I sat staring up at a sea of winking stars across the soft indigo sky, a million questions zipping through my mind. Since their secret was out and I had no where to go, Haleema had untied my hands, secure in the knowledge that I had no way to communicate to anyone outside this rudimentary camp. Now I sat alone, my fingers rolling over the Seljuk coat of arms, remembering the times I had played with it when I was child, my fingers pressing it into Mother's flesh, asking if it had hurt.

After much thought and contemplation, of three things, I was most definitely sure.

This arrow was definitely Ali's. Haleema's description of that night matched his. And that I now owned my family crest.

Tears trickled down my stained cheeks, my fingers digging into the sand, the cursed arrow lying besides me.

"Food," think of the devil and the devil appeared. I stared at the sadly crafted tray in front of me.

Haleema stood suspended in the moment until I patted the sand beside me. She sat down, her posture straight, her eyes focused on mine. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

"Why?" I blurted out, not bothering with the formalities. "Why did she leave us? Why did she leave her family? Her only child?"

"Eat." I glared at her. "Eat before you faint. Good luck getting your answers then," she smiled as I tore a chunk off. "Your mother was very disturbed when she and her family were chased out of their ancestral home by your husband's grandfather. She blamed him for their loss of power, wealth and status. A true blooded princess reduced to rags, she used to say."

Haleema sighed in despair as she watched a beam of starlight dart across a corner of darkest blue.

"It may seem inconsequential to you but imagine being driven out by occupying forces to face an uncertain life. She planned her revenge from the start. She knew who she was. A beautiful face with a cunning mind. I was a child when she took me in her care," she continued, studying the infinite grains of sand as they slid around her toes.  "I saw her go through so many complex emotions at your birth. She was overjoyed."

Haleema twisted her fingers together. "But she'd planned for years. She got married to your father because he was madly in love with her, of a good lineage and in a position of power. Then there was Mehmet," Mehmet. I had not even thought of him. Of how this would affect him. "She planned your engagement with him, making sure to have you placed at your rightful place."

Baba's words came to mind, 'The answer you seek has destroyed men more powerful than the ones in this palace'

Power. He had been talking about power.

"But Baba..."

"Your Baba isn't a simple man. He's very sly. Rightly so. He protected you. He protected your future," her lips twisted bitterly. "Mehmet could give you nothing, no future, no titles. You would have been no one, just like your mother had feared."

"And you? What do you gain by telling me all of this?"

She smiled, "Vindication. Revenge. The continuation of your Mother's legacy. My son died here. You will never know the pain of losing a child and I hope you never do. I came to Cairo to fulfill your Mother's dream."

"To destroy the Caliphate?"

She shook her head. "To be close to you. To guide you. To be a spy for you. Your marriage to the Prince was a complication. You have no idea what I've done to make sure that you're the most powerful player in this nasty game."

A shiver danced across my shoulders. "What game?"

"Mehmet will get his army from the Caliph but at what cost? And what about all of the refugees in Cairo? Where do they go? And the lands the Caliphate took all those years ago, your ancestral home? It's quite an extensive list. There is so much that needs to be done-"

A loud shout cut her off.

We scrambled to our feet, running towards the tents. Camels and horses descended from all sides, surrounding the camp. I paused to stare at the sight before me. Men of both Egyptian and Turkish descent flooded the sands, searching for someone.

For me.

I inched closer to the crowd, fear and trepidation making my heart beat faster my eyes catching on a familiar sight.

Ali marched towards the main tent, Zulfiqar held ready, his eyes blazing in the firelight. A man was pushed in front of him, his face bloody and bruised, his eyes filled with hatred. Before I could blink, Ali raised Zulfiqar to deliver the killing blow.

"No. Stop!" I screamed. He held back at the last second, his eyes flickering towards me. "No more. Enough!"

"Are you okay?" Mehmet asked, appearing by my side, his gaze thunderous. "Why are you protecting this traitor?" I turned to look at the man in question and almost didn't recognize Seif's swollen face. His right eye sported a vicious cut and he bled profusely from his neck.

"He's going to pass out," I called out, my voice flat and devoid of any emotion.

"This isn't a time to feel magnanimous. He disobeyed orders, kidnapped you, ruined discipline..."

"Let him go," My words were directed at Ali.

He stepped back, his face revealing nothing. He continued haunting me . . . watching, waiting.

Knowing.

Afraid?

"In the tent, and bring Haleema with you," I ordered and swept by the two man. As I walked passed him, I saw Ali's eyes flicker with a single emotion.

Fear.

"Thank God she's your headache and not mine," Mehmet muttered to Ali shooting me a death glare. Ali didn't reply, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

I waited for them to convene inside the tent, and stared each of them in the eye. My throat dried up and I was unable to force the words out of my mouth, so I showed them the single arrow and the crest.

Mehmet stared at me, a cacophony of emotions swirling over his face.

Confusion, recognition, anger.

But Ali's reaction shook me to the core.

Fear mixed with realization flared over his features.

He knew what this was.

