I did not sleep the night. The image of the hidden sculpture gnawed on my mind. I felt restless and annoyed. Why did Prince Omar bring me to the garden if he did not want me to see that statue? He could not really expect me to forget about it! I did not understand that man. His actions, his words - everything was so confusing.

I sat up on my bed, biting my lower lip and playing with a strand of my hair. I needed answers. All this ridiculous riddles and secrets was making me lose my mind. Why were they hiding so much? What was with this deliberate attempt of mystery surrounding this secret of the Monarch? Did they still think they could not trust me? If so, why was I here?

I closed my eyes and the image of the hidden statue flashed in my mind. It was larger than most. Why would they keep it hidden? It did not make sense.

I needed to do something about it. I would not be able to sleep if I did not find any answer.

My eyes opened at their own will and I shut them, taking a deep breath I tried to channel the Moon. She had always helped at my worse times, maybe she would not hesitate to answer my plea? I imagined the silver radiant ball in the sky. I imagine the calm I felt whenever I looked at her, whenever I talked to her. She was a friend and a guide. I needed her.

What should I do?

I chanted in my mind, in the hopes that she would answer me. I wanted her to. I waited patiently rocking back and forth lightly on my bed. I inhaled again and concentrated on seeking her, going deep within myself. I did not envision the sky but something deep inside me. A light. Is that what Omar had said? That there was light in me. I tried to imagine that light - it was silver and mesmerising. A ball of energy and it pulsated as if it was real.

What should I do? I repeated my question.

Whatever you think is right, my dear.

I heard her voice first and then I felt her. Her power, her sense of calm. I had missed her. She was real. She may not be the Moon but whatever she was, she was real. Nothing else could make me feel this way. I smiled.

I opened my eyes, determined. I was going to seek some answers.

_

The garden was the way I had found earlier and so were the guards.

I did not want them to complain about my intrusiveness to the Prince. How would I confront him then? I looked at the night sky. It was comparatively cooler than before and there was no hint of moon. But I had listened to her in my head. Could it be that I was talking to myself?

Whatever it was, it surely helped me make my decision. I was not letting it go even if that meant I was not right in my head.

I put my chin up and removed the hood from my head. I would act like a noble lady and ask them to open the gates for me. Could they deny? I hoped not.

I walked towards the gate, my heart thudding so loudly that I could hear it. Could they? I swallowed as I approached them and met one of their gazes. He looked at me in confusion and I raised my eyebrow a little. He nodded and motioned the other guard and both of them opened the gate. I could not believe that they had believed my act.

I smiled at them in gratitude and walked in. I ignored the statues of the late-Queen, Omar's mother and father as I made my way to the hidden statue.

"Omar told me you would come. He knows you well." I closed my eyes. Caught.

I turned and looked straight at Master Wali. He wore the same clothes for dinner and had the same haggard tired expression on his face. Was he waiting for me?

"Your curiosity is your flaw, Miss Ayah. You hunger for answers. Why should we give them to you? Especially when we have no idea what goes inside your mind." He walked around me, observing me. I sucked in a breath. Now, what?

"But this time," he smiled at his shoes, "this time, your curiosity helped us. You took the bait and here I am with all the answers. Just the way Omar wanted."

"It is hard for him to talk, he is not a man of many words. He also despises talking about his brother, not because he hates him, but because it is difficult for him. I think you may understand, if you got the chance, would you be able to talk about Imad?" He tilted his head to his side and his eyes gazed into mine. He knew I could not give him an answer so he was seeking them through my expression, my feelings.

I answered him in my mind. I could not. It still hurt me to think about my baby brother. The wound was still raw.

Was Monarch Qamar dead? How could I help a Monarch who was dead? I stood horrified at that thought.

"You know, Omar and Aqib say that it is easy to talk to you, Miss Ayah, because even when you cannot talk, you have learned how to converse through your expression. Yet, I find it completely difficult to read you, why is that?" I shook my head. I had no idea why he felt that he could not read me. I had also no idea whether I was really so easy to read. The only people I had genuinely interacted with besides Omar and Aqib were my family and they knew me from birth. However, he did not let me dwell on my thoughts further --

"Anyway, I will try deciphering your thoughts. Shall we?" He pointed towards the statue and I followed him. I was getting answers but suddenly I did not want them anymore. I did not know what I had expected to find. I felt my heart quicken and dread to seize me. I wanted to go back. But my legs had a mind of their own and they followed Master Wali.

