Ruqayya stood in her doorway, surveying the curiously silent state of the city as night descended upon them all.
The Muslims had just completed their sunset prayers in the mosque some minutes prior. A stray dog puffed past, but she paid it no heed.
Sarh fled the province once word of 'Uthman's murder was received, as she'd expected. She prayed to the Virgin he would succumb to the journey before he found refuge in Mu'awiyah's court. That would be one loose thread dealt with.
She remarked over how smoothly her plans came into fruition. How each step served its purpose flawlessly, coalescing in the end to form one great masterpiece.
She sighed, thinking how great a shame it was no one would ever discover any of it. No one would ever marvel at her craftiness. Her sheer willpower. Her puppeteering, even from miles away. How she wove the fate of men and empires alike with one command.
But she supposed it would be her head if anyone caught wind of the true weight of her actions. It was the way it was, she supposed.
Ruqayya was more concerned with Sofia for the time being, however. Her Roman slave. She had been out all day running Ruqayya's enterprise for her. She should be returning now to brief her on the day's bearings.
Ruqayya resented how she yearned for the Roman girl's presence. How she forced her to remain vigilant in the threshold for hours, praying for her safe return with a fluttering heart. It was unbecoming. Caring for a slave. Caring for anyone. All it ever brought was suffering and heartache.
She sighed, turning around. To find herself staring right back at her.
Ruqayya gasped, nearly slipping off her feet as she took several rapid steps backward.
The woman was a picture-perfect reflection of her. Fair-skinned with cascading brown curls. Raven-like dark eyes complimented by her stark black clothing. Tight black trousers like those of a man. A dark shawl over a dark cloak, shadowing a coat of the same hue.
"Who – " Ruqayya stuttered. "What are you doing here? What is it that you want? Who are you?"
The woman only smiled. A shiver ran down Ruqayya's spine. Was that warmth that radiated from the other woman? Why did she feel so familiar?
"Who am I?" the woman mirrored her question as well as she mirrored Ruqayya herself. "They called me many things in my past life as well as this one. Today, I am the Canary. But you may be more familiar with the woman I used to be. Sumayya bint Ka'b. Your mother."