[quote=@persianversion]
There were many reasons to draw her hand from Ketill’s grasp. The shock of being grabbed, the sudden realization that a male slave had dared to touch a Sultana, but these were not the reasons she flinched. Ketill’s grip did not hurt, after all, it was not intended to, but it pressed her golden bracelets into the yellowed bruises. It was this sudden pain that caused her to flinch, as if attempting to pull her hand out of his. The reaction would only last a brief moment before her thoughts were able to return to her, and Najla would not struggle, unwilling to draw any attention to this matter.

When he released her, Najla was quick to pull her hand back towards her, though her eyes remained on Ketill. Though not much of her face was visible, she was certain Ketill would be able to read to mixture of curiosity and anger through her eyes. She was rather unused to having her conversations with slaves dictated by anything other than her own will, to end once she had obtained her desires. This was easily demonstrated by the way she waved off the guard’s concerns, not even sparing them a glance when she brushed them off.

[i]<“Yes, stay there.”>[/i]

Her gaze never left Ketill as he moved to stand, his stature forcing her to look up in order to maintain eye contact. Something had shifted, not in Ketill himself, but she did not need her slave’s words to tell her just what it was. He had a way of shedding the reality of the situation to present himself as her equal, though Najla’s gaze made it clear that she did not buy it. She was not angered by his demands, nor was she angered that he knew she’d spoken to the girl, or at least, she would not show it. Anger was not always a strength, here it would only prove how far out of her grip Ketill truly was. Instead, her gaze reflected something akin to amusement, as if she was simply humoring her slave, and the tone of her words would quickly follow suit.

[i]“You like her that much? I would not have guessed.” [/i]

She smiled slightly even as she reached down, grasping the wrist Ketill had touched with her other hand. Najla did not even spare a glance at Thamud, apparently uncaring that Ketill knew of her intentions. It would not matter, so long as he was able to help end Thamud without the use of a fire. If Najla had to promise a harem girl to guarantee that, she would. The girl would not be entirely ungrateful either, Najla imagined. After she’d been given to the Servant before, there was no chance she would become a permanent fixture in the harem, not when the only way to do so was by binding oneself to the Sultan. The Sultan would never be given the leftovers of a Servant, and though Najla might have found another use for her, Ketill was offering her a protection beyond that guesswork, though Najla did not know if he knew this. She could not imagine he had delved too deeply into the politics of the harem, most men did not care to look further than the women inside. 

[i]“You are correct however, it would be easy. Whether it is wise, I do not know. If you are so confident in your fate that you would tie hers to it..”[/i] Najla trailed off here, allowing a pause while she studied Ketill’s reaction. There was nothing in her tone that would indicate her words had been spoken as a threat, even though there were plenty of reasons for Ketill to assume such. There was a truth in it however, for while Najla was not so cruel as to lash the girl for Ketill’s crimes, she would have no future in the palace without Ketill now. [i]“Then you can have her. I will speak to her upon our return, and no more afterwards.”[/i]

Though her words would sound as if she agreed not to speak to the girl any longer, it would be a lie. There was little need to do so, for Najla knew that Ketill was not so ignorant. At least, if she had believed him dense before, his recent behavior had reminded her that perhaps she was dealing with a man and not a bear after all. It would be troubling, but at least a man wanted for something. It clearly surprised Najla that it had been a girl, for she knew personally that women were not a particular vice of Ketill’s, or at least, she had not been. Perhaps he appreciated her Broacienian heritage, though Najla did not care enough to understand this now. She had not even cared enough to learn if the girls name was real, for many harem girls were given names upon their entrance, especially those with names considered harsh to the ears, like those in the Broacienian tongue. It was not information that would allow her to control Ketill, and therefore, it was of little use to her. 

[i]“I should punish you for touching me.”[/i] She lifted her wrist slightly then, releasing it, though she was careful as always not to let her bracelets or the fabric slide too far towards her elbow. [i]“I should. You are not my blood or my husband, to touch a Sultana otherwise is simply not permissible. I could do far worse than deny you a request for this, most would take your hand. Or finger.”[/i] She was not lying, yet it was clear that she was not threatening him. He had offered to give his finger for her once, long before. She had not wanted it then, and she certainly did not want it now. [i]“I suppose having you walk will be enough. If it should happen again, I assure you that will not be the case. But for now, for him-”[/i] she finally glanced over at Thamud then, though it was a brief glance before she turned back to look at Ketill. There was no need to play dumb now, they both knew the truth, and none around her would understand.

