❝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...
Life is not all lovely thorns and singing vultures, you know.
— Morticia Addams
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HE DRAWS OUT the sword from its sheath sent to him as a gift from one of the governors. He holds it up and studies it. The blade glints in sunlight filtering into the throne room through the windows. Then it slices the rays when he flips the sword to his other hand, swinging it, checking its grip. He brings it back down and rests the tip on the floor. Marrar watches the caliph smile.
"I like it." Aswad turns the sword in his hand. "I will keep it. Send back my thanks for this beautiful present."
Kanan tips his head. "I will, my Ameer."
"There are more swords, sayyidi," Rouzbeh informs him.
"How many?"
"Two more."
"Marrar?" Aswad calls him.
He steps forward. "Yes, my Ameer?"
"You may take a sword if you wish to, and give the other to Furat as a gift from me."
"As you say, sayyidi."
Aswad waves his hand, dismissing everyone, but gestures for him to stay. All the men start filing out of the room one by one, except for Kanan who stays behind as well.
"You've something to say, Kanan?" Aswad asks.
Kanan comes closer, his hands tied before him respectfully. "Yes, sayyidi. There's something I was hoping I could speak to you about."
Aswad only nods, a silent permission for him to go on whilst his eyes still remain on the sword, admiring it. Kanan waits for the throne room to be emptied, his eyes briefly meeting Marrar's as if wishing for him to be gone too before he can speak whatever is on his mind. But the general firmly stays his ground.
"I wished to speak about myself and the Amira, sayyidi," Kanan says.
If he wasn't a man of perseverance and proficiency, Marrar would never be able to master the art of leading his soul with his wits than emotions. But life has taught him well. He remains calm even when a storm rises in his heart.
Aswad pauses. Though his eyes stay on the sword, Marrar can tell that he's no more thinking about it. Something in his already eery eyes turn darker.
"Speak," he permits again.
"My Ameer, if you will allow it, I wish to marry the Amira." Kanan smiles a hesitant smile. "I've spoken to her about it and she has no objection to it as long as you don't have any."
Aswad doesn't respond. Kanan looks at him, then back away to the caliph. His smile fades into an expression of worry as he waits for an answer.
"My Ameer," he proceeds after a while when Aswad doesn't reply. "If we have your permission, I will like to hold our nikkah as soon as possible. It's been overdue already—"
