13th century- The Middle East.
In the heart of the Arabian desert, Princess Laila of Al-Shujae tribe faces an impossible choice to save her people from an ongoing siege. To secure peace, Laila agrees to marry the fearsome commander of Al-Muharibun...
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Chapter 13
سعر الحرية-The price of Freedom
When every dream was of him, she could only wake whilst saying his name. He began to consume her in a way she had never felt before. Forgetting of her imprisonment, now her greatest punishment was being so close, yet so far.
"And you are sure we will not get caught?" Laila asked. This was not the first time she had sneaked out of a palace, but it would be the first time she feared being caught. "Of course not Amirah, in fact, I have made all precautions. You are not to be disturbed today at all." Hafsa smirked, proud of herself.
Since the night Laila had returned from her 'walk', she had not been the same. Her days and nights were spent thinking of only one person. If only this sickness had a name, it would've been easier to find a cure. Residing within these four walls any longer would prove her illness to be fatal, she needed an escape.
"Stay behind me," Hafsa said as they approached the gate to the palace.
She gave her name, and then another name which was unknown. The guards briefly glanced at them before allowing them to exit. As soon as they left the coolness of the palace walls, they were greeted with the intense heat of the desert.
There was a straight path before them which led off into streets filled with small huts and stalls. Palms tress were dotted around the elaborately decorated buildings, providing shade to the people as they tried to earn their livings for the day.
The sound of shopkeepers shouting their deals of the hour filled the air, combined with the singing and laughter of children running through the rusty roads without a care in the world. As beautiful as it was big, the city of Gold at its peak.
Far bigger than the small markets of Al-Shujae. Most of the people here were dressed in different coloured fabrics, patterned with unique tribal embroidery. Only when you looked closely, you would see that others were dressed in rags, outshined by their wealthier counterparts.
"Come, let me take you to Maryam's home!" Hafsa almost jumped in excitement, taking Laila's hands as she guided her through the streets. It would seem the small town girl was now an expert in city life.
A young boy suddenly approached, becoming more familiar the closer he came.
"Isa!" Laila ran towards him, her affection overriding her senses. He jumped into her arms, recognising her despite her veil. His mother, Maryam, was closely behind. Her eyes were bright with happiness as she waved at the women.
"Laila!" She shouted, opening her arms as she embraced her. Their uniting was short as Maryam quickly rushed then into her home.
