There is nothing I can do
Nothing you can do
What can the wound do
With the knife on the way to it?

— Nizar Qabbani

THE MORNING IS cold and gray. The glass of her window is misted and hazy. The drizzle is falling softly without much lightning and thunder. Rahaf sits on her window seat knitting roses on her handkerchief.

Hamama plays on the qaleen with her beads and mirror. Her kitten sits with her observing her curiously. Once in a while she says something or asks Rahaf a question. Some of them Rahaf answers with a smile. Others she has to find a way out of.

Once in a while she also wanders far away from the present into her own imagination. Sometimes thinking about something that happened long ago into the past. Other times thinking about what future may or may not bring. But every time the roses on her handkerchief reminds her of someone.

She doesn't know if he's the reason she ended up knitting these flowers. Or if these flowers are the reason she keeps thinking of him. But whatever it may be, she thinks of him. Whether it be the rain or the roses, or whether it be his perfume with her. Lately Furat has been a lot in her thoughts. Rahaf smiles to herself.

"Rahaf?" Hamama calls for her attention once more.

"Yes, my dove?"

"Who is the new lady at the palace?"

Assuming she's referring to Ameer Zurarah's sister, Rahaf replies, "Ah, she's a guest. Why do you ask?"

"I like her," Hamama declares, making Rahaf smile again. "She and I watched the moon together. She also told me that I was beautiful. She was telling me a story about the moon but my baba came and took me away," Hamama rambles. "Baba was upset."

"Why?"

But instead of answering her question, she asks, "Is she your friend, Rahaf?"

"She is."

"What is her name?"

"Marajil."

Hamama goes back to playing with her beads. She's making a pattern on the qaleen that Mushq keeps ruining for her. But she patiently keeps fixing it without shooing the kitten away.

A knock comes at the door. Rahaf allows the visitor inside and Adara comes in.

"Sabah al khayr," she greets.

"Adara, welcome."

Rahaf puts away the handkerchief in her hand and creates room for her sister-in-law on the window seat. She comes to join her.

"How are you, azizati?" Adara asks.

"I'm good. Thank you."

Adara smiles and turns to look at Hamama still busy in her own little world. For a moment she keeps gazing at her. Then she tears away her eyes from her and bring them back to Rahaf.

"Your brother spoke to you regarding a certain matter," she says.

"He did," Rahaf affirms.

"He wonders if you've given it a thought?"

"I did."

"Do you have an answer for him yet?"

She does, she wants to tell Adara. She already had an answer when Aswad mentioned it to her. Perhaps even before that. She doesn't know when she became certain of her feelings, or when did she even develop them. But that despite her efforts of resisting Furat or turning him down many times before, her heart is drawn towards him like no other.

But Rahaf cannot confess it despite being aware of it. As if giving words to them might make them stronger. As if not acknowledging them might give her some kind of a leverage. That perhaps it might hurt less if she's to not have him.

Mistakening her silence for something else, Adara adds, "His intention is not to rush you. You may take your time if you haven't decided yet. But that Ameer Furat leaves Qurtuba in a week and Aswad hoped to make an announcement before that, so arrangements can be made accordingly."

"I understand," Rahaf replies.

"Are you leaving somewhere, Rahaf?" Hamama inquires, suddenly interested, abandoning her things on the floor and coming to her.

"Rahaf may be getting married soon." Adara smiles, looking at her. "Then she will have to leave with her husband."

Hamama stares at her with her big, bright eyes that go dull and gloomy at the information. She wraps her arms around Rahaf's legs, fisting her gown in her small hands.

"Don't go," she pleads.

"I'm not leaving yet," Rahaf comforts hers, petting her hair.

"But don't you ever go."

"Hamama." Adara lifts her up onto her lap. "One day she must go to her home. But she'll come to visit you, won't you, Rahaf?"

"I certainly will."

"But this is her home," Hamama argues.

"True indeed. But so will be her husband's home her home. She'll have to live with him."

"Then why doesn't she marry my baba so she doesn't have to leave?"

Rahaf feels her face burn in mortification at Hamama's words. Adara looks at her, a little surprise, and clears her throat. She forces another smile on her lips and kisses Hamama on the cheek.

"Little angel, do not mention it before anyone else, alright?"

