised his hand towards my mouth and placed a gentle kiss on his palm. "I'm not going anywhere."
He smiled, pulling the covers over us. I snuggled into the bed, placing my head on his chest, lining my body with his. He relaxed at the contact, his fingers playing with my hair as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
I gazed at his face, absent of all the pain he'd shown me minutes ago and my heart ached at the burden he carried. Giving him a final look, I closed my eyes and drifted off into the blissful dark.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, playing at the edges of my consciousness. Last nights events flashed through my mind and I chewed on the inside of my cheek, conflicting emotions running through me.
He had killed all those people, but in self defence. He'd been tricked, led to a trap, just like Baba had said.
Ali had been carrying the guilt of that event and had not bothered to move on. It went around with him, visible on the lines of his face, in his demeanour. He'd even been helping the refugees to ease the pain.
The truth was not as enlightening as I had hoped. Instead, it was desolate and ugly and cloaked in even more cruelty than I could have imagined. The Caliphate versus the rebels. What was I going to do? Could Mehmet do something this rash? Could he? Would I let him?
I wouldn't let him, that's for sure. He would never want to hurt me. For whatever it was worth, I was the one who held the key to solving this mess. And what about Ali? I couldn't imagine what I'd say to him. How would I even begin to explain?
I turned to look at my husband, who was thankfully, oblivious to the thoughts in my head.
He lay on his back, one arm resting on the pillow over his head, the other draped over my stomach. Long, dark lashes fringed his unmoving lids, his lips parted just slightly, his face content.
Before I could stop my hands, they reached for him, as though they existed for no other reason than to touch him. My fingers brushed across his jaw with a feather's caress before pulling away, as his eyes fluttered open.
I barely had time to register the fact that his eyes were now darkened with lust, when Ali grasped me around my waist and pulled me towards him, bruising my lips with his as he crashed our mouths together.
"Morning," he whispered against my mouth, his pupils dilated and his irises clouded with a haze of desire.
"How are you?"
"Better, now that you're here," he answered gruffly, his strong arms pulling me close to his hard and unyielding body.
Our mouths engulfed in a hungry embrace that was so much more than physical intimacy.
His hands moved over me, apologizing, soothing, and reassuring me of his presence.
Healing the fixtures of our relationship. Healing the hurt of the past two days. Of his promise to me.
Needing me, wanting me.
I clung to him desperately, hoping that he could feel me, that he could feel my emotions, praying this never ended. I let my hands wander, comforting him, memorizing him, letting him know that I was here, with him.
Slowly the kisses changed into something deeper, more primitive. Our movements became animalistic, spiralling out of control. His teeth scraped over my throat, my collarbones and then over the most sensitive places on my body, his finger slipping into me.
He sucked at my skin, tasting me as he thrusted deep into me, and I called out his name in a breathless whisper.
"Sit up."
"What?" I gasped, barely hearing him over the blood rushing in my ears.
I couldn't understand his meaning.
"On me," Ali groaned, moving slowly, his actions unhurried and languid. He lifted me up, easing me on to him, hissing at the feeling of my walls clenching around his.
I cried out at the fullness. "Move whenever you're ready."
He propped himself on the pillows, giving me full control, watching me, his eyes heavy with desire. I rocked my hips and he groaned, placing his hands behind his head. Every sensitive part of my body was stimulated to the point of insanity, throbbing and screaming with desire, aching for him.
I looked at my hands splayed on his stomach."Touch me," I whispered.
Ali's eyes darkened and he nodded. "Put your hands on me," I urged, forcing those large calloused hands to come and rest on my hips.
"God Laila, you're..." he moaned as I moved, trying to find the right pace. He pushed into me and I arched my back at the sensation, revelling at the feeling he'd incited.
"Enough," he cried out, switching places, his arms gently lifting me and placing me back on the bed. I barely had time to catch my breath before he raised one of my legs, placed it on his shoulder, and entered me in a single stroke.
The angle and the tilted position was driving my senses in an overdrive. I threaded my fingers in his hair, matching his passion with my own almost blind with arousal.
Everything dulled to a pinpoint.
I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, I couldn't even tell if I was breathing as the pressure reached a breaking point. Ali swooped to catch my lips with his, his tongue mimicking the action down below.
Too much. I was feeling too much.
I came in a violent crash, my cry silenced by his lips. Pleasure swept through me but he kept going, drawing out my release, making sure that I rode that wave.
He came just minutes after me, his body shuddering, his lips near my ear, breathing out a single word. "Mine."
************
There's nothing left to say.