Don't compare her to sunshine and roses,
When she's clearly orchids and moonlight.

— Melody Lee

Qurtuba, Al Andalus
(Cordoba, Andalusia)

THERE IS A blush to the sky that of warm roses at early dawn. Like glitter sprinkled over the horizon. Dusted with gold and pink that is pleasant to the eye. Yet what content can beauty bring if a heart is not at peace, but momentarily. So is her state this very day.

She watches a kitten that has been following her for the last few days. It rubs itself over her dress every time she stops walking, looking up at her with its big, bright orbs— so lovely and innocent. And even though she has no idea where it came from, she's grateful for the company of a cat to offer her the slightest of comfort and distraction.

"Where is your mother, little one?" she asks the kitten for the hundredth time. Then sighs, repeating for the hundredth time, "I'm not your mother."

It only mewls at her, melting her heart. And despite the turmoil in her thoughts, she smiles at it.

"Masruq?" she calls her guard who steps forward instantly.

"Yes, my Amira?"

"Did you feed the kitten?"

"I did, sayyidati."

"Good. Be sure to take care of him." She kneels down to pick the black fur-ball in her hands. "We do not want him hungry. God knows where the mother is."

There is a sound of boots approaching them and her attention turns in the direction.

"Allow me a moment with the Amira," their company requests and her guard steps away.

She stands back up, the kitten still in her hands, rubbing its head with one finger as if seeking some form of support for the conversation to come.

"General." She tips her head in greeting, offering him an almost guilty smile. "Why was it that I was expecting you?"

There is a trace of frown over his forehead— a trace of frustration over his features. Yet beneath his masked expression is a hidden worriment she can readily detect. Something which he has never been good at hiding— never truly able to remain upset with her but that his concern always wins over. Partly because of his duty towards the crown as a general, and partly because of his relationship to her brothers as their friend and closest confident.

"Maybe because you realize the duty of your guard is more than feeding kittens and making lies, my Amira," the general responds. "And that someone has to remind you this."

"And that someone always has to be you?"

"Who else has the guts here?"

"And you do?"

"I'm right before you."

"I made no lies," she answers calmly.

"You left the palace without informing anyone," he argues. "Had something happened—"

"Nothing did."

"Had something happened," he presses, frowning more deeply now, "who would be held accountable?"

"I was not alone," she defends with the same passiveness and it appears to irk him more.

"I don't care." He looms over her, a warning in his words. "I will not make up lies to the Khalifa to defend you, Amira. Do not think Ameer Aswad will be any forgiving towards you and me for those lies because we're any special."

Sometimes, she does not know how to deal with him. Whether she fights him or tries to understand him, she cannot figure. For sometimes he knows things she would rather not have him to know. Other times, she feels as if he's fulfilling a responsibility he feels bounded by to keep— a responsibility he had towards late prince Tahman to guard his life but failed to fulfill. As if making up for it another way now. She cannot bring herself to oppose him.

"You know my reasons," she states, stealing her eyes from him down towards the kitten. "But I apologize for causing you the inconvenience."

There is pause, and she can feel his anger dissipating as he hushes, his voice dropping a notch as he speaks again.

"Rahaf. "

She glances up at him and he releases an exhausted breath.

He's still clad in his armor, hair tied back but a few strands loose over his eyes. It is shorter than the last she remembers, making him appear slightly boyish. Although every time he leaves the palace with the caliph for an expedition and then returns home, she feels as if he has aged more with his duties than aging with time.

He must have run out of his mind with the news of her extraordinary adventure to Almeria. But she had already prepared herself for this conversation, well aware that when he learns of it he would waste no second to confront her.

"Why did you go to a brothel?" the question comes the answer to which she would rather bury than utter. 

Rahaf glances away again.

What does she tell him? It isn't as if anything is unknown to him. Even if she tries to let some things be a secret only God knows about, those things God will unravel before him. She cannot keep secrets from the general of Cordoba.

"Kanan was going to be there," she reveals.

One of his eyebrows arches up curiously. "Was he?"

"No, but he was going to be," she repeats herself, feeling slightly defeated. "Had you not decided to return unannounced to the palace, and had he not received the news, I would've caught him red-handed."

Her company seems to be struggling to remain composed, his frustration showing once more.

"I don't care which pit Ameer Kanan wishes to visit, if you follow him again—"

"You will do what?" she dares, matching his expression. "Tell your caliph? Then go tell him now, general Marrar. I'm sure my brother will understand me."

Marrar clenches his jaw, the deep green of his eyes catching flames like a forest fire.

"Then go tell him," he dares back. "Allow me the pleasure of watching the Ameer's reaction once he finds out his sister had been to a brothel."

She can only strangle him with her eyes, very well aware of the circumstances of this dire possibility. Both of them know she would rather not have her brother learn of her reckless endeavor.

"Who was the man?" Marrar asks suddenly.

"Who?"

"The one you ran into at the brothel."

"How would I know?" The kitten twists in her hands, distracting her briefly. "But he did not seem to have any ill intentions. He was there only to rest for the night."

Marrar makes a face as if he couldn't believe her folly. She rushes to add more.

"He thought I was a slave girl and tried to help me," Rahaf explains. "As you can see, I'm unharmed. Masruq was with me all that time. He would have informed you was there any mishap, no?"

"This is the last time, my Amira," he declares, the last rays of sun coming to find refuge in his orbs, lulling the fire in there. "I'm not covering up for you after this."

She knows that's a lie and her lips crook up into a smirk.

"Of course not."

"I'm serious."

She only nods in reply. "Thank you. I will be careful from now onwards."

"From now onwards, you will attempt no such thing."

