Not everything in the heart can be said, so God created sigh, tears, long sleep, cold smile, and shivering of hands.

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"What's the status?"

"Slaughtered, my Ameer."

He runs his finger through the mane of the horse as a small, freezing smile graces his lips. "Did they say something?"

"No matter the torture they're put through, they won't open their mouths."

"Resilient, aren't they?" He pats the back of the horse before moving to the next one. "Every soldier that is to be appointed in Baghdad, I want a report on each."

"As you say, my Ameer."

"Keep me informed of each move made by every official. Those you even doubt the slightest who can betray us, follow them. Find each one of the traitors; their heads will be under my axe."

"And about the generals?"

He looks out to the horses in the stalls, all of them standing tall and strong, well kept in preparation for any calamity that may befall.

"Send me their names. I'll see who stays on their positions and who are to be discharged."

"Nights here pass by in sleeplessness. Days keep me restless. This place in all its glitters and glory must still be hell."

Hafez silently listens to her complaints and sighs of distress as she watches the midday sun shine brilliant in the sky.

"You've got no gossip to distract me?" she asks whilst keeping her sight fixed to the sky, the sun nearly blinding her but she follows the clouds around stubbornly.

"What could I possibly know of your interest, sayidati?"

Noura smirks to herself. "Anything. Maybe about Al Shafay, the queen, your general." She pulls her gaze away from the sky to him. "Or the general's friend."

"The general's friend?" Hafez blinks in puzzlement. "Who do you mean, sayidati?"

"Hadi."

"Al Hadi?"

She hums satisfactorily. "The one."

Hafez looks down, shifting on his feet uneasily. "I told you, sayidati, I'm not allowed to speak of him."

"I'm just curious, Hafez." She walks to the other end of the balcony overlooking the garden; Hafez follows after her. "When I asked Annas, he lied to me about him. When I had asked Eskander, he told me he was a friend-- a merchant."

"The general is being truthful about it."

"Half truthful," Noura corrects. "I don't think he's a merchant. I've seen him at the palace before, with Fereydun. He spoke more like someone of high rank than a merchant."

Hafez doesn't say anything and Noura turns to him. He avoids looking at her.

"Can I ask you something else if you'd be honest with me?"

"If answering you doesn't breach my duties, then I will, sayidati."

Noura smiles ironically, thinking of a way to put forth her question-- a way to extract what she needs to confirm from him.

"What can you do for Eskander, Hafez?"

Hafez looks up, confused by the apparent simplicity of her query. "Anything the general asks of me," he responds.

"Even if it's wrong?" she dares.

"He wouldn't ask of me anything such."

"But if he does then would you do it for him?"

He hesitates, considering her question for a moment before replying, "I think this outlook on right and wrong would differ for everyone, sayidati. If the general asks me for something, then he must consider it the right thing to do, though for others it might be wrong."

"Even if it's treason against the Khalifa?" Noura challenges, and instantly Hafez eyes turn worried and troubled. "If Eskander decides to stand by prince Sulaiman instead of Al Shafay, would you stand by him?"

Hafez once more falls silent, gaze lowered to the floor instead of meeting hers.

"Would you consider it a right thing to do?" Noura adds, urging him to answer.

"Sayidati," he speaks in a hushed voice as if afraid of being heard. "I think if general Eskander stands by the prince, then all the soldiers under him will stand by the prince, not only me."

Her heart makes an abnormal, painful contraction at his declaration. She knows it's not just a bunch of soldiers under him but a whole army. And she remembers Fereydun telling her that these were his men, trained by him, who are ready to die for him. But it will only turn soldiers against each other-- those under him and those who aren't. It will only make the war more bloody.

"That's an entire army," she wonders out in dread. "What about those who aren't under him?"

"The command of the soldiers in Baghdad is primarily with him, but there are more generals and armies for other regions. And then there are special troops of caliph Al Shafay under the command of his trusted men," he awkwardly clears his throat, "like Adam."

"Adam?" Her eyebrows shoot up.

She knows he served Yusuf bin Khalid. She knows he's still dedicated to the crown. And if it comes to picking sides, Adam will undoubtedly choose Al Shafay and that'll bring him against Eskander if war ever breaks loose. The thought of it poisons the air in her lungs.

"You don't have to worry, sayidati," Hafez consoles, as if reading the concern over her face. "In the battlefields, the general fights shoulder to shoulder with us. We all have faith in him and we trust him-- he knows right. I believe he wouldn't jeopardize our lives for nothing. He'll put the kingdom and wellbeing of its people before everything else. So whoever he stands by, he won't stand alone."