[i]“I will grant you the girl, and some leniency. Come.” [/i]

It was a rather abrupt conclusion to their conversation, but once Najla was satisfied that all of Ketill’s demands had been sated, they would quickly move to join those by the fire and begin the ritual. Najla could see her guard, holding the blade she was to cut herself with, and before she could turn to look upon Ketill as well, she felt Zahira at her shoulder. 

[i]<“Najla.”> 

<“Ya Sawarim, are you trying to stop my heart?”>[/i] The sound of a sudden voice in her ear had apparently startled her, but Zahira would not reply to this, only grinning briefly before she continued to whisper.

[i]<“It’s done. I saw, it’s dried, there will be no trace left.”>

<“And it’s on the right one? I would hate to slice my forehead on that.”>

<“Believe me cousin, I know the difference between a knife and a sword, even if my husband doesn't.”>[/i]

Zahira’s comment nearly drew a splutter of laughter from Najla, though she quickly moved to silence herself before any could hear. This was not a somber moment, for there were few present who knew someone would die that night, though many worried about it. Regardless, it would still seem strange to have Najla in such high spirits, and she was grateful that Zahira had already slunk back to her husband’s side. It was lucky that Zahira cared so little for her brother-in-law’s fate however, for none would assume they had spoken of anything but gossip and jokes now.

She quickly moved to the side of Thamud’s first wife, and they both kneeled to perform the ritual. Both of them did so with practiced hands, following a line they’d followed before. Najla would not speak to Ketill. She had no words left to say to him. Instead, she would move to take a seat beside her brother and the envoys from the Banu Dunya, who looked quite excited to see the coming events.

[i]<“You have seen the Servant fight before, Sultana. Will you tell me truthfully, do you believe Thamud can win?”> [/i]

The look in Najla’s eyes as they met Ramzi’s would have been answer enough. Despite the horrors she’d witnessed Ketill perform, and despite her worry that she would have to see it happen again, there was a hint of amusement in her gaze. It was nothing like that which she had shown Ketill, a way to conceal her anger before the others, but an amusement that was born out of disbelief, as if Thamud’s success was a laughable option.

[i]<“I will not say he has no chance. To make such an assumption would be foolish, I have never seen Thamud Khan fight. I have also never seen the Servant lose.”>

<“What of your brother? Basim Sultanim, may I ask what you think?”>

<“Hmm?”>[/i] Basim turned his head towards Ramzi, only to glance back up at Najla before replying. He seemed rather distracted, though Najla has been quick to assume it was simply a combination of the alcohol and dread for the violence to come. Her eyes were expectant when she returned her brother’s gaze, waiting for an answer. It took a second too long to come, and Najla felt as if she caught something in her brother’s expression that had not been there before, something akin to distaste. It occupied her mind even as Basim finally moved to answer the question.

[i]<“Ketill will win. I have no doubts about that.”>[/i]

While Ramzi seemed pleased at the Prince’s certainty, Najla was rather confused by his straightforward answer. She leaned down then, whispering in her brother’s ear.

[i]<“My blood, relax. Ketill has agreed to fight to first blood, and I believe he will do so. Trust me, no one will die tonight. You need not worry.”>[/i]

[i]<“May God will it so.”>[/i]

It was a strange answer to her question, but Najla was quick to assume that Basim was simply worried about Ketill. Truthfully, she was still somewhat worried as well, despite the fact that Ketill had already made a demand. She would not give him the girl if he killed Thamud here, there was no doubt as to that. However, Najla did not know if he cared about the harem girl enough to forego another taste of blood, and this was where her fears sat as she turned her gaze back to the fighters as they prepared. Basim would do nothing to clarify his worries either, and Najla would forget his strange behavior as the fight began, for greater worries would come quickly to replace it.

[hr]

Almost instantly, Najla saw her hopes realized. While those around her watched with horror, Najla urged Thamud forward in her mind. He came closer to the sword, only to stop just before he could have impaled himself. While the rest of the audience seemed to let out a sigh of relief, Najla found herself tense up as the pair separated and stepped back, circling around each other. Surely, it would not have looked good if it had ended so early, however waiting to see what would happen was far worse. 

She watched the swift movements of their blades with fascination, her eyes struggling to keep up with the flashes of metal. Each scrape of the blades felt as if it was scraping against her very skin, a reminder that this fight had to go a very specific way for her. As she watched Ketill’s fist fly towards Thamud’s face, Najla’s heart stopped. It could not end this way, she could not afford for it to end this way. The brief seconds felt like hours, only for Thamud to raise his hands. She did not need to hear his yell, nor the encouraging shouts of the crowd, for all Najla could hear was her own sharp exhale. 

