Zaara shuffled through the boxes of stuff in her aunt's closet. She was never allowed to even enter the closet adjacent to her aunt's bedroom, but here she was, digging for some clue of who and why someone would kill her chachee. She had been staying with her best friend, Leena's family for the past three nights but during the day, she found herself back in her aunt's forbidden closet, desperate to solve the mystery of her death. Leena's mother had begged for her to stay home and rest, but that was the last thing Zaara could bring herself to do. They had held the funeral the day after her death. Many people from the village showed up, even some from out of town, but no one from the Caliphate of Sarin. It wasn't like she was expecting anyone from Sarin, their Caliph was known to be more cruel and merciless than any other ruler in all of Jambudvipa. When his father had passed the throne on to him, he set a law that no citizens of Sarin could leave the Caliphate limits without exclusive permission. This made it extremely rare to see any signs of the Sarin anywhere. Since their village was so close to the border of Sarin, causing travelers to be wary of staying there , it wasn't likely that someone would come to their home and kill her aunt at random, and the possibility that the killer had escaped Sarin to do so was even less . Someone had to have a strong motive, a reasoning. Zaara placed her eyes on the final box she had yet to open. She picked it up, opening it gently. Inside was a collection of overflowing letters, covered in the signature calligraphy everyone knows belongs to the people of Sarin. She grabbed the top letter, careful not the crease the delicate paper. She assumed this was the most recent one, as it was dated just a week before her aunt's death.
What good is the girl to you? it read, bring her to me and I will spare you. Zaara gasped as her eyes set on the signature at the bottom.
Muzaffar-ul-Mulk.
Zaara felt as though the walls in the closet were closing in on her. She was drowning out of water. She had found what she was looking for.
The Caliph of Sarin had killed her chachee.
Zaara gathered herself and took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen where she had left the Sarin dagger.
And she was going to kill him.
YOU ARE READING
The Caliph and his Crown
FantasyWhen Zaara's aunt is murdered by Muzaffar-ul-Mulk, Caliph of the Sarid Caliphate, she does everything in her power to track him down to seek revenge. She knows only one thing, he must die. Inspired by ancient Arabia and South Asian culture, The Cal...