His words do nothing to ease her mind.

"Why isn't peace a priority?" she retorts, looking at him in despair. "How much more blood this soil has to absorb in it before flowers bloom on it? Why ruination has to be its destiny?"

Hafez seals his lips and once more lowers his gaze. Either he has no strength to argue with her over the importance of the throne and how men can kill for it, even if brothers, or he simply doesn't have a response.

She leaves the balcony and makes her way to Eskander's chamber. When she arrives there, she finds him absent. The guards at the door informs her that he'll arrive shortly, so she decides to wait for him and gets inside the room.

The curtains are pulled apart and the bright daylight is pouring in through the window. A paper with quill and ink pot lie on a table nearby with the maps laid to one side. Everything else in the room looks neat and untouched, except for that table where he was apparently working.

She walks towards it and stands by the window; the light touches her and she shields her face. Her gaze skims over the materials lying there-- from the maps to the notes and coming to rest on the paper and quill. Eskander was probably writing a letter. She gently unrolls it until the writing is visible to her.

My Ameer,

When my letter finds you, I hope you're in your good health. I would've come to you myself were there not more pressing issues at the palace to hold me back.

Noura quickly retracts her hand, heart thudding like a galloping horse in her chest. From within a few words, she gathers who the letter is directed to, yet she fears to confirm her doubts. But the curiosity she feels compels her to seek more, and she bends her principles as she decides to pry. Her eyes shift to the door in apprehension.

"Ya Rabbi, if my nosiness is to get me killed someday, please let it not be today," she prays silently and picks up the letter, quickly going through it.

Al Shafay is on the hunt for our spies, and in the given circumstances it's best we avoid any risks. With the growing unrest among the people, the situation at the kingdom is critical, as you might be aware. But I'm doing my best to keep things in our favor and so far, everything is in control. I've sent letters to the governors who I expect would support you when opportunity arises. I hope to give you good news soon.

Her throat dries up as she reads the last few lines, the words becoming like piercing echoes in an endless abyss as she holds the letter between her shaking fingers.

Our army is ready to fight for you. Each of our enemies will surrender to us, and as per your will, none will be shown any mercy. I'll stand by you till my last breath, ready to sacrifice for you every drop of my blood. The crown will be yours and the war ours to win. May you rule over this kingdom with justice as the Khalifa, and return to it its lost peace.

Forever faithful to you,

Eskander Teymour.

Noura places the letter back in its place, her mind a hive of chaotic thoughts creating havoc everywhere-- they consumes her entirely.

"Eskander..." She fists her hand over her heart, the ache within her taking her fiber by fiber. "So you're a spy of Sulaiman bin Khalid. You made your choice long before. It was always the prince."

She exhales a shuddering breath. All this while, he has been strategizing for a rebellion-- a treason meant to betray Al Shafay. And though he made his intentions clear to her, laying out his reasons and expressing his opinion as to why, it's still bitter to swallow learning what he has been involved in. Most of all, how he has been playing with the fire.

Voices coming from outside the door alerts her. She moves away from the table as Eskander enters the chamber, speaking to another man.

"We need to strengthen our armies in Baghdad. If the capital is besieged, nothing else remains. I need more of my men here."

He spots her and stops talking. Noura forces out a naive smile, and he dismisses the man with a wave of his hand. He tips his head and leaves them alone.

"Nour?" Eskander moves towards her, his gaze swiftly moving to the letter on the table before finding her again.

"I came to speak to you about something but you weren't here," she tells him calmly, trying to keep her composure collected.

"Ameer Zakariya called me to discuss some matters." He stops in front of her. "Is everything alright?"

She wants to scream and tell him nothing is-- that he's walking on a thin thread that might snap anytime. She wants to ask him to leave everything behind and just go home with her-- to not throw himself between this fight for the throne. But despite her anguish, she keeps the smile plastered on her face.

"I wanted to go to the bazar. There are a few things I need to buy. But I'm not allowed to leave the palace without a royal guard," she tells him.

"Do you need to go now?"

Initially, she intended on going today. But suddenly today doesn't seem to be a good day anymore. So she shakes her head in refusal, desperately praying Hadi wouldn't unexpectedly drop at the palace to make her life anymore harder than how it already is.

"Not today."

"Well, whenever you need to go, let me know. If I'm available, I'll go with you myself." Eskander smiles and gently pats her cheek. "If not, I'll send someone trustworthy with you. But remember, keep Hafez with you all the time. I trust that man more than any royal guard."

Noura nods at him and he goes to pick up the letter. She watches as he puts it in a case and tucks it under his belt.

