The turbulent waves that were about to crash through the walls of Baghdad, would not only upheaval the citadel at the centre, but were also set to destroy the very foundation of the large empire. Glory with its sharp splinters had managed to pierce the slick skins. Pride had infused itself in the soft veins. Hatred had taken root in the cardiac muscles. Anger and anguish, the want to be at top had maimed the soul completely. It was to throw off the entire monarchy of Persia, the revelations were cruel and cold — murder etched in their very being.

While the weather had attained some calmness, with the harsh winds finally trapped amongst the tall tree branches and no longer causing destruction amongst the people, life was returning to normalcy. The warriors had been given an extra week off, their fatigued muscles required that. The sunshine caressed their bare backs, it's bright gold stuck to the battle wounds. Their skins gained back the color of life that had been lost in the battle against Loh — humanity once again flooded into their beings. Men in groups of four and five thronged to meet these new heroes, tough handshakes were exchanged with harsh kisses on the cheeks.

Everyone began to find a routine in the times that were anything but. They had lost their king, forced to abandon him on the tapered ends of their empire. The guilt of which would forever wrap them in its thick velvet cloak. For the first time in the rich history of Persia, a female ruler sat upon the throne. She had eyes as sharp as a hawk, a stride as prideful as the Arabian horses they bred and her beauty was limitless. A handful of kings and former friends had paid their allegiance to her already, in person or via extravagant expeditions sent to her. Now rumors flooded through the busy streets of Baghdad about Queen Alishba's harem.

When Fadahunsi first managed to hear these rumors fury unlike any other had taken control of him. The mark upon his sister's innocence was like a sharp arrow piercing his heart. He had taken it upon himself to avenge her, rushing through inns with a sword in hand — warning them. However, Alishba had him suspended after hearing that. Idle gossip was a part of a common man's life, if they took that away they would find truth in it and rebel. He had not gone into seclusion without fight, he had written to their brother's — in secrecy as they were still at the palace, preparing for a royal feast.

Sitting in the garden of his home, Fadahunsi chewed on a piece of baked dough, dipped in honey. The sweetness from the honey and flakiness of the dough filled his senses. His eyes found the large, awkwardly cut pieces cute and the flavor of cardamom and chopped nuts that crunched under his mortars, better than anything he had ever tasted. Samra had found an interest in learning the in's and out's of Persian cuisine. He had decided to humor her, it was better she stay inside the home than to have her hunched over their garden whilst she was pregnant.

He sighed in pleasure, a cup of steaming hot kehva rested beside him, the bright sun warmed the bones of his body and Samra's soft hands brushed through his overgrown hair. It was the last day of his confinement and she had asked him to let her braid his hair, which he had no troubles with. Her satin dress occasionally brushed the profound muscles of his back, the thick bangles that dangled from her hands grazed the shell of his ear. He could almost imagine her scent as a person in front of him.

"Fadahunsi?" She whispered.

While they were still in their home, Samra knew they could never be cautious enough. Anyone could turn out to be a spy, and so she had to make do with the rules he had explained to her the day after their wedding. She had squinted her eyes to catch a closer look at his face, the sunlight blinding her with it's brightness. Samra was enjoying the way the three strand braid sat on the crown of his face, like an almost proper crown she giggled to herself. He hummed in reply, eyes still closed relishing the sun's heat.

"Why don't I ever see you practicing with your sword?" She asked with genuine enthusiasm.

"A man's real strength lays in the unknown," he smiled, his cheeks sinking in.

Samra poked the dimple on his face, stifling the sound of her laughter as she watched the skin retreat. Fadahunsi too seemed to be enjoying her innocent caresses for he took her hand in his and kissed the finger that had poked him. Only she had the right to. In this vast world, where knowledge and human life were ceaseless, she was the only with all the rights.

"I don't get it!" She huffed.

"It means that practicing would hinder my skill. It would restrict me to the rules of known, thus taking away my power to think. So I must not practice it," he elaborated.

Samra nodded thoughtfully. It made sense — only a little — but it did. Not wanting to bother his time of peace anymore, she turned her attention back to his hair. He had coarse hair strands, they were finer than she had ever seen. His scalp was tanned like the rest of his body. While most his hair was dark like a raven, some of it had turned a shade of brown with caramel highlights running through them. The sun had done that, and Samra wished the sun would do that to her hair too for it was a beautiful sight. She dragged her fingers across the marks on his back, speaking before even thinking anything through.

"Could you tell me how you got these scars?" Her voice was little, and she sounded like a scared child.

"I am not fond of that story but you deserve to know everything, humdum," he took a deep breath, before continuing, "when I was barely through the seventh summer of my life, my father took me on an expedition. I was kidnapped by a few men — the orders of a noble prince. He had me beaten with a thick leather whip, sharp pieces of metal attached to its ends".

