𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄:

The picture above simply gives you an idea of where everybody's at. The red star is the capital city of Córdoba, (which was also known as "Qurṭuba" to the Arabs) and the blue star is where the story begins in the small city of Áqila (as it was called during that period, but is modernly called Águilas.)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

10𝔱𝔥 𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔶 ⇁ 𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙣 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙪𝙨

The current group of six sat around the rooftop terrace, which was laid with woven persian-style carpets, traditional floor cushion seating and stained glass lanterns, which flickered and casting vibrant shadows of red, greens and golds over the gathering.

Their mother poured more rose tea into small glass teacups, handing them to her two children and two guests.

"The Amīr al-Mu'minīn has arranged a marriage offer for the Lady Badriyyah bint Jazâyir." One of the men spoke first, formalities having gotten out of the way. He was of a darker, black complexion, though his beard was a lighter grey and seemed to have more seniority than the other.

"Hm...I suppose she is of age already." Her mother mused strangely as if having been expecting this visit. "Seventeen is quite normal for marriage."

Though a muscle in his jaw twitched, her brother remained oddly silent as well, leaving the girl in question completely confused with this turn of events.

She knew that she was of the age of marriage and was quite mentally prepared for it, though she had been expecting to wed one of the village boys. To have an offer be presented by the Leader of the Believers himself - who was she to get such treatment?

"Forgive me..." Badriyyah interrupted hesitantly as her owl hooted in the background someplace. "But who is it our Amīr wishes me to be married to...?"

"His second-born son, the Prince Harith bin ′Abd al-Malik." The messenger answered politely as the multiple colours of the lantern flickered.

▬▬▬▬▬▬

ᴸᴼᶜᴬᵀᴵᴼᴺ / ELSEWHERE

"Badriyyah bint Jazâyir?" A voice echoed the name as it was reported to two masculine figures sitting in a dimly lit room with a few candles throwing dancing shadows around the space.

Wiping off the edge of his quill tip on the ink jar, a masculine figure frowned deeply, his brown turban not quite matching his hazel brown-green flecked eyes."What was the Caliph thinking by bringing someone of her bloodline to Córdoba?"

"Probably not much by the looks of it." Another figure added to his question with a light shrug, as he watched the wax of the hanging candlelight diminish and drip onto the bronze plate it was held by.

"It's bound to cause a stir, that's for certain. Lets us simply hope that the outcome won't be too much to handle." The second voice continued with a sigh, propped his head onto his hand.

Hazel eyes darkened at the words, as if taking them for an ill omen.

▬▬▬▬▬▬

Marriage.

The single word couldn't seem to leave Badriyyah's every thought as she paced around her room, the guests having taken up lodging in the masjid that night in wait for daybreak to continue their arranged meetings.

Her own family seemed to have become mute as to why the Amīr would personally arrange for her hand to be with his second son since, with her own knowledge, she was only a fatherless village girl of no real status in life.

With their silence, the messenger's waiting and the Amīr's orders, all Badriyyah could do was agree. She couldn't very well refuse the Caliph's orders with no good reason to, so she accepted the proposal hesitantly.

A knock was heard at her door, which opened to reveal her brother carrying a long wooden box, which he set down before her and sat next to her with.

"This is...?"

"Why don't you open it, first, before asking questions?" Her brother scolded, though not harshly.

Raising an eyebrow at the box, the brown-eyed girl obediently followed her brother's instructions, sliding the top off the small chest, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of two objects.

One was cushioned between some velvet fabrics and was a small, ornate sheathed dagger that was no bigger than her palm and conveniently covert to carry. It was a very attractive blade, she realized as she unsheathed it, seeing how sharp it was with only a delicate touch of the blade drawing blood.

"Why would you give me a dagger?" Badriyyah questioned her brother's choice of a wedding gift.

"You don't need to use it." His expression was serious, more so than his usual tone. "It should serve as a reminder."

"Reminder for what...?"

"Not to let your guard down around anyone."

Badriyyah was silent for a moment with that, taking the lesson to heart and she ran her finger over the second item with a nostalgic feeling. The familiar wooden bow was something not quite a gift since she was given it many years ago when Muhammad first started to teach her archery but she appreciated his assurance that she would be bringing it along as well.

If there was any material thing she cherished in her life, it would be her owl and her bow. Incidentally, both gifted to her and trained with her brother's help.

"Keep up practice when you're gone," Muhammad ordered, earning a quick nod from Badriyyah and a ruffled of her hair in return.

It was no secret that she held a great amount of respect towards her eldest brother and never once disagreed with anything he told her to do. Despite becoming head of their household when he was only ten, immediately after the death of their father, he shouldered all their responsibilities on his shoulders without complaint.

"Muhammad..." Badriyyah asked hesitantly, keeping in his firm silence on the matter. "I don't understand why the Caliph would ask for me personally of all people. Aren't there any noble women left in the capital?"

Her brother gave her a stern look for a moment before sighing heavily, as if all his burdens of the last seventeen years came bearing down on him all at once.

"...Bloodwit..." His dark brows knit together in annoyance.

"Bloodwit?" Badriyyah echoed in confusion.

"Our family has a lot of history, Riyyah, though none of it is any pleasant." Her brother explained carefully, though with a few angry emotions mixing with his attempt to choose his words well.

"It seems as though the capital has chosen to pay their blood debts in such a superficial manner of marriage."