He had a small knife in his hand and he went towards the side of the statue where the sheet was tied to a hook with the help of a string. He cut the string rather than untying the knot and I stared at the statue in front of me.

It was a young woman roughly Omar's age. She looked of noble birth with the way she held herself but she wore rather plain clothes. Or so was the way she was sculpted that day. However, the smile she wore on her face was genuine and I could not help but smile with her. She even had a slight dimple on her right cheek. I gazed at her longer, trying to take her in. I knew she was someone important or she would not be in this private garden. Who was she? I trailed my eyes and caught sight of a small statue beside her. I was too busy looking at the lady that I completely ignored the fact that there was another statue - of a little child. I felt my eyes widen and heart feel heavy. The little girl would be no more than three, she was a toddler and from the looks of it, the woman's daughter. It was evident with the way the woman was looking at her. The smile was for her. The little girl had plump cheeks and round eyes. There was an innocence about her that made me feel warm. I felt my eyes burn and I quickly looked away. What had happened to them? Who were they? I raised an eyebrow at Master Wali who was silently observing me, he cleared his throat -

"Do you know how to read, Ayah?" It was not a taunt. It was a genuine question. I shook my head.

"I will read for you then," he motioned me to come closer, "Iqra - the wise." He pointed at a golden plate on the podium at which the statue stood. The name was written in our dialect and I touched the golden plate as I tried to rack my brain. I had heard the name before. And then, it dawned on me. My eyes grew wider and I froze. No way!

I gasped as her name registered in my mind.

My eyes flooded with tears as I stared at the woman before me and her child. The child! The little girl was just three! She had barely learned how to talk or walk. She had not seen the world! She had died at such a young age!

I thought back to Imad and the anguish I had felt. The way my mother could never be the same again due to the loss.

"Queen Iqra and Princess Yusra - Monarch Qamar's wife and child."

I took a step back and stared at Master Wali. My heart was beating irregularly against my ribs. My thoughts were clouded and loud. I felt emotions soar within me and tears trickled down my eyes carelessly. I did not wipe them. I could not. I had judged the Monarch so harshly while all this while he had lost something far greater than I had ever. But this did not make anything clear. What did Master Wali want to tell me? Was there more to this? I wiped my tears and looked at him questioningly.

"I suppose you want to hear the entire story," he looked at me expressionless, "do sit down. It is going to be a long night."

My legs gave up and I sat on the ground. He did too. I did not even care to find it odd that Master Wali was sitting on the ground in front of me.

"I will start from the very beginning. You need to know everything." He said. I did not respond to him as I waited patiently. I wanted to know everything.

"Let's go back to the time where Monarch Shams' was still alive and had just taken the throne from his brother in law." Master Wali sighed and looked away, he did not want to meet my eyes, I did not care, " His firstborn son - Qamar - was only eight at that time but Qamar was always mature for his age - arrogant too. He understood things that were not supposed to be understood by a boy of his age. He knew what his father had done to get the throne. He also knew that with one move his father had made many enemies - enemies that in future, Qamar would have to deal with."

Master Wali looked at me. His eyes betrayed nothing, neither did his tone.

"I am telling you this because I need you to understand the type of man he was. Politics had always been in his blood, even when he was young, he grew up understanding and in a way loving it. He had good instincts regarding it. Something that Omar always knew that he lacked."

I nodded and kept my head clear. I would not let my emotions get the better of me. I wanted to know who truly Monarch Qamar was. Who was this man that these people had sworn to protect? Who was this man that they could do anything for him?

"Anyway, Monarch Shams' ascended the throne and to the people's surprise turned out to be quite a level-headed leader. He was just and kind. He was aware of the people's sufferings and figured out ways to help them. Qamar was always under his wings - his second - learning from his father in every passing moment. In case, the day of him being the Monarch drew close. This story, however, starts when Qamar was thirteen." Master Wali's voice was quiet and soothing to the ears. He said the story in a way as if he was sharing a secret but this was something that people did know. He looked at me and continued, I could see him searching my eyes, looking if I had any questions. It told me that he cared that this story should be told in the right way. I crossed my leg and sat up straight, " As was the custom, a lot of noblemen invited the Monarch to their house for whatever reasons - the birth of a child, wedding, housewarming. Monarch Shams' was invited to one such event and because he was busy, he told his sons to go. He was not the type of man who refused such an offer. He wanted to be good to his rich people as well as the poor people.