Samra gulped. Her heart had stilled, her lungs punched as air rushed out of them. She could not begin to imagine his pain, or how he managed to relive that incident. Only in silence, she could offer him her support. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his back she peppered kisses along his crooked skin. Wet tears marking his skin as she felt his pain for him. As she mourned his hurt for him.

"It was your uncle. My grandfather forgave him but my father waited for the perfect moment to seek his revenge. Yet once more he lost and King Zaid managed to win". He chuckled humorlessly.

"So—so do you hate me?" She questioned, fearing his reply.

"My body is made up of millions of atoms. In each there is no nucleus but instead, only your essence," he replied.

⚜️⚜️⚜️

Samra stared at the large banquet hall in complete awe. Her brown eyes were brimmed with excitement, drenched in wonder as she walked in with Fadahunsi by her side. Her dark skin stood out against the white marble interior, the light gold color of her dress brought out the cool undertones to top. The dress brushed the thick fur carpets, the taupe colored Persian rugs were hidden under the grandeur of it. The anarkali, a flowing frock that puffed out at the waist whilst hugged her upper body was covered in silver zardosi and white as well as maroon beads. It formed a pattern like those on the walls of her maternal home. The same geometric arches covered the border. The dress was made of fine silk and an expensive veil made of the finest organza rested on her head. It was covered in small maroon flowers with star shaped petals and white beads in the middle. Large arched earrings of pearls and gold pulled her earlobe with their weight.

General Fadahunsi walked by her side. His thick bicep brushed her arm every few second. He wore a kaftan in the color similar to Samra's dress. A maroon belt on his waist helped keep the bejeweled sword in place. His beard and hair had been oiled lightly with fragrant oil, a thick gold band rested on his left ring finger — it was his pride. He nodded at the passerby's, servants that rushed in and out of the room, already serving the guests with coarse chickpea hummus.

"This is your seat Samra. I shall join you and our prince in a few minutes," he kissed her forehead.

He had already checked their surroundings, no one except for his siblings were inside the hall. They were safe, for now. Gold candelabra's housed tens of candles on each of their stems, the large glass chandelier with thick candle stubs illuminated the room. His large palm rested on the soft bulge, hidden under the folds of her dress as he parted from her. Given her status, Samra was seated at the seat beside the head of the table. She eyed the fine wooden table, a royal blue muslin cloth with gold detailings rested on top. Fine porcelain dishes in front of each chair. She sighed as her back made contact with the soft cushion of the chair, the muscle there finally relaxing.

Fadahunsi joined his siblings at the head of the room, standing with his shoulders pushed back as they waited for the guests to pour in. Ambassadors from the Asian countries came first, followed by a few Europeans. The four siblings praised them and thanked them for the plentiful gifts, guiding them to their chairs. They barely got any time to spend with each other before Alishba announced the commencement of dinner. Everyone floated over and took their seats. Wine was plenty and so were the meats as everyone relished in their meal, everyone except for Fadahunsi. His senses as an army general had him on alert. He felt as if something was wrong, his ears stood sharp in alertness, his gaze running over the hundreds of faces present inside the room.

And then it happened. He first heard it before he saw it from his own eyes. Daggers were flying in through the large windows of the banquet halls, hitting the ambassadors. It was instantly a blood bath. Their loyal guards rushed to their protection, guiding Samra, Alishba and the other women out of the room whilst he took to the front with his brother's. He deployed a team of his finest men to seize those who were attacking them, but that was soon the least of his worries. For no longer had they left, did a well armed team of men rush into the room.

They had large swords in their hands, they curved high into the air. They destroyed everything that came in their way, no regard for human life — at all.

"Bring out that woman!" One of them cried in rage.

"We will not be ruled by women!" Another spat out.

"She is in the underground chambers," Faheel shouted at the top of his lungs.

Blood drew out of Fadahunsi and Faheem's face. The men who were just about to rush out were gripped by the soldiers who had infiltrated the royal palace. The rebellion was over as soon as it began. The two brothers watched their own blood betray them. Their hearts were ripped out of their chests and crushed by a hammer, splatters of their flesh covered their brother's hand it seemed.

"Drag him to the dungeons, the Queen shall interrogate him". General Fadahunsi ordered.

Then he ran into the safe space built under the kitchens. His wife and sister sat in one corner. Huddled together, Samra sobbed into Alishba's shoulders.

"Fadahunsi!" Alishba stood up.

"Alishba Faheem needs to have a word with you," he kissed her forehead, then he lowered to his feet, palming his innocent wife's face he whispered, "my lips ache to meet yours and forget the poison that I have just been fed. But for now, you need to go back to our manor. I shall be back before dawn".