The moon is lonely

The galaxy is lonely

On the night of separation

The sky is lonely

—

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"You're leaving?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Where is your home?"

"Faraway."

She blinks at his reply, her big brown eyes both curious and sad as she stares at him. "Will you come back?" she asks after a while.

"I don't know. I'll ask baba."

She pouts, clearly upset, drawing lines in the sand with the stick in her hand. "But you said we can be king and queen?"

He looks at her, not knowing what to say to her to comfort her. Then, he sheepishly pats her head. "I'll come back soon. I'll bring you a crown with me too."

She ponders for a moment, then grins at him in excitement and nods. "I'll wait here."

"At the palace?"

"Yes. Baba says Baghdad is our home."

"The first time I saw you was in the bazaar of Isfahan. You were with your mother. I didn't recognize you, and that day we could've been mere passersby were she not with you. She called you by your name and got my attention. I recognized her at once. And then you, at second sight. When my eyes fell upon you again, wallahi they had been seeking you ever since. You burnt my heart, Noura."

The winds in the sky howl. Then they go silent. His words echo off the heavens back at her. She stares blankly ahead into space though his presence beside her feels ablazed. She allows him an explanation without a promise of redemption or forgiveness.

"I was in Isfahan looking for Yusuf. We hadn't found him back then, but my men had found Buraq there, and so I went in his search. But we were unsuccessful in locating him and decided to return to Baghdad. I wasn't supposed to stay any longer, but I did. God, I did. Because I had found you."

Things don't make complete sense to her. What he tells her sounds like a half made puzzle to her. But she waits for him to fix the puzzle himself rather than finding answers and led into deception again.

"You were memoir of my past-- of a blissful time. Looking at you made me happy. Looking at you reminded me of my beautiful days. You made me forget everything. You suspended me into oblivion. I liked that feeling. I liked being around you."

"So you decided to keep me as a souvenir of your past?" she finally speaks, slowly shifting her gaze to him.

He meets her eyes, the look in them both vacant and raw. "Yes," he replies honestly, tersely. "Call it infatuation, obsession, deliration. Whatever name you want to give it. You can call it madness, habibti. But it brought me to my knees. It compelled me to do what I did."

The space between them is small. He's only a touch away, the dark of the night caressing his face and kissing his orbs. His hair is not tied and its long strands fall forward. She would've grazed his cheeks, pushed back his hair, and smiled at him. She would've loved him like she had learnt to before reaching the end of the line. But it doesn't seem possible now.

"So what is this past, sayidi? What is so beautiful about it that you had to make my life ugly for it?"

"Don't do this. It hurts me." He reaches for her but she pulls away. "Noura," he says his name in a soft request, pleading with her. "Please don't do this to me."

"All that is between us is what you did. It was never me." She chuckles sardonically. "What am I against you, sayidi? You're the Khalifa, and I'm a nameless girl from the streets of your kingdom. If you wish, you keep me captive. If you take pity on me, you return to me my freedom. What might do I have when you're the mighty one against me?"

"You're my queen. You're the Malika of my kingdom. If there's no you, I'm a beggar than a king in the streets of Baghdad, hayati." He scoots closer cautiously as if afraid of scaring her off. She doesn't budge and he dares to take her hand into his. "Crown me with your love. Give me the throne of your heart. You're my kingdom and beyond. Make me your caliph, Noura."

She glances away from him, blinking, trying to push back any tears that once more try to break through. Noura bites her lips, no response on her tongue to offer him.

"Noura." He slowly leans towards her and puts his forehead against her shoulder. "Don't leave me. I need you. You soothe my heart. You calm my mind. Stay with me, please."

Her name sounds like worship every time he says it. It sounds holy from his mouth. But at the same time it feels like a caged bird which she cannot free and he doesn't want to free. What frightens her is how sweet the name still sounds from his prison.

"Who are you?" She inhales shakily and shuts her eyes. "Who are you, sayidi?"

"Adam." He lifts his face and she turns hers, finding only a breath distance between them. "I'm Adam to you, Noura."

"I don't know Adam."

"Tell me then that night your eyes didn't speak of love to me," he challenges, reminding her of a tender moment. "Tell me I imagined the look in them-- that you didn't hold me beloved to you."

She purses her lips, not responding, and he proceeds.

"Wouldn't you look at me the same again, Noura? What do I do to make up for my mistake?"

Love is a dangerous thing. Lethal. Catastrophic. She cannot find any anymore stronger word for it. But what she feels for him, it feels like an explosion in her chest. It's intense. She's fears it'll tear apart her heart. She worries her resolve is fragile-- that she cannot resist him if it goes on. He has broken her, bluffed her, and done irreparable damage which cannot be undone. How can she still yearn for him and want to forget? She cannot yet forgive.

"I fell for a man who's not you," she says quietly. "You're not him. And I can never be myself again."

