❝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...
There's a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly and he thinks if he could just maneuver one into place— well then, game over.
— Richard Siken
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"YOU'RE A SNAKE."
Furat tosses back his head and laughs at the insult. Rouzbeh doesn't sound upset or angry at him but rather pleased and proud of the trap he has set for his so called friend.
"Just what Kanan deserves," he says.
Rouzbeh agrees with a hum as he takes a gulp of his wine and reaches for the pitcher lying beside his chair to refill his glass.
"Aswad bin Motassem will kill him."
Furat smirks at the statement. It wasn't what he had originally intended to do— he didn't intend to kill Kanan. But his friend has become too arrogant and audacious for his liking, so much so that Furat can sense a threat from him.
The fire in the fireplace is blazing just like the rain raging outside this cold night. Rouzbeh's chamber is lit with way too many candles, contrary to the starless, midnight sky. Every now and then, the thunder roars, and he can feel the window glass and palace walls shaking with it— a weather he doesn't mind.
"It's better that he does than I do." He leans forward in his chair and cranes his neck towards Rouzbeh. "Never in my life I'm letting another man take this throne and serve him."
Rouzbeh takes another gulp of his wine, his reply coming casually but not carelessly. "Many men have died for this throne, akhi. Not everyone can have it."
"But I will, for I've sacrificed too much for it." He turns away to look at the fire, its flames burning their way to some seething memories. "I don't thirst for a life of comfort and luxury. I want freedom from all that we've endured— I want an outcome now."
Rouzbeh puts his now empty glass of wine on the end table and rests back in his chair, closing his eyes.
"I only want revenge, Furat. You're my friend— my brother. You may become my caliph. You know no matter what, I'll always be by your side. I can sacrifice my life for you. But tell me, what burns warmer? The fire of love or that of revenge?"
Furat doesn't answer him. Rouzbeh doesn't want one from him, for he already knows they both share the same purpose. It's the same revenge they seek. And he too can sacrifice his life for him, for he's not a friend but the only family he has. The boy he shared his childhood with and grew into his youth with together. The only man he can rely on. The only person who's both his strength and weakness.
"I think that of revenge," Furat mumble.
Rouzbeh smiles and looks at him. "Do not forget this when you marry Rahaf bint Motassem."
He scoffs, tossing his head back once more and sinking into his chair. His eyes flutter shut, the sound of the angry rain outside rather calming to his ears.