"Why?"

"They may call it bad."

Hamama blinks in confusion at her, no more understanding their conversation. Adara calls for a handmaiden to take her away. Once she's left alone with Rahaf, she turns to her.

"Only if Aswad would allow it to be, who could be better than Marrar for you?"

It only makes Rahaf blush some more. Her eyes shy away from Adara.

"I've never looked at him that way," she protests weakly.

"I never looked at your brother that way either, until fate gave me a chance with him and I couldn't stop loving him afterwards."

But what does she tell Adara? That it isn't Marrar who has stolen her peace from her. That it's Furat. And that only he can return it to her.

She quietly stares down at her hands. Adara reaches out to pat them. Rahaf meets her eyes again and she gives her a warm smile.

"Whatever you decide, I'll be happy for you."

Rahaf smiles back at her. "Thank you."

She stands up, ready to leave. "Let me know when you make your mind about it. I'll convey your answer to Aswad."

She knows no matter how long she's given, her heart has already decided for her and it won't change that decision. She believes waiting any longer will do nothing but she'll only lose more time. Before Adara can exit her chamber, Rahaf stops her.

"Adara?"

Adara turns to her.

Rahaf stands up, feeling a little giddy and strange, slightly nervous even, as she finally gives her answer to the proposals.

"Tell Aswad that I agree to marry Ameer Furat."

MARRAR SITS IN the chair with his head tossed back and his eyes closed. His thoughts are a mess and they're making his head ache. He wishes he could silence the chaos in his mind and rest. He wishes darkness would engulf him and he would become oblivious to the world around him.

Just for a while, he wants to dissolve away into a moment of tranquility and nothingness.

Before him, Humran lies soundly asleep in his cradle and Hamama on her bed. His son has been unwell and that has kept him worrying atop other things. And then his conversation with Hamama.

Oh, how innocent it has been for her. But how greatly it has distributed him. As if he had expected anything different— anything in his favor. As if that was ever a possibility.

"Baba?"

"Yes, habibti?"

"Why don't you marry Rahaf so she doesn't have to leave me?"

"What brings this up?"

"Rahaf is getting married and going away. I asked her to marry you so she can live with us."

He opens his eyes and looks at Hamama.

"They told me not to say it again because it's bad. Is it bad, baba?"

Marrar doesn't realizes how firmly he's gripping the armrests of the chair until the ring on his finger digs into his skin and begins to hurt him. He loosens his hold on the chair and heaves a sigh, tossing his head back once more and staring blankly at the ceiling. His headache only becomes more stronger.

"How unfair," he hisses.

He keeps sitting in there not knowing for how long. Until eventually he gathers the strength to get up and he decides to go out to clear his head.

Marrar leaves his chamber and makes his way outside of the palace. Torches burn to light the empty corridors against the darkness of the night. He walks briskly but quietly. Soon he's standing under the night sky in the freezing cold.

Leaning against a column, he takes a deep breath and it mists before him in the air. Marrar turns his face to the sky and finds it clouded and starless. The moon barely peeks behind from the thick veil. He gazes at it a long moment, lost. Soon he begins to forget his headache.

"I must have dropped it in the bushes." A feminine voice reaches his ears. "How can I lose it? Ya Rabbi! Please help me find it."

"Don't worry, sayyidati, we'll find it. But I don't think we can see anything in this dark. Why don't we come in the morning—"

"No! I'll remain restless until I find it. Sleep won't come to me otherwise."

Marrar straightens, turning towards the source of the voices. Marajil bint Hirash comes out of the palace with her handmaiden, both the women rushing towards the bushes with candles in hand. What a strange sight, he thinks.

They don't notice him standing there watching them as they search the bushes for something. She must have lost something precious to her to be looking for it like this in the middle of the night.

"Here, hold my candle. I must use both of my hands for this."

Marajil passes her candle to her handmaiden and searches with both of her hands in the soil, mindless to any thorns pricking her or any dirt covering her.

"If I don't find it— oh my God!" she screams when she finally sees him and stumbles away, falling to the ground. Marrar doesn't budge from his place.

He frowns. What an odd woman, he thinks to himself as her handmaiden helps her up. Now both the women look at him as if caught in a theft.

