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Rehana POV

"I am thinking of rewarding you for showing me your beautiful dance," he said, and I blushed hard, trying to hide my face in his neck.

"Jaan-e-Jahan," I inhaled sharply, unable to subside the fear running into my nerves. My knees slowly slipped down his thighs, and the way I was hanging onto him, I could not help but put my feet down.

"What happened? Hnn?" He whispered, suddenly pulling me closer to him as I stepped back a little. My weight immediately shifted on my toes, and my stomach pressed into his chest.

My breath turned heavier, and as I looked down at his handsome, beautiful, and Godly face, I could not help but slip into oblivion.

A place where the stormy winds moving my hair did nothing to me, a place where his hands slowly cupping my waist underneath my clothes held me captive, a place where his eyes gazed into mine was all that mattered.

Still, an itch remained intact. One slip and we both would end up falling and be dead.

And the thought alone made my fingers clutch his hair tighter on the back of his head.

"Bataiye. Baandh de aap ko,"

"Say something. Should I tie you here?" he whispered over my face. The tiny smirk was constantly lurking on his lips. He knew what he was doing.

My stupid heart was falling for it, but my mind reminded me to be safe, walk away from there, and take this to our bedroom.

But, the way his hot breaths fanned over my lips and my neck, and when he gently lowered his gaze down my breast, my chest, I could not help but close my eyes, giving in slowly.

My toes felt weak to keep my weight intact and my frame stable as he made me lean over him. And the moment he gently angled a little back, a strong shiver ran through my body, and I immediately pulled back.

"This is dangerous. Jaan-e-Jahan," my voice came out shaky.

And he just chuckled.

My heart was beating in my mouth, and I immediately took a few steps back. Then he crossed his arms over his chest, letting his smile shrink, and his eyes darken as I slowly pulled my dupatta from his hold and shook my head. My knees felt weaker, and I couldn't move.

Suddenly, he stood straight, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Taking his predatory steps closer to me, he towered over me. And when I tried to take another step back, I felt the cold stone wall against my back.

"Aap hume dara rahe hai, Jaan-e-Jahan,"

"You are frightening me, Jaan-e-Jahan," I managed to say in a low voice, and the tips of his lips pulled up, curving into a smile. I immediately turned around and began to run.

The noise of my heavy anklets echoed loudly through the small gallery as I took one step ahead of another.

The moment I turned around to see him, I found him standing, hands crossed over his chest. Just looking back at me slowed my heartbeats.

My laugh gently shrunk, my steps slowed to mere walking, and the deep panting slowly morphed into heavy breathing.

His lips carried a tiny smile, but the way he gently dropped his gaze down to the floor and then looked back at me elicited an eruption of shivers in my body, and I just stood frozen.

My feet slowly moved in his direction.

Why was I even running from him?

I had waited for him for years. And, when he was finally coming closer, I should be taking steps closer to him. Not the other way around.

With each step closer, my heart thumped louder against the shell of my chest.

And when I finally reached the stairs of that small cabin made on the top right of the Sultanate's tallest building, my palms felt slightly sweaty.

No matter how much I was ready for him to conquer, mark, and make me his, the nervousness remained pricking me.

"What changed?" he asked in a low voice as I climbed up and stood before him with my wrists forward, available for him to tie them wherever he wanted.

I knew it was risky. I knew that any slip or wrong movement might take someone's life. But, if this were what he wanted, I would happily die along with him.

"I am yours," I whispered, and his smile widened.

Stepping closer, he gently held my wrists in both his hands. My breath came ragged and uneven as he widened my hands and gently wrapped them around his neck.

My face was angled slightly backward to look into his eyes. The noise of the winds held me shaken amid his intense gaze, which kept me glued to him.

"Really? Why did you run then?" he asked in a low and deep voice. The tension was growing thicker with each passing moment.

I did not know what was going through his mind, and I did not want to know because whatever it was, it seemed dangerous.

My trembling fingers managed to clutch around his neck, and the moment I felt his hands gently gliding down the curve of my back, reaching my hips, I could not help but blink nervously.

He pulled me even closer slowly. My lashes fluttered as he slowly leaned in closer and captured my lips between his.

My breath hitched as I shifted on my toes to reach his lips. But suddenly, he took a few steps back and sat half against the edge of the cabin's railing. Widening his legs, he pulled me closer between them, and this time, his lips did not leave mine to stop my wandering thoughts.

The cold winds hit me like storms. I felt his hand cupping my hips and the other hand traveling up to my nape, collecting my flowing hair in his hand.

And, suddenly, the way he pressed my middle body against his chest and leaned slightly backward, the fear returned.

My lips quivered as he gently pulled back and looked into my eyes.