He only stares at her. The world spins around them but they seemingly have frozen in time. He remains unmoving, like a stone statue, and she wonders what goes on behind those deluding orbs. Then the ice appears to thaw and time moves forward. He turns the sands of time and takes her through the past.

"I don't remember how old exactly I was when I first met you at the palace. I was a little boy, very meek and shy, and didn't really like to mingle with other. You were a contrast to me, fierce and spirited, and always getting yourself in trouble." He smiles to himself and she gazes at him. "I was playing by myself one day in the garden. Back then my family was staying in Baghdad for some time so we lived at the palace. You found me out of nowhere and asked for my name. I tried to ignore you but you wouldn't leave. You poked me with a stick and tried to get me to talking. When I wouldn't, you gave me a name of your own and welcomed yourself to play with me."

A glimpse so vague grazes her mind, she barely catches the details of it. But it's there, like a faded mark, a feeble cry, trying to claw its way out from the niches of her memory. Noura struggles to dig deeper, know more, paint the gray areas of the portrait. There are only scraps, the depth remains unreachable, but what he's telling her still sings a song familiar to her.

"Afterwards that's what you would do-- find me, play with me, and sometimes tell me stories and teach me poems that your father had taught you."

"This poem I've taught you," she mumbles. "Butterflies... is that why you call me farasha?"

"Yes."

"You remember." She smiles unknowingly. "How do you remember? I forgot long ago. I felt as if I lost something dear to me, only left with half of it. Eskander didn't remember either. It made me sad. It made me feel as if I buried it with my father and lost a part of him."

"I don't know. Maybe I'd think of those days too much," he mumbles back, as if telling her a secret he's embarrassed of. "You were my friend. I didn't have any siblings. Before you, there was Arwa. Then my family came to live in Baghdad. I felt lonely. But I was used to it so I didn't bother making friends. Yusuf was much older than me. Sulaiman always preferred to be with Eskander. There were other boys, but I was new, and I wasn't really outgoing. You found me-- you became my first friend."

"And I sang to you this poem?"

"You did."

"I've always loved it. I'd sing it every time, to everyone. No surprise I etched it into your memory."

Adam smiles at her, edging closer some more, letting his nose bump against her jaw. "You were the butterfly in the first half of the poem, I was the nightingale."

Her heart leaps in its cage, thudding violently, going berserk as nostalgia chokes her. She shudder as his breath tingles her skin, continuing to reminisce.

"You were the queen in the second half, I was the king."

Her hands fists her dress. Adam nestles his face against the crook of her neck. Why is she so helpless against him? Why can't she tear herself apart from him? What is it that he's telling her? It stains all reasons for her.

"I don't know if you can recall any of it, but I haven't forgotten," he tells her. "Those are the only memories golden and precious to me. I treasure them. I've nothing more beautiful from my past."

"I remember," she admits in a whisper, and he stills. "A little. But I do. I remember you."

"You do?"

"I was a child, so were you. I wanted to be a queen. How many times did I even tell you or anyone else that? I don't know. But the desire dulled with time. It became only a foolish dream of a youngster. It didn't seem possible anymore."

"Until now?"

"Until you." She pulls back and looks at him. He returns her look longingly. Noura brings her fingers to his cheek, letting them hover but not touch. "What have you done? Who have you become?"

"Didn't I tell you I can be a caliph one day?"

"Did you really not forget?"

"No."

"Who could have thought the prince who tried to hide from the people would come to rule them?" She tilts her head, her mind abuzz as she solves his mystery. "You were so... soft. You've grown to be so different. I could never have guessed."

"Things changed. I changed." He presses his cheek into her palm. "I lost everything. My parents were killed during the rebellion. I was captured and sold as a slave. It could've been an end, but I fought back. It changed me from a royal kid into a rough man. I didn't give up. And though it has been a difficult time, but it passed, and eventually my Lord gave me the dominion over this kingdom."

Noura searches his face, as if finding a trace of a child he claims to be, but there seems to be nothing left. It disappoints her a little. She doesn't know what she's hoping for. Maybe goodness. Maybe a reason to forgive-- to hold onto his love.

"Joojoo? That was the name I gave you, isn't it?" She clicks her tongue in dismay. "I never got to learn your name."

"I never told you."

"How different things might have been if I remembered you as you remembered me. If I had known you. But I let you die off my memory so easily, didn't I?"

She tries to lower her hand but he holds her wrist, keeping it in its place. Noura doesn't resist him.

"You were young. You were loved. Who is to blame you for forgetting a nameless boy?"

"But you forced me into the picture again," she points out. "You were outside my house that dusk? I slashed you. You dropped your seal with me so you could accuse me for theft and bring me to the palace."

He responds with silence. There's a long pause and she assumes he might deny as before but he admits instead, surprising her.

"True. I needed a reason to bring you to the palace, but there was none. So I created one."