"I didn't see you standing there," Marajil excuses. "General, my apologies. You're the general, right? I cannot see you clearly. Excuse us please."

Marrar doesn't attempt to move neither utters a word to her, probably making her feel more embarrassed as she feels the need to explain herself to him.

"I lost my bracelet. I'm looking for it here. I believe this is where I dropped it."

He doesn't know why she's bothering telling this to him. She stands there awkwardly as if waiting for him to acknowledge her. Not knowing what to say to her, he decides to just return to his chamber.

But before he can, she asks him, "Do you mind helping us?"

Yes. He wants to flatly refuse her. He's in no spirits to be looking through the bushes at this hour for nothing. He's in a terrible mood, annoyed and upset, and his headache is returning.

Perhaps that is why instead of simply refusing her, he responds more rudely than appropriate, probably ruining any chances with this woman whom Aswad bin Motassem is considering for him.

"Perhaps it's better you don't invest in jewelry that so easily break off and is lost. You may want to buy something less cheaper the next time."

He walks away. If the women are thinking of him to be a madman or a rascal, he doesn't care at all. But he hasn't walked off that far when he steps onto something. Marrar stops and leans down to pick it up.

To his surprise, it's actually a bracelet— probably the one belonging to Marajil. And it really is broken.

He's ready to return it to her. But thinking him to be gone and not knowing that he's still around, she says to her handmaiden, "Did you hear him? What an impolite man! Does he think his good looks compensate for his lack of manners? Well, they certainly don't."

Changing his mind, Marrar pockets the bracelet instead of returning it to her. Marajil bint Hirash can keep look for her bracelet in the bushes all night long. She'll never find it.

When morning comes, all the officials are summoned to the court of the caliph for an announcement. The men line on the left and right of the throne and Aswad bin Motassem sits on it with his sword in his hand and his hawk like eyes sweeping over everyone to make sure no one is missing.

"Bismillah," he begins. "My men, I've gathered you all here for a very important announcement today. As you all know my vizier, Kanan, tried to poison me and my men and was nothing more than a traitor to the crown. His end should serve as a lesson for everyone who dares so to follow in his footsteps. For whoever dares so will meet an end far worse. And I'm very much capable of being more severe in my punishment than that."

There's a pause. Marrar is sure if there are any traitors among them, they'll have their souls shuddering in their bodies. For indeed Aswad bin Motassem can be more ruthless than what they've seen.

"But Kanan was not only my vizier," Aswad continues. "He was also betrothed to my sister which made his betrayal far more unforgivable for me. He failed his responsibility towards the crown and failed to honor the commitments between our families. Though now that which is done is done. I've no doubt among my men are those who can fulfill those responsibilities far better than him."

Aswad then motions for Zurarah bin Hirash to come forward and he does so.

"Ameer Zurarah will now serve as my grand advisor in place of Kanan. May this brings us goodness and he fulfills his duty towards the crown honorably and sincerely."

The men mumbles a collective ameen.

Aswad then motions for Furat to step forward and Marrar feels his heart sink. He hopes it isn't what he thinks it is. He desperately prays for him not to be Furat. Aswad bin Motassem cannot have chosen Furat over Ameer Zurarah for Rahaf. Marrar fists his hands so hard he could draw blood with the force.

He wishes time would stop. He wishes the courtroom would perish. For some reason he wouldn't have minded if it was Ameer Zurarah for Rahaf. He believes him to be a rather decent man comparatively. But Furat, he makes him wary of him. Crooked. Devious. Guileful. Something about him isn't right and Marrar doesn't like it.

"Ameer Furat, I give my sister's hand in marriage to you. From today onwards, you're family to us. May our Lord bless this union."

Another collective ameen echoes from the gathering, and Marrar joins in, praying with all his heart that it be so. Even when he feels a pain so awful in his chest that it's almost physical. He wishes not even the slightest misfortune or suffering on Rahaf. He can only hope this man doesn't prove to be another Kanan to her. Because if he does, Marrar know this time he won't be patient to just sit back and watch her fall apart.

After all, how much a heart can endure? How long before logic succumbs to madness? How far before principles bent? And how much does it take for someone to become a villain?

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Part I: To Become a Villain
the end

Part II continued...