"Jaan-e-Jahan, khwaabgaah me chalte hai na,"

"Jaan-e-Jahan, shall we go to the bed chamber?" my voice came out trembling. The way he smiled, brought his hand to my chin from my hair and caressed it gently to ask, my heart fluttered.

"Kyu? Yaha acha nahi lag raha?"

"Why? You do not like it here?" his words carried the tease that was sending the chills down my spine and settling in my base before the tiny storms of trembles released in the places in my body.

Lifting my gaze, I looked around only to appraise the beauty of the night once again. The shining stars, the moonlight falling on both of us, the winds, and the height kept me hooked.

Suddenly, he pulled me closer.

"What happened?" he asked, and I looked into his eyes.

"Dar lag raha hai?"

"Are you scared?" he asked again, and I licked my lips before nodding slowly.

"Aapko nahi lag raha? Hum gir gaye to?"

"You are not scared? What if we fall?" I asked in a low voice, and he chuckled.

Turning his gaze to the back, he leaned slightly backward even more, and I immediately held his hand tighter. Looking down briefly, he looked back at me and shook his head.

"We will not die. We will only get our bones broken," he said, and I pulled him closer to me.

"Do not joke about it. It is scary. And why the hell are you even sitting in here?" I asked, referring to how he was comfortable sitting on the edge of the wall. I would never.

I loved my bones a lot.

"I like it here," he said, lowering his gaze, and I blinked nervously as he gently pulled his hands back from my waist and held both my wrists in his hands.

My heart was sinking deeper.

"I come here often to think. It is calm, silent, and dark," he said in a low voice, and I gulped frightenedly. I just wanted him to sit down. I did not want his foot to slip, I did not want anything happen to him.

"What do you think about?" I asked and noticed a smile appearing on his lips. Pulling me closer, he wrapped both his arms around me and caressed the upper curve of my hips.

"Umm, anything," he said, and I gulped and tried to look only into his eyes. Because if I saw anything else, I might faint. The winds were getting even colder.

"Like what?" I asked, and he smiled lazily and looked beside me for a moment to think.

"Like anything major. About the Sultanate, about laws, about wars—"

"Wars?" I immediately cut him off with widened eyes. He chuckled softly while nodding.

"Yes, wars," he confirmed, and my brows knit with confusion.

"You have fought the wars, too? Like killed someone?" I asked, and he caressed my hips while nodding.

"Many. Being Sultan means being the shield to the people and killing whoever tries to harm you, your family, or your people," he said, and I could not believe it.

"You have really killed people?" I asked with disbelief, and he squinted his brows.

"Why? Could not I?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"No. You seem so calm. I feel you can handle everything with silence and calm," I said, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Some people do not like negotiating with calmness. So, for them, I often hold the blades," he said, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

I did not know why, but suddenly, I felt a different emotion building up in me. It was nothing similar to what I felt for him for years. Because I did not know he was Sultan and he would have killed people. I always thought that he would be a normal person with a normal life.

Had I known that he would have killed people, I might have grown different feelings for him.

Suddenly, the thought of these manly hands stained in blood came into my mind, and I felt a heaviness in my heart.

"And you felt good about killing them?" I asked, wondering if he was like Sultan Rafiq, who killed people for his own good and to expand his Sultanate's regions.

"Sometimes," he said in a low voice, lowering his gaze, and my breaths turned heavier all of a sudden.

What if he would kill my father, too?

"Are you scared of me now?" he asked, and there was silence for a while. I blinked, nodding nervously.

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

"You are safe with me," he said, and I suddenly smiled, remembering how we two had met.

"Of course," I said, and he gently pulled me closer and collected me in a warm hug. My lashes fluttered before closing, and I hooked my head comfortably on his neck as he was sitting against the edge of the railing.

My thoughts were wandering in all directions. The new revelations brought a layer of doubts to my mind.

I had never thought that Jaan-e-Jahan would have killed someone. The thought alone of him beheading someone brought knots in my stomach, and I gently pulled back to look into his eyes.

"Did you feel bad after killing them?" I asked, understanding that it would not be only one.

To my surprise, he lowered his face for a moment and shook his head slowly.

"No. This is life. You kill to survive, or you die for someone else's survival," he said, and I immediately shook my head.

"No. This is not life. Life is beautiful. It is to live, not to survive," I said. I found my heart beating faster all of a sudden, and he immediately smiled, nodding slowly.

"Yes. It is to live as well," he said, and I did not know, but my heart was not settling with him killing someone.

Suddenly, I realized that I did not love the person who would have killed someone. I loved someone who saved lives. I loved someone who cared about others' lives.

What was the difference between him and Sultan Rafiq?

"Why did you kill them?" I could not stop myself from asking, and a lone tear rolled down my cheeks. He smiled weakly and washed it away.

