❝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...
Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
SLEEP HAS LEFT his nights and peace has left his days. All day long, he keeps thinking about ways he can convince Aswad bin Motassem not to marry Marajil bint Hirash. All night long, Rahaf won't leave his mind.
Marrar watches with a flat face and a tight heart the caliph talking to the young woman whose beauty is no match for Adara bint Nurahan, yet she has a beauty of her own that he cannot deny. There's a grace and delicacy to her, reminding him of Rahaf, and a purity in the way she cannot hold the caliph's gaze for long and shies away. He worries Aswad bin Motassem might take a liking to her.
Though unlike Rahaf, there's naivety in her speech that reflects upon her youth and wraps one away from the world. Marrar doesn't know whether it's a quality or a disadvantage, but that for him it's a lack of skill which Rahaf possesses- where instead of being wrapped away from the world, one is lost into her. And he doesn't know if his Ameer will prefer it given that the wit of his queen is something he has always admired.
The thought keeps him restless all day. So when night falls and he's given some time alone with the caliph, he decides to bring it up.
"Did you decide something about the proposal, my Ameer?" Marrar casually slips the question into the conversation. He's sitting with Aswad bin Motassem in his chamber and they're done discussing some political matters.
"Which one do you ask about?"
Aswad puts a paper down before him on the table and looks at Marrar. The general clears his throat.
"About yours and the daughter of Ameer Hirash, sayyidi."
The caliph picks up another paper and begins to study it. For a moment Marrar thinks he might have crossed a line with him. It only makes him feel more ill at ease.
But then Aswad asks, "Should I?"
He doesn't know how to answer him. He doesn't know how to say no without giving away his personal interest. But perhaps for a second it had slipped his mind that he cannot fool the man sitting before him. For the caliph of Cordoba is no ordinary man.
"I'm afraid Ameer Hirash's interest is only in an heir to the throne, as you had mentioned, while his daughter is quite different than our Malika," he reasons.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Perhaps not. But perhaps you should have a match worthy of you, my Ameer. I haven't known anyone who can compete with queen Adara."
Aswad looks away from the paper to him and smiles a knowing smile, eyes burning into his as he exposes him with his next words.
"Does your conscience make you guilty, Marrar, or do your fears make you selfish?"
