ᵀᴵᴹᴱ / THREE WEEKS LATER

Having already begun their travels from the most southern-eastern end of the Iberian peninsula where their hometown of Áqila was situated, heading towards the capital city of Córdoba, the travelling party had decided to rest for a while.

While the riders got off their horses, the covered palanquin was set down, having been carried the whole way and a young girl stepped out, her face covered by a veil for travel with only her sharp, upturned brown eyes revealed.

By the time it was early evening they would arrive at the palace, giving them no real need to rest, but Muhammad had requested it, travelling along with his sister as her mahram escort.

He sat under a wide tree which provided plenty of shade from the warm weather, which Badriyyah found pleasant enough an idea to join him.

"I can't believe your being married off to some Qāsami prince," Muhammad spoke first, placing his hands together on his lap and making Badriyyah sniff at that but gave a surrendered smile.

"I know. Three days. Isn't that absurd?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards but it still didn't settle into a smile. She hadn't seen any expression similar to joy on his face this past month, though it wasn't too odd for him in general since he was a serious-type character.

Badriyyah smoothed down the fabric on her incredibly fine dress which had been sent for her of a brilliantly dyed blue and gold material. "I suppose I should just be happy that he's not old. I can deal with it if he's not good-looking."

"Eighteen is still too young, though. He's hardly a man at that age."

"Well," She waved her hand dismissively as he handed her a waterskin which she took a long drink from. "I shall only hope he's kind enough then."

Her elder brother scoffed at that, as if knowing much that she didn't. Although he had mentioned something to the nature of her marriage being a "bloodwit," he left it at that, leaving her with far too many questions unanswered.

"Although his status was played nicely as the second prince, his reputation precedes him as a useless recluse."

It was true that the second prince was known to be completely uninvolved and uninterested in his duties of state or war, living separately away from the rest of the royal family who resided in the palace.

There were eleven princes in total belonging to the Qāsami dynasty, ranging from the twenty-one-year-old crown prince to the five-year-old eleventh prince. Out of all his brothers, only the second prince held no real reputation outside of being a recluse and was rarely seen in public as well.

Her two other brother back at home were thrown into a frenzy when they had learned of her royal engagement. Though they were normally relaxed and somewhat immature, they seemed to recognize a gravity to the situation that she didn't understand. But in the end, all they could do was see off their younger sister and brother as they left for the capital.

Badriyyah would miss her brothers and their families and a particular ache came to her when she realized she wouldn't be able to be there for the birth of her most recent niece or nephew, who was due in a month.

"I'd rather a recluse than a dangerously ambitious prince." Badriyyah opined in a quiet voice which Muhammad missed as he stood to rise and resume their journey, the two siblings ending their conversation and Badriyyah slipping back into the palanquin.

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Crossing over the Guadalquivir river along the Roman-built footbridge as the stones of the bridge and cityscape were bathed in an orange glow along with the 16 arches with the Great Mosque in the background, the travelling procession entered the capital.

The Caliphate of Córdoba was the cultural capital of the world and a prosperous Islamic domain which encompassed most of the Iberian Peninsula; save for the independent Christian states of the far north; and the tip of North Africa.

While it was originally an Emirate falling under the jurisdiction of Qāsami Caliphate, it became separate from the mainland power after a revolution led had taken place, removing the Qāsami's from power and having replaced them with the Hashimite Dynasty.

However, in the eighth century, 'Abd al-Malik I, a prince of the deposed Qāsami royal family, refused to recognize the authority of the Hashimite Caliphate and became an independent Caliph of Córdoba.

The gem in the crown of this independent and wealthy nation was the capital city of Córdoba, which was also known by its Arabic name of Qurṭuba, was a mega-city with 400,000 inhabitants and was one of the most advanced cities in the world, as a great cultural, political, financial and economic centre.

As the travelling procession passed in and through the capital city to reach the palace which was 5 km from the inner city, Badriyyah sat in the moving palanquin with only a birdcage holding her small wide-eyed owl to keep her company, it turning its head to mirror her curiosity.

Carefully using one finger to push back the side of the covering to see out, the young girl was immensely impressed and not let down at all by the 'legend' of the Capital's greatness.

The golden-age finery of the city greeted them upon entry, the forest of columns and horseshoe arches with their two-tone brick and stone pattern and the pretty and fragrant orange trees lining the paths, the sight was awe-inspiring to the backwater small town girl, who soaked it all in.

Twisting alleyways led off from the main street, which were partially devised to help Córdoba's citizens keep cool from the Mediterranean heat since they remained cloaked in shadow for most of the day.

Letting the curtain slid back as they passed by the posh Jewish Quarter and she met eyes with Muhammad, who gave her a disapproving look for uncovering herself, she slid back in the palanquin with bright catlike eyes.

"We're here." She breathed to no one in particular but herself and her bird, the excited yet cautious spark in her expression unmistakeable.

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From atop an open second-floor veranda of a bathhouse, a man leant against the geometric carved stone pillars while his dark brown eyes watched closely as travelling party carried on down the city streets below.

"So the children of Jazâyir return to Córdoba once more..." The man smiled mysteriously, his loose white robes rustling slightly with the passing sudden warm wind of the climate. "What do you think of that, Ja'far?"

The young figure, who for all intents and purposes looked and dressed as a ghulam, or a servant boy with short hair and trousers, despite the uncanny feminine features and a feminine voice which spoke analytically in reply.

"Your power isn't shaken in the slightest by their arrival, your highness. I do not see them as a concern to be noted."

The sharp eyes paid particular notice to the stoic man riding a horse beside the palanquin while making a 'hn' sound in thought. "Not a concern...you say."