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two.

Aaliyah woke up to harsh whispers, satin sheets, and a throbbing headache.

"She doesn't belong here," the first voice hissed, and from the deep baritone, she figured it was a man. "She's a liability."

"I hardly consider a palace dancer a liability Al Maharib," the other voice, higher in tone, belonged to a woman.

Two things were painfully evident to Aaliyah. The first was that the man, this Al Maharib, did not like her nor did he trust her. The second was that the woman, still nameless, disagreed. Other than those two things, she was clueless as to what was going on.

Fearful to open her eyes, she decided to listen a little longer and gather what information she could.

"And what of the friend?"

"What about her? She was a dancer too."

"Dancers who were constantly around officials and soldiers."

"You mustn't be so pessimistic Al Maharib." The woman sighed and Aaliyah found herself starting to like this nameless and faceless woman. At least one person was on her side. "Everything will be fine."

"And if it doesn't end up fine? If this ends up disastrous?"

Silence.

"You know he won't let that happen."

"You think he'll put her down?"

"I know he will."

Aaliyah heard enough.

Pretending to stir in her sleep, she extended her arms and faked a yawn.

"About time," the female chuckled as Aaliyah blinked a few times to clear her vision. When she could see clearly, she sat up and looked around the room.

It was decent sized, the walls black, and the decor various shades of red. The bed she was in was one of the nicest she had ever felt, and the sofas and dressers were just as lavish. A balcony door which led to the outside world was shut, black and red curtains blocking her view from what exactly the outside world held.

However, she didn't have time to focus too much on the room as she was finally able to put faces to voices. The two people standing at the edge of her bed were dressed in all black. The woman was short, blonde and blue eyed. She wore an amused expression. The man was a few inches taller than her, brown hair, and disdain in his blue eyes.

They both had belts with a sword sheathed on the side. She tensed.

They were members of the league.

"Where am I?" She questioned softly, her low tone indicating she just woke up. Pulling her fingers to her face, she felt a veil, but it was unlike any of her previous ones. It was black, cotton, and thicker.

She looked under the blankets and saw she was dressed in a simple black abaya. Someone clearly changed her out of her previous clothes while she was unconscious. The thought brought a blush up to her tan complexion.

She wanted to know who.

"Nanda Parbat," the blonde answered and Aaliyah's eyes widened. She had heard that name a few times before and was almost sure this was the home of the League. Their headquarters. "I am Ta-er al-sahfer and this is Al Maharib," she gestured to the man next to her who only gave a curt nod. "We-"

"Nadura-" Aaliyah spoke with alarm, suddenly remembering the last time she had seen her friend. The poor girl was in the arms of a killer. "Where's Nadura?"

"Your friend is fine," the man finally spoke. "She is in her room."

"Her room?" Aaliyah repeated, oh so confused. "I do not understand." She confessed, desperately desiring answers. "What is going on? Why am I here? How long have I been asleep?"