Silver Skies

12. Wedding Night

Assalamualaikum Stormers! Welcome to another exciting update for Silver Skies. This is the moment we have all been waiting for so I am VERY EXCITED to share it with you!!! Please remember to comment, vote and share and support my work if you are enjoying it!

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B U R A K
شَوَّال
T R I D A R I

Burak slammed the doors to his chambers shut, his heart hammering behind his ribs with fear and anger and a deep sadness he was all too familiar with.

Was there another name for the grief that overpowered him after wedding Falaq to her killer?

Burak clenched his fist. His long hair hung over his face, and beads of sweat began to gather on his forehead. Seeing Falaq as a bride to Hud, the day that should have been her happiest, had rendered him a new kind of hopeless. The pride that he wore across his shoulders, and the way he held his head, was nowhere to be seen.

There was a time when they were younger that he had secretly hoped Hudayfa would wed his sister, and become his brother through more than friendship. And then Burak and Bahar were wed, and their bond had grown deeper if possible. They were brothers at last. And still Burak had hoped Hud would marry Falaq, for who else could he trust with his baby sister if not the most powerful prince second only to the Crown Prince? The irony of his wish being granted was not lost on him, for Hud had just married his sister, and now he was the most powerful enemy to her.

Stories of Hud's ruthlessness had reached them all, but to Burak, it was a promise that Hud could do the unthinkable. He had spent years preparing for it.

Hot tears burned Burak's eyes. It was in moments like this he felt an abject failure to Bahar's memory. How would she feel, seeing them like this? He cast his gaze at their bed, which had been cold for so long, and the tears began to fall.

"Burak?"

It was the Amir. He must have doubled back for him. Burak hastily wiped his face as his father closed the doors behind him, a mask enveloping his grief once again. The Amir gently turned his son around, his wise eyes deep with understanding.

"Can I help you, father?" Burak asked, ignoring the obvious truth that his eyes were red and his cheeks still wet, "Is mother alright?"

The Amir nodded, and then gestured for him to sit down. From his robes he produced a small piece of parchment, folded many times into a small square. He handed it to Burak.

"I want you to see this"

Wordlessly, Burak unfurled the parchment. It was a small hastily scribbled note from Falaq.

Father, in case I do not have a chance to speak to you, please look after Ishtar while I am gone. She is in my care. She needs to lay low for a while. When the time is right, I will take her to the House of Ibrahim with me, for she will no longer be safe here.

Puzzled, Burak handed it back to his father. His mind was whirring with questions.

"What do you make of this?" The Amir asked Burak, though Burak knew his father had his own assertions he was testing.

Burak frowned, "there is more to this relationship than mere friendship...Falaq is very protective of this girl. She is no handmaiden. She is not from Tridari, yet somehow the Hashshashin allowed her inside the city. Such an order would have to come from the Crown Prince. What does it mean?"