Thank you for this beautiful cover calsaddiction

Are you ready? 

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**I found my fate the first time I looked into your eyes**

Shoug shivered as the cold seeped through the thick quilt. With a shudder, she rolled to her right side, and the back of her right hand brushed against something. With a slow and gentle movement, she blinked away the remnants of sleep, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings. Shoug opened her eyes, and in doing so, her eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

In the dimly lit tent, soft light filtered with the help of the fire, casting a gentle glow. The air was still, filled with a quiet tranquility that enveloped the tent like a comforting embrace. As Shoug's eyes adjusted to the faint light, she stared at the man peacefully nestled amidst the folds of the bedding. Badr.

Badr was sleeping!

Shoug peered at her spouse. His features now softened in the light, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm of deep, steady breaths. He was at last tranquil. Shoug knew he had not rested well ever since she joined this journey, and to see him rest next to her, a tender smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she watched him sleep, a rush of warmth flooding her heart. He did not abandon her.

His right hand rested over his heart, and his left hand had brushed against Shoug's hand. The space between them was enough for Badr to rest his left hand there. His hair brushed against his shoulders, with only a thin quilt over his feet.

He must be cold.

Shoug gently rose into a sitting position; in doing so, her braid fell over her right shoulder, falling over her midriff. With her left hand, she grabbed her quilt, intending to drape the other half over Badr. However, she came to a halt, and a silent gasp hissed passed her lips. Shoug's head shot down towards her right hand, only to see long, lean fingers wrap around them.

Her wide eyes shot to Badr, but he was still fast asleep. Gulping hard, Shoug looked down at their entwined hands. Her eyes traced the contours of his hand, strong and lean. Each tendon and vein stood out subtly under his sun-kissed skin, telling tales of strength she had witnessed. Shoug marveled at how his fingers- so powerful- held her hand with a gentle hold.

The intimacy of this simple gesture was overwhelming, filling her with an emotion words could not explain. Shoug closed her eyes and bit her lip. Will she ever savor his touch? Her heart only beat to avenge Gaith, but then why did the hushed promise held within his touch tug at her deceased heart?

Her eyes prickled, and tears coated the rims. With a harsh swallow, Shoug gently removed her fingers from Badr's hold. Biting her lip, she draped her quilt over him, then rose to her feet, unable to bear his closeness.

She needed to leave.

Grabbing her scarf, she wrapped it around her head and made to leave the tent. As soon as Shoug was outside, she stopped. The sky was dark, no lanterns or fire was burning nearby, and this was not her tribe. Where would she go? She took a shuddering breath and wrapped her hands around herself, allowing the cold to claw at her skin.

The wind caressed her cheeks, twirling the strand of her hair that had fallen on her left cheek. The desert was alive with the whispers of the night. Every rustle and snap of twigs brought peace to her. Suddenly, two large glowing orbs suspended in the inky blackness turned to look at the lonely bride. After a moment, the owl hooted, taking its flight, leaving her alone.

"Shoug." A remarkably soft voice called, followed by the sound of the tent's flap pushed to the side, and a moment later, Badr's massive form stood next to her.

They stood there, side-by-side in the dark, under the starry night. Shoug did not know if she could speak, her feelings brimming to her throat, and they burned. Shoug bowed her head and permitted herself to study him from the corner of her eyes.

Despite the darkness, Shoug noticed every detail of him, how Badr's strong hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend her at any moment. His presence exuded a commanding power, but there was also a gentle protectiveness from how he stood close to her, ensuring her safety with his very being.

She should not be studying him. Their matrimony was merely to avenge Gaith. Her heart beat so she could drench her hands in blood. Shoug bit her lip and looked away.

She was his spouse; there was no denying it. She could not flee from that reality, but her heart belonged to Gaith, the merchant who caused her to blossom with his poetry and gentleness.

Shoug did not want to stand beside him; just as she made to return inside the tent, his voice halted her movements.

"We have another hour or so from Fajr," Badr murmured, and somehow Shoug knew that he was aware of her feelings, that he could see the tremble of her fragile shoulders in the dark.

