❝My love will drown you to the depths of the sea.❞
Furat bin Kiyan, the fleet admiral of Al Andalus, is a spy and a rebel on a mission to kill the caliph of Cordoba and claim the throne for himself. But finds himself in trouble at the hands of Rahaf...
Don't compare her to sunshine and roses, When she's clearly orchids and moonlight.
— Melody Lee
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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."