Who I was referring to.

"What is this Laila? Why do you have Auntie's-" Mehmet's voice broke and he strode forward to grab the crest from my fingers. Feeling the almost rotten skin on it, he surged back, his face twisting with disgust. "Will someone tell me what's going on?"

"Haleema," I whispered and she began with her story.

The sound of Mehmet's anguish spiraled up into a desert night, across a vast spread of tiny stars.

Through my very skin.

There was far too much anger in the air. Far too much hatred. Such emotions made it difficult to think rationally.

Without a word, I took his hand and led him into the desert, far beyond the enclave of tents. When I finally turned to face him, Mehmet appeared to have aged a decade in a matter of moments.

We sat together, staring at each other across a small sea of glittering sand. Across years of friendship and trust.

"What are you going to do?" Mehmet asked, not meeting my eyes as he posed the quiet question.

For a time, I was unsure how to respond."The same thing I asked you to do all those weeks ago."

"And you? What about you?"

"I'm not thinking about myself right now. Our duty will always be to our people. That's what you need to realize Mehmet. Mother-" I choked back a sob. "She made her choice. I do not want to speak ill of the dead but what she did was selfish. So many have died in this senseless violence. Don't let this continue. You have the power to change this. We have to make our choice. Make peace or pursue war."

"We found you because of Afet. She knew who Haleema was. She can not go unpunished Laila. Order should always prevail," His fingers curled within his gloves, grinding the silt against his skin. "Whatever her reasons were, they do not justify her actions of kidnapping a princess and instigating violence. Now that we know about her crimes, it's best to cut this snake off from the head."

"What if you have more heads? What will you do then?"

He stood up, his face grim. "That's what you'll help prevent."

Mehmet escorted me back to the main tent, his silence telling. Whatever had happened during my absence had solidified the uneasy alliance between my husband and my cousin. I had half expected Mehmet to march into the tent demanding for Ali's heart, but he'd done and said no such thing. On the contrary, he'd bowed his head, and had given me a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Will miracles never cease.

I pulled the flap aside and stepped in, my heart stuck in my throat.

"I've put you in an impossible situation," he began, his back to me. His pain combined with mine was tearing me apart. I knew what he'd done, why he'd done it. I knew my Mother was wrong, but she had been my Mother. My father and I had suffered because of her choices, because of what Ali's grandfather had done.

I was paying twicefold for a crime I did not commit.

"Ali," I reached for him not understanding my need, just wanting him. "I—"

He turned around and the words died on my lips.

In his right hand was a dagger.

I backed away in horror.

He appeared to be arranging his words before speaking. "What I did, what happened, was out of principle, and not a day goes by that I don't regret that decision with every fiber of my being. Knowing that my past decision has hurt you, believe me Laila, it's tearing me apart," his eyes found mine and held them, fierce in their conviction. My heart careened about in my chest, and I felt my knees start to give.

Confusion overrode my panic. "I don't—"

"Here," he unsheathed the dagger and handed it to me. I shook my head, continuing to back away.

"Take it," he pressed the hilt into my palm.

"I don't understand."

"I'm your culprit," Ali spoke in a voice barely over a whisper. "You should be my executioner."

I clenched the hilt of the dagger, my brow lined, and my heart thundering in my chest—

And then Ali sank to his knees before me.

All the air left my body in a single rush of comprehension. I swayed unsteady on my feet before I fell to the floor with the dagger's hilt clutched tight in my hand.

"Get up," he said quietly. "Get up wife, you do not bow to anyone, least off all me," he said.

My chest heaved.

The memories of our first night rendered me immobile. I released a choked sob, and Ali grabbed me by the arms.

"Get up," his tone was gentle but firm. A gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

Lie. Lie to him.

I shook my head, staving off the tears. He shook me harder and my grip on the dagger loosened.

"Do it," Ali pressed his lips into a thin line. The muscles in his neck leapt out as he swallowed hard. I swallowed, steeling myself, searching for a thread of hate, for a dam of rage, for . . . anything.

Ali stayed resolute in his course. "I took her from you. Nothing I do, nothing I say will ever fix what I've done. If there has to be a choice between us, there isn't one to make. Not for me."

"And you expect me to make this choice?" I demanded. "You may be many things Ali but you are not a coward," My hold on the dagger was gone. It thumped to the floor.

"This isn't cowardance. I'm giving my life to the one I love the most," I brought my palms to his chest.

"And you expect me to take it?" I curled my fingers into the front of his qamis. "You honestly believe I could do this?" he nodded once, his eyes ablaze. "I would sooner cut out my own heart."

He stared back, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "How could you forgive me?"

"I haven't," he clenched his fists and twisted back into the darkness.

"Then why?" I rose to my knees and braced my palm against his chest.

"Hate. Judgment. Retribution. Revenge. They will never replace what I have lost. What we have lost. We have to think beyond ourselves. I don't know if I can forgive you, but all we have is now. And our promise to make it better."

********************************************

Thoughts? Should she forgive him? Or let him go?