He was indeed the Eagle of knights.

Had he been awake when his hand held hers, or had he awoke when she pulled her hand from his?

Clearing her throat, she whispered back. "I could not sleep."

As her eyes adjusted more to the darkness, Shoug could make out the slight nod of his head. "Were you cold?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. He was sleeping with a thin quilt, yet Badr asked if she was cold. Why was this man so selfless?

An intense humiliation and despair surged within her, and Shoug turned to her right to face him. With a deep frown on her beautiful face, Shoug looked up at him. "You slept without a quilt, Badr. You were cold," Swallowing Shoug shook her head." Do not, I beg of you, do not give me so much that I drown. My feet cannot walk on that path. I have set burning coals around me. Your benevolence will burn me, and I will take you with me."

Her chest rose and fell from the emotions whizzing within her. Shoug watched as Badr looked down at her. They stood there for a long moment, and then she watched as a small smile appeared on the right side of his lips, and her frown deepened.

His eyes on Shoug, Badr tilted his head to the side; the movement caused his shoulder-length hair to swing against his left shoulder. "This is the least I can do for you, ya Shoug." Badr took a step forward. "You must not let it burden you when I worry about your well-being."

Shoug swallowed. "But you did not have a quilt. You mustn't be this noble, ya Badr."

Another smile, however, in this one, Shoug could see distress, and it did something to her heart, something she could not explain. Words were failing her today.

"Bint-ash-sheikh, the chilly wind does not affect me; life has long gone wrung my heart into stone." Shoug shook her head, but Badr kept going on. "Allow me these moments to protect you as your spouse."

At Badr's words, Shoug's heart skipped a beat, and then it commenced to thud drastically, and she had to clench her fists in fear that he may hear her heart.

"You have protected me ever since I demanded to accompany you on this treacherous journey."

Badr nodded. "I am trying, but my endeavors are falling short compared to the duties of a spouse. I can never provide you with a house or a comfortable bed to rest in. Shoug, you did not even get to," he paused, his serene yet troubled eyes dropped to her clenched fists. "You could not even decorate your hands with henna. So, when I ask Shoug: if you are cold, allow my heart to rest in peace, knowing that I can at least keep you warm in this harsh weather.

His voice was so gentle and soft that a tear trickled down Shoug's right eye. It was then she saw him for the first time. Shoug recalled who this man was, and grief clutched her heart, ripping it inside her bosom.

The man Shoug had once wished to pair with.

As soon as the notion crossed her mind, Shoug swallowed. Their matrimony did not feel right; she took advantage of him in taking revenge: and Badr, why did he consent to pair with her?

"If you wish to shield me against the harsh cold, you must permit me to protect you as well. I have done nothing to repay your generosity, and you, as my spouse, must grant me my wish." Shoug watched Badr take a deep breath, then his right hand came up to her cheek, and with his thumb, he wiped her tear.

"If that makes you happy, then be my shield. By Allah, ya Shoug, request whatever you may, and I shall wander to the end of the world to gift it to you, for I have looted the bloom of henna from your hand, the duff of your wedding. The more you demand, the more peaceful my searing heart becomes."

A sob hissed past her lips at his words. Ya Allah! What had happened to him to make him this selfless? Why was a desirous woman like her paired with a selfless person like Badr, whose worry in these impending times was Shoug's happiness, her comfort?

"Do not complain when I demand the moon from you, ya Badr." She attempted to jest with a broken smile.

"I would have to battle the stars, for they protect the moon." He jested, smiling back at her, the corner of her eyes crinkling.

"Well, you must put a great battle, for I shall demand the moon from you." She smiled.

His smile widened in return. At this sight, the wind took its flight, fleeing toward the moon, unable to bear the beauty of Badr's smile and the tenderness his eyes held for his spouse.

**

Shoug sat cross feet next to the fire in the tent, stitching the side of Badr's thobe just as the morning sun rose above tree trunks. She looked up from her work just when a voice sounded: and Khadeja walked into their temporary tent.

