The Serpent's Veil

Belonging

Khayzuran was waiting for him in the palatial chambers, still kneeling on her prayer mat as she gazed out the window. The sky was a deep indigo stained with the last remnants of orange sunlight, the gentle twinkle of stars a near dream. She had removed her veil and loosened her headscarf after they called with news that Tahir had returned successfully, and Rehan had departed. They had prayed together side by side in silence, kneeling, prostrating, rising with the same movements. He kissed her forehead after he folded his mat and changed into his kaftan. Khaya helped him tie his keffiyeh, tucking in the little curls which managed to peek out, and he was gone.

She heard the clean sweep of the axe as it cut through the air with ferocity, the tearing of warm flesh and the end of a life. She opened her eyes and drew her awareness away, and she sagged in relief, the mountain resting on her shoulders suddenly crumbling away.

After a time his quickened footsteps sounded on the spiral staircase and she rose as the door opened. Rehan ran to her, his earlier poised and arrogant expression of power now mirroring the pure relief on hers. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed their bodies together, burying his face against the sliver of soft skin exposed near her collar.

"It's over," he breathed against her. He drew back and tucked a strand of hair back beneath her loosened headscarf, ran his thumb over her parted lips, his gaze soft and dark.

"There is something I wish to tell you," he said, releasing her. Confusion clouded her eyes as he continued. "After I discovered you were here, I was angry, yes, but also afraid. I was terrified that something would happen to you. I thought..." He sighed. "I thought about freeing you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean releasing you from me, so you could go back home."

"To Baghdad?"

He shook his head. "Home, to Jorash, where you could be safe."

Her voice shrunk, hardly a whisper. "So, you wish for me to go." She could feel her throat beginning to close.

"No. Even though it is better and safer for you, I don't want you to go. I can't bear the thought of not being with you, of being apart from you for a single second longer."

Her brow furrowed. "Why are you telling me this, then?"

A muscle in Rehan's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "I am selfish, Khayzuran, but I can't force you to stay here with me in a place where your life could be in danger, even though I love you, even though I could command you of it. Ultimately it is your decision." His eyes fluttered closed and he let out a long breath. "After the Gold Suq is over, do you wish to go home?"

Khaya thought of her mother, her siblings. Of Jorash and Baghdad.

"The last thing you did for me before leaving for Rey was send a letter back to my family. In it, I had put five gold dinars and a map." She smiled just as he opened his eyes. "I do wish to go home, to you, to my family who I've called to Baghdad. That's where I belong."

"Are you sure?"

She closed the space between them, taking his hands. "Yes."

Her eyes glittered as she looked into his. One moment they were still, the next she was reaching for the lapels of his kaftan and pulling him down into a soft, aching kiss. Her heart swelled with every conceivable emotion, pain, longing, hurt, desire, love, as his hands cradled her neck. The gentleness of that touch coiled around her spine and settled deep inside her belly as she reached up to untie his keffiyeh. In between soft sighs and stolen breath Rehan's hands slowly slid down Khaya's body and snaked around her waist, guiding them both to the bed. Their lips never left each others as he gently lifted her by her hips and reclined her back, her hair splaying on the dark sheets. She watched as his kaftan slid off his shoulders, and his body cut a silhouette against the silver moonlight streaming in through the window, utterly, utterly beautiful.