t w e n t y - f i v e

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HER EYES PEEL OPEN to the noon sun, the blazing ochres falling on her soot coated face in harsh layers, building up like a kingdom prepared to fall into ruins

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HER EYES PEEL OPEN to the noon sun, the blazing ochres falling on her soot coated face in harsh layers, building up like a kingdom prepared to fall into ruins.

Cupped palms touch her cracked, parted lips, water entering her sore body. Shahrazad gulps it, parched throat composing itself, and as her vision adjusts to the strange lighting, she notices the handmaiden's face hovering above hers. "Malika?"  

Laleh holds her gingerly, cradling her head, quiet gasps following. "I was so worried. I truly thought you would not be -- that you would-- you are okay, are you not?"

She attempts a feeble nod, expecting her bed of curls to tangle in the sand, flinching when jagged ends brush her shoulders instead.

The handmaiden's fingers shake as they reach out in caution. "Your hair," she whispers, "What happened?"

Shahrazad distinctly hears the sounds emanating from the presence of soldiers, and when Anwar's stressed features blur into view, she is positive that the palace fighters are watching her. "They dragged me by my hair . . . pain . . . it hurt, so I chopped it before they could."

"You set it all on fire," Anwar mutters, and she cannot see his expression through her grappling eyes, but his voice holds an awed quality. "You burnt it to the ground, Malika." 

She pushes herself using the support of her elbows, wincing. "It was necessary."

"Disperse," Anwar commands, and she can feel the tugs and shifts in the sands around her as soldiers trudge away. "Careful, Malika, careful."

"What happened after I - after I lost consciousness?" 

Laleh holds her forearms, sighing. "You should rest for now."

The King's brother speaks, and from the ripples in his notes, it is clear that not all went according to plan. "Afshar escaped."

Her breath halts, anticipating, waiting, fearing the worst. "And?"

The handmaiden shakes her head at him, bangles cluttering, unwinding her hands into a balled fists. 

"He is heading towards the palace with an army." 

" 

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