The women looked at what Shoug was doing and smiled. "Where is the owner of the thobe you are sewing?"

A slight trickle of blood burned Shoug's cheeks. "Badr had to see his knights."

"He came to me when I was preparing the brazier for my son."

Shoug frowned.

Khadeeja laughed at Shoug's bewildered expression.

"Badr had a request." Khadeeja sat in front of Shoug and held her palms, causing her to let go of Badr's thobe. "He requested if I could adorn your hands with henna."

Shoug blinked slowly, permitting her brain to register Khadeeja's words. "Why would he request that?" She already knew the response to that.

"Badr stated that a new bride must always have henna on her hands."

Shoug looked down at her hands and her fingers swallowing. The last henna she had was for Gaith, and she never imagined she would put henna for someone other than him. Just as she opened her mouth to reply, her gaze moved to the thobe she had been stitching.

Before leaving to see his knights, Badr had handed her this thobe and demanded for the first time to do him a wifely favor. His voice had been gentle, so delicate that Shoug felt he was almost bashful requesting it.

She looked up at Khadeeja. "I would very much love that. You have my gratitude," And smiled.

After a while, Khadeeja's daughter came into the tent with a pitcher and a small copper bowl with henna. The henna Shoug knew was left to sit, covered by a cloth, allowing the dye to develop and deepen. The mixture is passed down from generation to generation. Khadeeja took the bowl from her daughter and grinned at Shoug.

"Bismillah, let us begin," she removed the cloth and swiped her index finger into the henna. Her left hand held Shoug's right palm up, facing the tent ceiling. The scent of the henna began to fill the air, a smell unlike any other—a blend of the earth and the sun, with a hint of something almost spicy. It reminded Shoug of the warm summer days spent playing in the fields, the soil beneath her feet, and the fragrant herbs that grew wild along the edges of her tribe paths.

Shoug smiled when the cool henna touched the heart of her palm. Memories of the last time she applied henna flashed before her eyes; however, she pushed them aside. If Badr wished to gift her colorful hands, then she would accede to Badr's wish with open palms.

The henna paste was rich and earthy, a deep greenish-brown, made from the leaves of the henna plant that had dried, grounded, and mixed with water, a touch of lemon juice, and a dash of oil.

When Khadeeja finished, Shoug held her palms to the light, admiring the intricate work. The henna was still drying, its scent stronger now, almost heady, filling the warm morning air. And as Shoug looked at her hands, she knew that every time she smelled henna, she would remember this moment—sitting in this tent, applying henna in Badr's name.

Khadija's daughter giggled. Shoug looked at her. "I am certain your spouse will be happy."

Shoug gave her a small smile, not knowing what to reply.

"You must let the henna dry thoroughly, then come break your fast." Khadeeja took the bowl and left the pitcher for Shoug to wash her hands. Shoug stood just as the mother and daughter left the tent, leaving Shoug alone with her thoughts and the scent of henna.

**

Shoug walked to where Khadeeja had guided her, where Badr was. Her gaze fell on the copper tray with yogurt and two tortillas, then moved to the bright orange henna. The bright orange had softened into a warm, glowing amber, still fresh and new. The lines were crisp, yet the color was light, almost translucent as if the henna were whispering its beauty rather than shouting it. The henna stain was not yet at its peak, and Shouq knew that as the hours passed, the color would deepen, growing more intense.

She smiled. The henna was the first favor Shoug gifted Badr.

The walk from the open cookery to Badr's tent was not of great distance. He had retreated to the tent at the mouth of this tribe right after Fajr and Shoug had not seen him since.

A shiver trickled down her spine, and her body trembled. The cold bit at her fingers, and she worried the tortillas might get cold before reaching Badr. The wind chuckled at her. It knew the shiver was not due to the cold; it was the anticipation of Badr witnessing her henna, so it pursued the Borkan, tiptoeing right behind her like a child.

The late morning sun beamed at Shoug as she neared the open tent. It was a small tent barely accommodating two people, and Shoug knew this was for the guards at the mouth of this tribe, and Badr had been there with his knights since Fajr.