Feeling hurt once more, she backs away from him, carefully tugging free her hand from his grip. "I asked you before, but you lied to me."

"Why would I allow anything to happen that could separate you from me? I wanted to push the possibility as far away as possible, knowing the consequences of this revelation, no matter if inevitable."

"And our marriage?"

"No one knew Al Shafay, but everyone thought I was his closest confident. So if someone needed to send a message to the caliph, they'd come to me, and I'd know every matter directly from them," he tells her. I knew you would come to me for help too. I knew you didn't want to marry Al Shafay. That night when you came to me, if you hadn't proposed the plan of marrying me, I would've suggested it myself. What threw me off guard was that you had discovered about my relationship with Arwa, and if the secret was out, it could've created problems for me. I couldn't explain our relationship without exposing my identity in the process."

"So, who is the queen to you?" she asks intently, determined to get the truth from him this time.

"An older sister."

Shocked, Noura can only gape at him. Then gathering herself, she inquires further. "How? Princess Halah didn't have a child besides a son, and Arwa bint Atta isn't your father's daughter either."

"We've a milk kinship," he clarifies. "We were breastfed by the same woman and grew up together."

Noura takes a moment to recover from another shock. Certainly she was more keen on running away than stopping by to reflect, as Muawwiz had stated. There was a possibility of her finding answers, no matter if it was slight given the man she was fighting against. So deceptively innocent. So devilishly cunning. He been carrying her on his fingertips and she has only been following in the direction he wished her to go in.

"I was selfish before, azizi," he adds, his fingers once more grazing her hand. "I didn't know what love was. What I did, I did wrong, I've realized that. But I'm lonely without you. I've no one besides you. And even though I agreed to send you back home, I want you to be with me, here in Baghdad. I want us to be together."

"And my mother?" She turns to him, feeling hollow inside. "The war for the throne? Eskander and Al Hadi? What happens to everything?"

"I'll fix it all," he promises, taking her face in his hands and fixing her eyes, urging her to agree. "Have faith in me. I just need one more chance, farasha. If you're with me, I can survive anything. Stay, Noura, with me." He bends down to kiss the corner of her mouth, then peppering her jaw before coming to her neck, murmuring, "I love you. Insanely. Maddeningly. If I was obsessed with you before, now I'm possessed by you. God, I don't know what it is, but it scares me. Death doesn't do so, but the thought of you leaving me scares me. How do I live without you now when I've learnt to live with you."

What does she tell him? What strength does a promise hold against betrayal? What love is so boundless to heal heartache? Maybe she needs time to accept all of it. Maybe she needs to recover before restarting. And maybe he will too. After all, there are things about her he doesn't know either. And she knows if there's one thing which he doesn't forgive, it's betrayal. She can still very well recall him telling her that when they had first met.

Then what name does she give to keeping the secret of Sulaiman bin Khalid? Knowing about Eskander's treason but protecting him? About Fereydun aiding rebels? She has no explanation for him. Neither does she has a heart to lose his love.

But the truth is there, and eventually it will come out. There's no point in getting into another chase when the outcome is inevitable. So she decides to take the leap of fate and undo the knot when they're both at it. Noura inhales deeply to prepare herself and pushes him away from herself gently.

"Sayidi, what if I give you a reason to send me away?"

Adam frowns at her, confusion tinting his orbs, and for a flicker of second she hesitates, conflicted over laying it all before him and risking losing him forever, the thought an axe to her heart as she reconsiders.

What if he doesn't forgive her? What if it is him who leaves her? No matter his betrayal and her heartbreak, but she loves him. As insanely and as maddeningly as he confessed to love her-- no less. She cannot imagine a life without him anymore. He has shattered the possibility of another man for her.

"What do you mean?" he asks, and her throat grows dry.

But if she bluffs him as he has bluffed her, how long can it go before all bridges are burnt and there's no way to return? Before the fire consumes them both and nothing is left to be saved?

She too has long been a traitor to him. She cannot be anymore.

"I knew about Eskander and Al Hadi," she finally blurts out and turns away from him, losing all courage to continue looking at him in the eyes. "I learnt long ago but I kept the truth from you."

And suddenly his touch that has been seeking her turns cold. And just like that the distance between them isn't anymore that of a mere touch but turns to countless separating years.

Noura realizes that the Adam whom she knows is no more but the man in front of her is solely Al Shafay. And that Al Shafay is the Khalifa, a man still unknown to her, while her lover whom she knows she cannot recognize into him.

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Last chapter left and it has some surprises for you. I'm so excited about finally finishing the book.

Any theories about the ending? Let's see if you can guess it right.

I've had multiple requests to write from Al Shafay's/Adam's pov, so I might write a bonus chapter or two if I get motivation and time to do so. But if you've any special requests for the scenes, either from the book or otherwise, drop them for me and I'll consider them.

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