CHAPTER SEVEN

IT WAS A WEEK BEFORE Mazeeda woke up and found a middle aged woman sitting next to her. The queen sat up in her cushioned seat, frightened and surprised. She had gotten use to Adelah and Nylah.

The woman offered a warm cup of black tea.

She took it cautiously.

“Do you sleep on this long furniture often?” The elderly women asked. Her forehead created the slightest wrinkle, like the ripples in the sand. Her skin nearly matched Mazeeda’s.

The dress she wore suggested that this mixed age woman was of high authority. It was a simple nude dress with white embroidered flowers at the hems.

“No,” her voice cracked before she coughed it out. “But the bed does not suit me at the moment.”

She thought back to that night where Khai's strong hands wrapped around her neck. His nails digging into her skin. The burning sensation that formed during and after the incident.

The Caliph hasn't come into her room since.

The bruise was finally disappearing with the help of Adelah’s special ointment.

The older lady did not question Mazeeda and she appreciated it. “Who are you, if I may ask?”

The lady smiled sadly at her, her hazel eyes catching the light effortlessly. “Well, it seems like the bill has come due to finally meet my grandson's wife. I can't keep avoiding such a thing now that it's been a week.”

Mazeeda didn't know how to react, just like when she was younger. She was helping Sokath feed the herd of sheep when out came a lioness. She was about to scare it off when her brother stopped her.

He had told her, “Let the lioness do what she wants with the herd, but never, never the lion. Do you hear me, Zeeda?”

She nodded out of instinct as she watched the lioness prey on the herd.

“Because the lioness are the ones who hunt for their pride, so let them be. But if a lion were to come, scare it off.”

Mazeeda fumbled with her words. “My lady. My queen. My-”

The senior laughed. “Oh no need for that, I'm too old. Ezra is my name. I would like to have lunch with you this evening. I'd like to get to know you and see why my grandson is so intrigued by you to keep you alive.”

“Oh, of course.” The storyteller didn't know if she should be offended or not.

Ezra clasped her wrinkled hands together. “Very well. I look forward to it.”

Upon meeting Khai's grandmother, Adelah braided Mazeeda’s hair into a perfect crown while Nylah picked out a refined silver dress with gold embroidering. A black sash went around her hips, wrapped tightly like an anaconda.

The regular door guard guided her to the garden where the lioness stood proud. She made her way to Ezra, who was sitting under a cherry tree. Mazeeda sat on her knees as she adjusted her dress. The grass beneath her was soft, nothing like the rough gritty sand back home.

She could get used to such a feeling.

The old queen offered her a plate of roasted figs. “You must be famished.”

The Malika shook her head. “No, no. I'm fine,” she said as she took one off the plate.

“Tell me, Mazeeda, what have you heard of my grandson?” Ezra was captivated by Khai's wife and was eager to know what she thought of him. It was such a rare thing for him to allow any girl to live past a day in the qasr.

This made the late queen have hope. Something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Mazeeda really thought about it. In her village, no one seemed to care or mention the Caliph until they took her. “I have not heard many rumors about my husband, but my father has. And he told me that the king used to be an exceptional hunter before he decided to hunt girls.”

Ezra smiled woefully at the memories engraved in her mind, as if it were just yesterday. “Yes, he was. The best I've ever seen since my own husband, Ahmed. Even my son -Khai's father, Omari- knew it too. So he paid every trainer to make his son the best in Yaheisea. He was surely going to be the best Caliph Yaheisea has seen in a long time.”

“What happened?” she questioned her grandmother-in-law. This seemed like the only time she could get answers that would actually make sense. Zaabit, Amon, her maids, and Khai himself refused to answer her questions.

The sage woman took a sip of her sweet rose water. “You see, that part always baffles my mind. But I shall tell you this-”

Mazeeda leaned forwards.

“-three years ago when we had our annual starfall, my beloved grandson had changed. I knew it as I know when a sea storm will come. That's when he began to take such young women to this qasr, only to kill them as the next dawn rose shyly with his dagger.”

“Always with his dagger?” Things only got extremely complicated from here. The Malika was guiding herself into a sand quick she would never get out from.

“Yes. It was a gift from…” Ezra hesitated. She knew the name, she was thinking about it just now, but it was gone before she even knew it. “My apologies, Calipha. But her name always slipped my mind. I do not know why.”

And then her mind was pulling Mazeeda back to her first and second night with Khai. To his outfit. To his wrist. That copper bracelet. Surely it must be from the same mysterious lady.

Could it really be possible? She asked herself. “My lady, if I may-”

An amateur arrow pierced through her expensive dress.

Mazeeda grabbed at it and looked up. In the distant she saw a small figure running towards her. Towards the arrow in her hand.

She examined it. It was no real one, she could tell, instead a training one. And it left no real damage she knew her maids could not fix.

“That's my arrow!” An innocent and strong-willed voice yelled out.

The Calipha looked up and found a small girl shy of six with a bow swung behind her back. Her long silky brown hair was kept up in a ponytail and her breeches and tunic dirty. Her face was chiselled and strong for her age.

It reminded her of Khai's.

Mazeeda stuck out her hand and the little girl took it, her skin a light tan color. “Thank you.”

She could only nod. As a storyteller, she knew better than to assume things. But this young child did have Khai's face structure, yet that was all. Her mind thought back to what Ezra said about a mysterious lady. Maybe, just maybe it could be their child together.

“Oh, Sonya come here,” the late queen beckoned. When the girl walked over, Ezra hugged her. “What do you have here?”

Sonya huffed out her chest as she held out the arrow in display. “Father's teaching me archery.”

She laughed. “Is he now?” she turned to the utterly confused Mazeeda. “Tell me flower, have you met the queen yet?”

The young archer shook her head. “Father tells me nothing.” She looked at the woman in the grey dress.

Ezra pulled Sonya closer to her, resting her silver head onto her narrow waist. “Well, isn't this splendid then? Here sitting besides me is Mazeeda, the queen. She's-”

The Malika stuck her finger up, feeling her face heating up as she rudely interrupted. “If I may ask-”

“Sonya!” A modulated and strong voice called out from around the bush. “Have you found your arrow?”

That voice.

“Father!” Sonya yelled in jubilance.

Mazeeda knew that voice.