"Salamu Alikum," Shoug announced her arrival. Her voice was a bit rough. If anyone was with Badr, she did not wish to display weakness.

"Wa alikum as salam, Shoug." Badr's response came, and his form materialized after a second. He did not ask a question but tilted his body to the side, allowing Shoug to enter. Shoug knew he was unattended; otherwise, Badr wouldn't have permitted her to join him; he would come to her.

Shoug walked in and blinked twice. The open tent was small, and she wondered how Badr would stand without bending low. She looked over in time to see Badr lower his head to avoid hitting the oil lantern hanging from the ceiling.

"I have brought you repast to break your fast." Shoug gently moved the tray towards him.

She watched as his gaze lowered to the tray, and Shoug could have sworn his eyes widened a bit. If she weren't already looking at him, Shoug would have missed the movement.

Her henna.

He took a step forward, then took the tray from her. "You have my gratitude, ya Shoug." He sat the tray next to a small, broken brazier, the coals almost ash now.

Badr faced her again. Shoug had to tilt her head back to look into his magnificent eyes. She watched, muted, as the knight before her took another step so close that his thobe brushed against her scarf that hung over her midriff.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips when Badr held her hands in his and brought them up in the space between them. Shoug felt goose flesh prickle her scalp down to her toes. Her heart lulled, then commenced to beat at a harmful pace.

He watched her just as Shoug gaped at him with wide, bewildered eyes. Badr dropped his gaze to her upturned palms, cradled in his hands. "Forgive me." He breathed, and his action next caused her to tremble, and Shoug bit her lip.

Time raised its quill just as Badr brought Shoug's palms up and lowered his face into them. Shoug stood motionless, her form coiling into an invisible statue. She was utterly astonished, beyond belief. Badr was the man who never willingly displayed his emotions or verbalized his feelings. However, the raw yearning in his eyes had left her speechless.

His display of emotions was such a rarity that Shoug burned to understand what had been the ground behind them.

The wind noticed how tenderly Badr held Shoug's hands as if they were the most delicate treasures in the world. It took note of the man savoring the scent of the henna as if it gave him strength. The wind paused, holding its breath. It had witnessed endless journeys—storms brewing over vast oceans and even the joy of children chasing after it in open fields—but this was different. There was something in the way the Badr acted. It made the wind feel a sense of stillness, a quiet curiosity the wind rarely encountered.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Shoug, Badr lifted his face from her palms. In doing so, his beard tickled the tips of her fingers, and they twitched. Shoug could not speak; she did not know what to utter.

Badr stood to his full height, his hands still holding hers. "Forgive me for acting in such an outlandish manner. It is just," he paused, looking at her hands again. "The scent of your henna brought back countless memories."

Shoug could not speak, so she nodded.

Badr let go of her left hand, but the other was still in his. "I have yearned for this scent. Before father's," he paused, swallowed. "Before his death, there was not a day that passed by where mother did not have henna on her hands. I grew up with the scent of henna, and I, ya Shoug, needed to experience it again—my mother's scent."

Tears prickled the corners of her eyes, but instead, Shoug beamed. "I am honored to provide you with such a comforting reminder, ya Badr."

Badr gently let go of Shoug's other hand and took a step back, and finally, Shoug could breathe. "Come, join me for the repast." He lowered to the palm mat and crossed his feet, his thobe wrapping around him.

"Khadeeja made sure I broke my fast before bringing you the food." However, she sat before her spouse and watched as he tore a piece of tortilla and dipped it in the yogurt.

"She is wise." He chewed slowly.

Shoug interwind her fingers and placed them on her lap. She then took in Badr's thobe, his sleeves curled up to his elbows. "You will catch a cold, ya Badr. The cold is brutal."

The corner of his eyes crinkled. "By Allah, I am fine. Do not fret. The cold soothes me."

She frowned. There was no winning.

Shoug looked around as Badr ate. He was silent, almost like he wasn't in the tent with her. "I do not see your knights."

"Ah, they have been instructed to reconnoiter the desert for information."

Shoug nodded, and Badr noshed his repast in silence.