"But Kanan—"

"Speak to the Ameer about him if you're so keen to get rid of him. As you said, your brother will surely understand you. But I refuse to be anymore understanding than this."

"I need a proof against him."

Marrar shakes his head in firm refusal. "There was no proof for you in Al Mariyya. He went there to receive the Ameer of Al Andalus fleet, as he has spoken to the Khalifa about it. So do not act upon instinct again."

"He certainly lies," Rahaf defends her case. "You trust him over me?"

"He's not my friend to favor him over you. My only concern is your safety."

"I will do what I must—"

He jerks forward abruptly, cutting her off with his glare of disapproval.

"Go tell that to Ameer Aswad. I would rather not deal with an unruly princess set on defaming her betrothed. I've better things to do than entertain such needless matters."

Flabbergasted, she can only stare at him.

He turns his back on her and starts striding away before she could come up with a response. Rahaf is left seething in rage.

"Who even made him the general?!"

"Ameer Aswad, sayyidati," her guard replies.

"Of course, Masruq. But the rank is getting to his head." Her shoulders drop and she looks at him. "Who does he think he is? Why does he act like—"

She bites her tongue, not letting herself finish that sentence. Why does he act like he has a responsibility over her after Tahman, or why does he act as if burdened by a fault? She doesn't know which question is more appropriate.

When he was only a guard to her late brother, the sternness in his demeanor was not this evident. But after the death of Ameer Tahman and being appointed as the general of the army by the caliph, he has changed than how she once knew him— from gentler and flexible to rigid and unyielding. Rahaf doesn't blame him though. After all, the loss of her brother to her was the loss of his best friend to him.

"Why does he act like this?" she ends in a mumble, but Masruq does not answer her this time.

The dusk has fallen. She brings the kitten with herself to her chamber. It is cold outside and she has no heart to leave it there without its mother.

"What shall we name you?"

She smiles as she pets it, sitting before the fireplace on the cushions where it provides them warmth against the night.

A soft knock comes at the door.

"Come in," Rahaf permits.

Her visitor steps in and she looks up at him. The smile on her face turns to a grin.

"Akhi (brother)."

Aswad greets her with a smile of his own and she sits up, patting the space besides her. He comes to join her on the cushions.

"You found a pet," he says as he notices the kitten.

"Yes. Isn't he beautiful?"

"She is not a he," he corrects, reaching out to rub its head. "She wandered to the pergola earlier when I was in the garden."

"Ah." Rahaf turns to it. "I was going to name it after you," she jokes.

He chuckles softly. "I'm glad it's not a male then."

"Pity. I'll have to rethink her name."

He abandons the kitten and cranes his neck towards her. "Did you eat?"

She nods before inquiring, "Did you just return from meeting with your officials?"

He hums. "Kanan was updating me on the events that happened during my absence."

She wonders if he updated her brother on his escapade to the pleasure land as well. She wishes if she had any proof against the man she was betrothed to— to show Aswad the fallen character of his vizier. And though Marrar is right, she only needs to say the word than look for a proof to free herself of him, but she prefers to have a reason in the form of an evidence than mere words to end this relationship. Kanan is a man of strong political background that her family has old ties with. She has no desire to make things difficult for Aswad when things haven't already been stable for their family.

"General Marrar told me Kanan went to Al Mariyya to receive an official of yours?" Rahaf asks him.

"He did. Although I was uninformed," he tells her. "But the admiral of the fleet decided to visit unexpectedly. It was wise of Kanan to go there to receive him. It has been many years since the admiral last visited. I've decided to host a feast in his welcome when he arrives at Qurtuba."

Then what was the information she received of Kanan visiting a brothel? It wasn't the first time. But why is it that she never finds him there? Why is there no proof of his mischief? What if she has been misinformed? Either the spy has been mistaken and her doubts in him have blinded her, or Kanan has been masterly covering his misdeeds.

"You speak fondly of the admiral," she comments, not missing the admiration in her brother's speech.

Aswad tips his head in affirmation, his smile growing. "He's skillful at what he does, and has defended our borders through the sea for many years. It will be an honor to host him."

"We shall see who has the caliph impressed."

"You may. But for now," he fixes her eyes, his own eyes dark but affectionate towards her, "why did you leave the palace without my permission, Rahaf? Marrar told me you informed him, but unless I know of it, you shall not leave the safety of the palace."

Rahaf lowers her gaze. She realizes how hard it must have been for Marrar to lie in her favor, for she cannot do so for her own self whilst looking into Aswad's eyes. Though sometimes he's a friend to her, other times he's still a caliph. And as an older brother, after the death of their father, he has to fill those shoes for her too. Tahman is not here to shoulder the responsibilities with him anymore.

"Forgive me, akhi," she apologizes. "The general already spoke to me about it, quite strictly, if I must say."

"He might be right in doing so. If I look at half of the things, he looks at the other half. There's no one I trust more than him. But when it comes to you, nothing shall be kept from my knowledge." He lifts his hand to caress her cheek. "Take care of yourself when I'm not around."

"You know that I will."

He leans forward to kiss her forehead before getting up. "Adara will be waiting for me. I just wanted to see you before retiring for the night."

She nods and smiles at him. "Tusbah ala khair."

But before he can leave, a thought occurs to her and she hold his hand to stop him. Aswad looks back at her.

"You returned to the palace earlier than intended," she points out. "I hope all is well?"

He smiles and assures her, "All is well."

She let go of his hand.

But even after he leaves her chamber and she's left in her own company, the thought keeps bothering her.

It has been five years since their father was poisoned.

It has been an year since Tahman died.

Aswad is her only family left now. She will die before she loses him. And she will destroy their enemies before she does so.

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How do we like Rahaf?