Qamar was always ready. He was not the type of boy who minded that attention. He knew he would get it sooner or later once he became Monarch. Omar was always shy and hesitant, but as long as he got the chance to be with his brother, he would take it. Omar was seven years old that time. Both of them went to the nobleman's house and that was the first time that Omar met Aqib. Both of them of the same age, but poles apart. One was shy and the other confident, but both of them were clever and quite the troublemakers I have heard."

How did that relate to the Queen? I wondered. Why was Aqib being mentioned here? Did he relate to the Queen? I also thought over Monarch Qamar. So far, he did not seem to be a bad person or a man capable of killing. What had happened?

"They grew inseparable. Aqib was always in the palace and when he was not that meant that Omar was with him in his house. They did everything together and both families came close to each other thanks to the boys' friendship. However, what Qamar did not know that Aqib had an older sister. A year younger to Qamar. She had been sent off to her aunt when she was seven for education and she was to return when she turned twenty. It was a grand homecoming and since the Monarch's family had grown close with Aqib and his family, they were invited and they had graciously accepted the invitation."

I felt my heart falter and I inhaled loudly as I tried to calm my heart. Queen Iqra was Aqib's sister? That explained everything. How could he not tell me this? Why didn't he? I considered him as the friend - an ally. Didn't he?

Another part of my brain reminded me that if I was in his position, would I want to talk about Imad? No matter how close we had become?

"Qamar had always been the older brother to Omar, so that way, Qamar and Aqib never grew that close. He was always his younger brother's best friend. Well, they went to the grand homecoming of Aqib's sister and this was the first time that Qamar saw Iqra. For him, it was love at first sight. His eyes knew nothing to do but stare at her the whole evening. She was so happy coming to home at last that she did not even realise that she had piqued the crown prince's interest. Qamar had always been quick to make decisions when it came to his heart. It had been broken much time but at that moment, he had made his decision to learn more about the girl with a sweet smile. It is what he called her."

Master Wali got up and I did the same. We went and stood in front of the statue of Queen Iqra. She looked so happy. I could not help but feel happy for her. Her tale was like that from a fairy tale or bedtime stories told to a little girl. A prince had come and taken her heart away. She was so lucky.

"If you look at her without the glory of her title, you will realise that she was quite a plain woman. Nothing incredibly beautiful about her, her features were dull and simple. But Qamar had seen something in her, something that had attracted him to her and that very second he had vowed that if he was to marry any woman, it was her."

I had to admit, even though thinking like that of this woman made me feel bad. She was nothing extraordinary - not the way the previous Queens were.

"She may be plain," he continued, "but she was intelligent, educated and wise beyond her age. She knew the consequences of marrying the heir to the throne and hence, she refused every time Qamar approached her. It was hard for him, he had to swallow his pride but he knew he needed her. Every time she refused, it simply made it clearer to him that he was nothing without her. He needed her wisdom and her strong shoulders to rely on. If he was to be a good Monarch, he needed an ever better Queen. She was his everything and how could a girl refuse that? She could see the need for her in his eyes and the vulnerability he showed only to her. They got married when he was twenty-four. It took three years for him to convince her to marry. She did and within a year she gave him a beautiful gift - the one thing that he would love more than Queen Iqra - his beautiful angel Yusra."

My eyes fell to the little kid. I swallowed a large lump that had formed in my throat. Tears threaten to spill again and I had to use every ounce of my strength to stop myself from crying. My heart pained for the beautiful woman and her child. Most importantly, my heart pained for the man they loved. For the man who had lost them forever. Is this what drove him to the edge? The once mighty king losing everything in a spur of a moment. How did that feel?

"He was not wrong when he said that she completed him. She was his everything - I keep saying this because it was the one thing that he never took lightly - he had once told me that only one-third of his soul remained in his body, a part of his soul was in Iqra and another part in his little daughter. He adored the two ladies in his life."

