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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter 17 | A Book of Tales words kissed by honey, myrrh and gold
"YA AMIRA, SHE HAS THE STATURE OF A MOUSE." Rayan groaned when Farrah scurried past another row of tents and headed straight towards the camp's meharrem, "how can we possibly find her between the mass of badawi women."
Rolling her eyes, Farrah tugged on the boy's arm, "Oh stop moaning, Rayan. We both swore that we would protect her and I am sure that Soraya would like to see the girl brought home in one piece."
Rayan squatted downwards, with his hands on his haunches as Farrah stuck her head in between the goat-skinned curtain that lined the tent. Her eyes raked through the hoards of women as they soaked their skins in the golden paint and henna. She squinted her eyes for any signs of caramel in the sea of cinnamons and coppers, yet, she could not find her beloved Waliyah anywhere. The girl pursed her lips in disappointment.
Rayan let out another huff when Farrah refused to step away from the animal hide, "Ya amira, I'm sure that the girl can take care of herself."
"Rayan," Farrah tore her gaze away from the women and raised an eyebrow at the boy, "have you met Liyah? The same Liyah who face-planted into the concrete on the first day that you met her?"
Rayan snorted as his first memory of the red-cheeked girl came into view. Her tumble was unfortunate, but enough to alert the boy that a tiny intruder had arrived in his courts. "Who told you that?"
"You forget that I have numerous eyes and ears all over the palace." The girl's rich laughter rang through his ears.
"Ah," he nodded with a small smirk, "Your mother's handmaidens."
He was aware of the women draped in their ivory-tinted abayas and neatly woven braids. From afar, they were innocent doves flying through the corridors and courts of the place, but once the Malika fluttered her lusciously long lashes, their feathers darkened and their beaks sharpened. The Malika's little crows, as Farrah called them, never failed to whisper their sweet and wicked revelations to the queen. It was a miracle that Farrah and Soraya were able to pull off the princess's escape without being discovered.
"You ought to be careful around the birds," she clicked her tongue, "Oh, the things I know about your guards."
"Such as?" His brows up shot.
"I know you're always wondering where Ahmed disappears off to after his shift outside my doors," The dark-haired fox trailed off, leaving Rayan in suspense as she tucked her hands around her waist. Rayan squinted his eyes, urging her to continue. Farrah purred, "Sama."