"This is me, Rehana. Sultan Rehman Sulaiman. Nine wars fought and won and still counting. First kill at sixteen. And, then, one hundred eighty-two in a year.  And, no counting afterward," he said, and I felt the weight only growing on my heart.

My fingers trembled being fisted and sweated on his arm hearing it. I could not help but pull it back with the fear.

"So, you do not mind killing anyone for the Sultanate?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"Not at all," he said with utter simplicity and without thinking twice.

"Why?" I could not help but ask. Why did the Sultanate matter to him the most? Why did these walls were greater than love or anything else? Why would someone kill someone for it?

"This is who I am. This is what I am responsible for. It is my duty," he said, staring into my eyes. I shook my head, letting a few more tears roll down my cheeks. The mere thoughts of my father battling in the battle alongside his brother, that they lost Sultan Rafiq, brought fearful chills to my body.

"But why?" I asked, unable to understand it.

"Why not?" he asked, and I lowered my gaze with disbelief.

"So, you have," I gulped, unable to find the right words, "So, you have killed other Sultans as well?" I asked, and he stayed silent for a few moments before nodding.

I inhaled sharply.

"Then what happened to the women and the other people from those Sultanates?" I asked, and he gulped, shaking his head.

"They figure that out, not us," he said, and I chuckled, letting another tear roll down my cheeks.

"And what if those women end up in the wrong places? What if they get abused, forced, killed, raped, or something even worse that they would never forget?" I asked, and he caressed my back gently while replying in a low voice.

"When you step into the war ground, you put everything at stake: your kingdoms, your family, your people, and your wife. And war means you might win or you might lose. So, why step into the war if you cannot protect them? When stupid men make stupid decisions, they suffer," he said, and I shook my head.

"They do not suffer. They just die, leaving the women behind to suffer," I said. My voice came out aggressive, and he immediately pulled me closer and pressed his forehead against mine.

"Calm down, Bache," he said, and I inhaled sharply, trying to calm my racing heartbeats down.

"So, if someone will try to stand against you in a war, you will kill them too?" I asked in a shaky voice, and he looked into my eyes and nodded slowly.

"Of course. Without even thinking twice. I love my family," he said, gently patting my back, and I blinked nervously.

I could not tell him about my father. Not yet, not ever.

"And, my family is your enemy too?" I asked, and he knit his brows and stayed silent for a few moments before nodding.

"Of course," he said, and I lowered my gaze, gulping silently.

Suddenly, a strong wind hit both of us, and I shivered visibly in the cold. He smiled, looking at my face and looking around before saying,

"It is getting colder here. We should go down," he said, and I nodded nervously.

Standing up straight, he held my hand, and I silently followed his lead as we walked through the gallery, then climbed down the stairs and reached the hall.

No one was there now.

Everyone had gone.

My eyes wandered into the hall, peeping through the curtains, when suddenly he pulled me closer. My chest crashed into his, and my eyes widened with shock.

"Kya hua Rehana? Mohobbat khatam ho gayi aapki?"

"What happened, Rehana? Your love is finished now?" he asked, and I looked into his intense eyes.

I did not know why, but I had no answer to his question.

Suddenly, I felt as if I did not even know him yet. All these years I believed that Jaan-e-Jahan would be a simple man with simple life. He would be someone calm and collected, and never in my wildest dream had I thought that he would have killed someone. And, all these years I was in love with his good image that this revealations felt too much to digest.

And I felt hung between the truth and expectations.

What else was there to know about him?

And about love, I did really feel some wounds in that for him.

But I shook my head slowly and stepped back to look in the door's direction.

"It's too late," I said, referring to the time of the night. It was way past midnight, and I gently pulled my hand from his hold before lifting my sharara a little up to walk back to our chamber.

I did not find him following, and the moment I reached my chamber, I found it dimly lit. My ankles hurt as I pulled my feet out of my bellies. And the first thing I wanted was to come out of these heavy clothes.

The thoughts of him killing people were not leaving me as I stepped inside the changing room and stood before the mirror. The door was closed, and I looked around to find the suit I used to wear at night—the same white-colored, plain, light, full-length suit with loose fittings.

I inhaled deeply finding it folded on the corner table. A slight smile appeared on my lips as I marched closer to it.

The faded noise of the chamber's door opening caught my attention. He must have come back, too.

And suddenly, my sight fell on a tiny folded thick paper that was kept near my clothes. My brows knit with confusion, and the moment I took my hand closer to it to read, there was a knock on the door.

"Rehana, are you changing?" Jaan-e-Jahan asked, and I looked in the door's direction.

"Ji," I replied and immediately collected the letter. My mind immediately went to my father, and the mere thought of this letter belonging to my father made me open it quickly.

'I want to meet you. Please come and see me outside the Sultanate.'

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