"Have you decided how long we shall stay in this tribe?"

Badr licked the yogurt from the corner of his bottom lip. "I do understand that my knights cannot stay here for long. We shall stay for three more nights until my knights have gathered some information."

"That will provide me enough time to sew some jalabiyas."

"Fret not about the coins. I shall pay for it. You can request Khadeeja for whatever you may wish for."

"And what about your clothes? You ponder, I did not notice that you only have four thobes."

Badr looked at her as if he was shocked. Was he astounded she noticed his surroundings?

She felt proud that such small gestures from her provided Badr with such comfort. She has oathed to protect and shield him, and if adorning her hands with henna was a way of shielding Badr from his sorrow, she would not allow a day to pass by without henna.

She must request Khadeeja for henna leaves.

And with that trail of thoughts, Shoug had unknowingly unbolted yet another door for the man before her.

"Yes, I do have four thobes. I believe they are enough for a man traveling these barren lands."

"Then it is the same for the woman who travels with you. I must not request a new jalabiya then." She lifted her chin in defiance.

Badr smiled, then shook his head. "Do as you desire. I have promised you the moon a thobe is nothing in comparison."

Smiling back, Shoug felt a weight lift on her shoulders. Finally, she will return the favor he bestowed upon her, small as they may be.

**

The sky had turned dark when Badr's knights returned from their journey. He waited outside the open tent by the mouth of the tribe, where a few hours ago, Shoug had accompanied him. The knights sat right outside the tent, a fire blazing in the middle of the circle formed by them, each armed.

The crickets chirped, but silence lingered in the air when one of the knights moved, and after a few moments, the chirping would commence again.

Badr stared at the flames lapping up at the night sky. The orange glow of it reminded him of Shoug's henna, and an almost invisible smile teased the corner of his mouth.

He had requested Khadeeja to allow Shoug the beauty of being a new bride; however, Badr did not comprehend when he saw her hands. The scent of the henna brought back the memories of his mother; however, the moment he concealed his face in her hands, all the emotions Badr held at bay rushed to his heart like a dangerous torrent.

It had worried him, which is why Badr had remained in that stance for a long while. It took all his might to repress his emotions because, at that moment, Shoug and her presence were all he could think and feel. His feelings for the Borkan troubled him. Indeed, Shoug was the woman he desired to pair with, but what he felt back then almost felt like madness.

Ya Allah!

"There has been some movement in the south. What do you suggest we do next, ya Badr?" Jabbir asked. Jabbir frowned when their leader did not respond, his eyes on the flames. "Badr, is everything alright?"

Badr tore his gaze from the flames and looked over at Jabbir. "Yes. I was merely considering what move we must take. The wolf pack is behind us, and Harib is before us. I cannot permit Shoug to travel in such dangerous circumstances."

The men around the fire glanced at each other. Badr knew they were confused at their leader's trail of thoughts. "What do you suggest then, ya Badr?" Omar asked, almost as if taunting him like he knew Badr's suggestion yet wanted to hear it from him.

"Shoug must remain in the tribe until at least one of our trials is solved."

Jabbir moved his body towards Badr and frowned deeply. "You wish to leave your spouse here unattended?"

"She is safer here than with me," Badr responded, eyes moving from one man to another, challenging them to interject.

"Faris will have your head." Omar chuckled.

"He will do no such thing. His sibling is my spouse, and I know what is best for her safety." Badr's voice was rough, almost like the cold winter air that seeped into one's bones and chilled them to the core.

Omar pursed his lips and gave a nod. "Anything that makes my journey to my vengeance more effortless, I shall receive it with open arms."

"Have you discussed it with Shoug?" Khalfan asked.

Badr inhaled, then shook his head. "I shall once the sun peaks over the mountain."

"We resume our voyage tomorrow?" Dhiyab questioned in a silent voice, barely audible over the flames.

"In Sha Allah," Badr responded, wondering how he would convince the woman who left everything behind to accompany him on this journey to stay behind and permit him to voyage for her revenge.

Ya Allah!

***

This chapter was something that even made me giggle :P