In a world where everything was decided for her before birth, Ilyana is suddenly not so sure she wants to play along anymore. Prince Layth may be the most eligible and handsome man in the sultanate of Shonara, but he has eyes only for his betrothed:...
True to Adara's words, we stopped at some noblewoman's house. In Adara's run-down I learned that the noblewoman was my mother's cousin. A rich widow with no heir, she inherited her husband's wealth after he died of consumption, and was obnoxiously intrusive.
Haniyah and I washed up and prayed, then were led downstairs to meet our hostess. Instisar and Adara had already been led away to the servants' quarters by the housekeeper.
"My, how beautiful you are!" she exclaimed upon my entrance.
I smiled politely, "Thank you for your kindness in hosting us, Khala. This is Lady Haniyah Anwari, my lady-in-waiting,"
She spared a cursory glance at Hani, then continued, "Oh, it's the least I could do. I hope your journey was comfortable!" she fussed, leading us to her grandest women's parlor. I noticed her throwing odd glances in my direction as she talked. We took seats and the Khala began to talk about my mother. "I must say, you look nothing like your mother!" she declared.
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"I suppose I take after my father, don't you think, Lady Haniyah?" I replied as a servant poured tea and set down refreshments.
"Oh, yes, yes! You definitely get your eyes from him."
"Quite beautiful eyes you have," the lady continued, "but that hair! Heaven knows where you got that from. It's straight—and jet-black!"
The conversations carried on as such until I was too exhausted to pay attention to any of her chatter, and simply nodded and sprinkled in an "Oh, my!" whenever I thought I needed to. My head felt as heavy as a brick, and Haniyah's advised sleep kicked in as soon as we were left to our rooms for the afternoon.
At dinner, which was more suitable to the title of a feast, our host entertained us with more morbid tales of the tragedies of her life. I might have been more inclined to listen if I wasn't so anxious. The next morning we would set out to go home. Adara estimated that the trip would only take about two hours. After dinner, I retired to my room, which was adjacent to Haniyah's, and started getting ready for the night. A light knock at the door brought Haniyah in.
"You look like you've been dragged halfway across the country," she commented as she reached for my hairbrush.
"Touche," I chuckled. "But it's not as if you look any better."
Haniyah faked an offended gasp, "Well then. I guess I won't show you what arrived here for you."
I perked up, "I got a letter?"
"Yes, guess from who?"
"The King of Jinns," I joke, knowing it's probably Daria.
"Close guess, it's actually from..." she pretends to read the name. "Ah, it's from his Highness, Prince Commander-in-Chief, Layth."
I swiveled around, surprised, "What? Why would he send me a letter suddenly?"
He had never sent a letter before. It was improper for an unmarried man to write to an unmarried woman, even if they were betrothed.
"I'm just kidding, look at you! You got so excited," she laughed.
"Not funny," I pouted and threw a pillow at her.
"Stop, stop! Cease the torture!" "Why should I?" I shouted back as I restocked my pillows. "Stop assaulting me with pillows in exchange for this letter, I beg of thee!"
I smile and grab the letter. Daria and I had been sending each other letters throughout the past few years. She was my only connection to home, and I anticipated her letters every month.
I tear open the letter and read...about how her scholarly studies were going, her mother's greetings to me, and about how Layth couldn't sleep at night because of me... I read that last part again and felt my face heat up.
Hani didn't miss a beat and perked up, "What is it?"
"Nothing," I hid my face with a pillow, inspecting it for dust.
She snatched the pillow from me and grinned, "I know it's not nothing, you're as red as Mama's face when she eats geplak."
We both burst out laughing, because Mama Murni is allergic to coconut, but could not hold herself back when it came to this particular sweet snack. The result would always be a very happy, but red-faced and rashy Mama Murni.
Haniyah paused to look at me with concern.
"You should get some rest. You didn't sleep at all on the way here."
I chortled at her. "It's almost as if you are always telling me to rest or sleep. I would almost suspect that you were trying to rid yourself of my company."
"Well, you are most disagreeable when unrested," she jested.
She had a point, but I wouldn't let her win this one, so as any sensible human being would, I threw my pillow at her face to commence a pillow fight.
