Kingdom of Qays

02| chapter two

THE QAYSI PALACE

when you shoot
an arrow of truth,
dip its point
in honey

– proverb

STRONG WINDS TEAR AT THE branches of nearby oak trees, uprooting weeds and shrubs in a fit of rage.

       Tribesmen usher their horses into the stables whilst the shepherds shelter their livestock. Even the ants disperse in large groups, carrying their prey to the safety of their nests as rain assaults the land. The livid skies roar once more, flooding the ground and drowning the roots of timber and grass.

       Aisha's unsteady gaze darts away from the scene—petrified.

       Her breaths are ragged and shallow, her heart thudding against time. She is silent, trembling like a leaf as the rich, burnished copper of her skin flushes with anxiety. The veil that rests just below her head exposes stubborn tendrils. Just then, the crash of thunder snakes a sharp shiver down her spine. Aisha remains curled in a fetal position at the far end of the room where she is farthest from the bed and a lone window.

       The air seeping in is cold, so crisp it crackles through the sill, the flimsy curtains doing nothing to quell her incessant quivers. Worse, she could hardly avoid the carnage unfolding before her.

       "Ya Aisha, the child—"

       Aisha startles with a gasp at the sudden voice, her eyes blinking rapidly. She surges upward as if doused with ice water, and a hand comes up to rest at her chest as her head snaps to find a wide-eyed Marwa. Taken aback, the young girl stalls at the mouth of the door where her hands pale under the the iron latch.

       For a moment, Marwa gawks at the tears gushing down Aisha's cheeks then spilling over her chin to drench her veil.

Hesitant, she takes a step back.

       And another.

       With sheepish effort, she pulls her gaze from Aisha's wet cheeks, instantly killing her curiosity. "F-forgive me, I did not mean to wake—"

       Aisha's hand darts up to silence her. She was never asleep, but Aisha did not bother correcting her. Had it been any other person, Marwa would have surely been scolded. She did not deserve the wrath of spoiled noblewomen. Marwa was hard of hearing and usually could not discern right from wrong.

       Much like now.

The storms merely registered as noise, giving the impression someone was present inside the chamber. Aisha had also left the door ajar, which warranted the abrupt entrance. It was an honest mistake, yet for every wrong deed lie punishment and an ironclad rule within the walls of the Qaysi Palace. Handmaids were not to venture into noble quarters without given consent. Aisha was one of few exceptions being that she was a healer well versed in medicine.

       She frantically wipes at the streaks of dried tears inking her face as she rasps, "It is nothing." Plastering on a saccharine smile that doesn't quite reach the swollen flesh of her scarlet eyes, she pivots to face Marwa. "Did you need something?"

       "Sheikha Asma and the child have awoken." Her voice is barely a whisper. "You asked that I summon you the moment they stirred," she says, wringing her hands together, hushed in thought.

       She was not saying something.

       Aisha blanched.

"What's wrong?" Just how did she know something would go awry in her absence? "Marwa?"