Liyah's breath hitched in her throat. The sandy desert stretched for miles and miles, without end. She looked at the two in front of her with an exasperated expression etched on her face, "Tell me this gets easier."
Rayan smirked, "Careful, habibti...
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Chapter 3 | Malikatar the land of the sweetest dates
"AND THAT IS THE SEVENTH KING, KhalifaReza II bin Ousama al-Tarif." Rayan explained to her as they strolled towards the next frame mounted on the wall.
Liyah studied the regal-looking picture with great detail. The seventh king of Almasahra was a cruel-looking man. He had dark, beady eyes that hooded over in the picture. Khalifa Reza was crowned with an oddly alluring headdress. The circular headdress was forged from pure gold, she could tell, but the center of the crown held a crimson-red jewel. Could it be a ruby? An expensive gemstone? It was rather interesting.
"The currentKhalifa was named in honor of Reza the Second. His father." Rayan continued, "Next to the seventh king is his wife, Malika–"
In all honesty, Liyah stopped listening to the words coming out of Rayan's mouth the second that she caught sight of the female monarch. The woman seated next to the Khalifa was exquisitely beautiful. She was a tall, slim woman with a desert-kissed tan. Her eyes were all too familiar: the same ones that Liyah had, that Jamal had, that most Almasahri descendants had. Chestnut brown.
The Malika gave a rather cheeky smirk, as if all of the secrets of the world were concealed between her two rose-tinted lips. Liyah titled her head and scanned the hall for any portraits of the Malika. When her eyes landed on another picture of the Malika and her children, Liyah grinned. "What did you say her name was again?"
"Malika Waliyah al-Tarif." Rayan said a little frustrated, "where you even listening to me at all?"
"Sorry, Rayan." She apologized honestly, before a broad smile graced her lips, "My father named me after her. All I knew of her was that she considered royalty. I didn't know that she was the seventh queen of Almasahra."
He assumed a position next to her to look at the portrait of Malika Waliyah and her three children. A name was just a name, after all, but Rayan couldn't help but feel a lump forming in his throat. A little intrigued, he asked her the question, "Your name is Waliyah?"
"On paper, yes, but my mother prefers Liyah," She elaborated as they moved towards the next painting of the Royals of Almasahri on the first Coronation Day. Liyah leaned forward to get a better view of the first king and queen of the al-Tarif dynasty.
"Why does she prefer Liyah?" He raised his brow. Sadly, her answer never reached his ears but rather the footsteps of a uniformed figure had.
"Ah, Rayan I was looking for you." A deep voice called, "The Khalifa requests your presence at th– and who is this?" The man's eyes suddenly lit up upon seeing Liyah, "who would've thought I'd live to see the day that Rayan al- Jawfi brings his beautiful lady into the palace?"