"I've to go train men at the barracks now. If I return early at the evening, we can have dinner together," he suggests.

She once more only replies with a nod, unable to think past the letter.

The both leave the chamber and walk through the corridor to the intersection. Eskander turns to her.

"Take care of yourself, for me."

"You too," she replies, meaning it sincerely, knowing he needs it more than her given how he's recklessly gambling on his life at the palace.

He leans down to peck her forehead and Noura closes her eyes momentarily, relishing in the warmth of his gesture. But like always, it's too fleeting to last forever.

"See you at the dinner." He pulls away. "If I'm caught up and get late, then don't wait for me and eat, azizem." He turns to where Hafez is standing and utters lowly to him, "Stay close by her. Don't leave her side for a minute."

"As you wish, sayidi."

Noura watches him leave and as she stands there, a feeling as if she herself is being watched suddenly making the hair on her neck stand in alarm. She cranes her neck, looking around, but finds no one. Though the unsettling feeling remains.

Gathering her dress, she turns in the opposite direction and she makes her way to her own chamber, the walls of the palace like always singing songs of desolation.

When night falls and Eskander doesn't return, she takes a glass of milk and goes to bed. Her appetite and sleep are both thin and far from her mind, her mind a murk of thoughts both dark and bleak. She keeps tossing and turning in her bed in an attempt to disconnect from reality, but eventually gives up after many failed efforts and gets out of the bed.

The moonlight shines in through the window. Noura goes to stand by the window-seat, clutching her pendent in her hand, the name of God held tight in her fist. Whatever fate has to bestow upon them, she's not sure if she's ready for it.

Slipping on her robe and grabbing her dagger, she gets out of her chamber. Hafez comes to attention instantly.

"Sayidati?"

"Has Eskander returned?"

"Yes, he's negotiating some matters with a general sent by the governor of Fars," he informs her. "Should I send him a message if you want to see him?"

"No." She starts walking ahead. "I'm going to see Adam."

Hafez cannot hide his malcontent to her announcement, features tensing up and hand falling naturally to his sword. "I beg your pardon, sayidati, but I don't think it's appropriate."

She doesn't know if he's say so referring to the hour of the night or after what he witnessed at the dawn that has him uptight, much regrettably, but she doesn't stop at his protest.

"You can come with me, Hafez, or you can go inform Eskander what I'm up to," she says, weary of the blade at her throat.

Hafez dithers, but then follows after her quietly. He escorts her to Adam's room and goes to stand good distance away from there where no one can see him, by now accustomed to the process.

Noura takes a deep breath, readying herself before entering his room, their last encounter still feeling like burning embers on her nerves. But growing voices coming from the other end of the corridor sends her into panic and she once more barges into his room without knocking.

"My apologies!" She quickly turns around upon finding him tying the knot of his trousers, her face burning in shame and embarrassment. She always has to walk in on him at the worst timings. After waiting a moment, she asks, "Are you done?"

"Yes." His voice comes from right beside her ear and she nearly stumbles forward. Noura pulls away hurriedly, startled, and turns towards him. "Getting comfortable crashing in my room--"

"Shhhh." She covers his mouth with her hand. "There are guards outside. I don't want anyone to know I'm here."

To her surprise and annoyance, he licks her palm and she jerks away from him, glaring murderously at him as she wipes her palm over his bare arm before smacking him across his chest.

"You perverted madman," Noura hisses.

This makes him chuckle in amusement before he responds in a hushed tone, "Let me wear my shirt before you find new scars on my body to go assassin on me."

"Still denying it, I see."

"God knows how many people you've slashed in your life. You can't accuse me to be all of them."

Noura once more eyes the scar on his arm as he moves towards the bed, undeterred by his refusal, still persistent in her doubts that doesn't even need his admittance to assure her. Yet still, she seeks it from him, as if somewhere a frail hope lingers that he might be innocent. She looks away as he slips on his shirt.

"I couldn't sleep," she says. "There's something that troubles me."

"Should I feel honored that you came to me with your troubles thinking I can ease them," he saunters towards her, "or worried that you're about to drag me in the said troubles too?"

She gives him a cutting look. "I only wished to speak to you about it. Would you just listen to me instead of smart-mouthing me?"

He stops before her and leans down. She leans away instinctively. Adam reaches forward as if to touch her face, and she inhales sharply. But instead, he reaches behind her to slam the door shut, smirking down at her as her cheeks once more heat up in mortification.

"With pleasure, habibti."

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Too much drama to write, too little time on my hands.

Keep sharing your love.

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