Master Wali's voice shook and this was the first time I saw the man show real emotions, my eyes widened and a drop of tear slipped from my eye. I could see the way he was devoted to the Royal Family, especially the Monarch. I could see the way he talked about the Monarch. He admired the man. He loved the Monarch's family. How did one become such a devotee? What made one commit so much to another?

"Their hatred towards the Monarch was deep. It ran in their blood and they rose again, they asked me to join them, but I had sworn my allegiance to the Queen. I denied. So they rioted against the Monarch, causing a mood of anarchy among the people in the fringes of Alam. Prince Omar advised the Monarch to meet their leader, come to an understanding, but Qamar refused. He did not want to be seen weak by his people. The leader of the desert people threatened to kill the Monarch's family, Prince Omar was obviously worried so he convinced Qamar to meet the leader. Little did he know that his worry for his brother would become a dark curse in his life, the day the Monarch went to meet the Leader of the desert people, that rascal send some desert people to the City and they had one agenda - kill the people who the Monarch was close to" Master Wali's voice turned acid and I could see anger flash in his eyes for a second. But then his gaze met mine and he calmed himself down. "The Monarch thought he had been clever because he had sent his wife and kid to live in her parent's house. But the Leader knew, they knew about the Queen's and the leader instructed the people to burn the entire house down and anyone who lived in their mansion. Ten people died in the fire - burned alive - Aqib's parents, Queen Iqra and her child, Aqib's grandparents and four servants. The worst thing of all, the whole thing happened in front of Qamar's eyes, he had returned to get his family back to the palace, a messenger had told him about the plan of the leader of the desert people and Qamar had bolted as fast as he could for his family. He never met the leader."

I felt a lump form in my throat and tear flowed freely on my face and under my chin. All this while I had thought Monarch Qamar to be a monster. I had thought of him to be a careless and arrogant Monarch who did not care for his people. While he was handed the worst punishment by his people. They had snatched away the only two things that he had ever kept close to his heart. They had ripped apart his soul into pieces and taken two parts of it away from him. The darkness, the despair, the hollowness that I had felt on the first day. I had felt him. He was there in the palace. I felt him - a man void of any purpose, any soul. He was a shell.

"He blamed himself for leaving his family behind but he also blamed Omar. It was, after all, Omar that had convinced him to leave. Their death broke him into millions of pieces, he is no more the Monarch we once knew. He is a shell haunted by the demons of his past. He lives that day every day for three years now, hoping that this time, he would be able to save his wife or child. Hoping that maybe, if his daughter came back, he would be whole again. He would see her alive again, he would see her be a Queen like her mother. He despises Omar, he hates to see his face, everytime Omar comes in front of him, the Monarch loses his sanity - threatening to kill him. It was why he was banished but Omar had to come back. We needed a face for the people. Someone who belonged to the Royal Family. Omar would rather be away if that meant his brother would feel a hint of peace. But Qamar's demons are too much, he is slipping away. I know he has been fighting, he lasted for three years but now it has worsened. He says he sees his daughter, asking him to help, crying and begging. He feels the need to help her, it is the reason why he killed the Royal Guard because the Guard was preventing him from going to his daughter."

I stood rooted to the ground. Had she been burned alive? The three-year-old girl was burned alive? I felt myself trembling. Were they even human? The people who had the heart to snatch away the life of such a young child? I did not care of the hatred they felt for the Monarch. Their reason may be completely justifiable but what was that poor child's fault? She was simply learning the way of the world. She had just begun to understand the working of her mind, she had just learned how to control her tongue. Was her life of no worth?

What about Aqib? He had lost everyone! Everyone that he ever knew, people he grew up with. What about their life? His family? His sister? Did it not matter?

They were so willing to burn an entire house. What did they wish to prove?

For the first time in my life, I felt raw rage burn through my veins. I could feel the hatred stirring inside of me. Whoever they were, I hated them. They needed to pay. If that meant, I had to help the Monarch then be it. He was my king and the only ruler I wanted to rule this land. He was the man that they always thought him to be. Only that life had been brutal to him.

But a part of me kept asking this question.

What could I do?

How could I help?

Maybe listen to the song linked in this chapter as you read it? It'll help the mood to set in! Let me know your thoughts :D