[i]<“Are you worried, Sultana?”>[/i] The voice in her ear caused Najla to turn her head, and she found herself face-to-face with Ramzi. He was close, too close, but Najla would respond before she pulled away. [i]<“Of course. I’m tired of seeing my Servant win.”>[/i]

Even as she straightened up, Najla watched as Ketill brought his blade down once more. Finally. He could not recover from this one, she knew, Ketill had driven the poison in too deep. It would have been enough for a final sigh of relief, but instead, she found that Ketill was not entirely finished with Thamud. As she watched him drop his sword, walking towards Thamud, Najla wanted to stand, to call the guards and pull them apart before he could toss him in. There was no time, no voice that came from her throat, and instead she watched helplessly, only praying that Ketill would not throw him in. A glance at Basim would show such similar worry on his expression, waiting to see what Ketill would do.

[i]Ya Sawarim, Ya Umma, I beg of you, do not let the fire consume him. Force your will on the infidel, make him draw back.[/i]

It seemed however, that she had mistaken her slave’s will. The disrespect Ketill showed Thamud was easily apparent, especially when he kneeled down beside him, speaking words Najla was sure she’d never know.  However, Najla showed no anger at his actions. Now, she was only pleased that he’d decided to stand up, to leave Thamud alone, what did it matter how he did it? Perhaps she’d find herself angry at such actions later, but now, Najla was hard-pressed to hide the pleasure from her expression. 

[i]<“I’ve seen many warriors in my life, but never one like that. I see now why Basim Sultanim was so certain, Thamud could not have stood a chance.”>

<“He’s not a warrior, Ramzi my friend. He’s a beast.”>[/i]

 [hr]

The Sawarim people certainly held a penchant for rituals, a focus that hinted at a deeply-held care for the image they presented to their peers. Most of the Sultanate’s people would never fully understand how deeply their image and rituals were intertwined, but the royal family did not hold this option of ignorance. It was for this reason that Najla pulled herself out of bed early, despite the toll the past few days had brought upon her, readying herself for the day’s events. The notion of her image was ever-present in her mind, and so despite the heat and her overall exhaustion, she would never show it, not even during the endless stream of farewells.

She had gone to visit Yazan’s family first. Here, she met with them alone, without her cousin or brother present, and any detail regarding his wife’s Mahriyeh was sorted. The girl was grateful, though Najla did not know how much of that was truthful. It wasn’t as if she could have let the Sultana go without thanking her, yet Najla did not know if she’d ever be forgiven for taking her husband away. It brought her no grief to think it, and Najla would go to visit Thamud next, continuing to follow the trail of blood she’d left behind here.

He was surrounded by his family, and first wife sat beside him, and Najla could feel the girls eyes upon her until she would exit Thamud’s tent for the last time. Perhaps they had expected the Sultana to apologize for her slave’s disrespect, or at least mitigate the damage in some way. They’d find that Najla had no such intentions to make an apology. She did not even acknowledge Ketill’s actions, focusing her attention on Thamud’s wound. He insisted it would heal, and Najla agreed, pretending not to notice the first symptoms setting in. The area around the cut was red and swollen, and though it would be little cause to worry now, they would begin to fear an infection when the swelling would not cease. As for now, Najla could read some of the pain on Thamud’s face, though he was trying very hard not to show it. The Djinn’s grasp had settled in, giving the wound a life of its own, tearing the body from the control of its rightful owner day by day. It was not far enough yet however, and Thamud would insist to come continue the farewell ritual, though Najla was quick to refuse this. He needed to rest, she insisted, Salim would take over his duties for the day.

Basim had joined her in Thamud’s tent to say farewell, yet Najla had noticed that his strange attitude lingered from the night before. He spoke to her when necessary, but never beyond that, and his overall demeanor felt rather distant compared to his normal self. She could not address it now however, and they would finally say their farewells to Thamud’s father before they could begin to leave the Al-Uba’yd. It took quite some time, their goodbyes were carefully worded and meticulously followed, though it was Najla’s goodbye to her cousin that would take the longest.

With the party readied behind her, Najla had met Thamud’s brother and his family in front of the grand oasis as their final farewell. It felt like a final cleansing, to wash the memories of bloodshed from her visit, though it was not a somber one. When Najla had said her formal goodbyes to Salim, allowing him to touch her hand to his forehead as a final demonstration of loyalty, she turned to embrace her cousin. Such precise formality was less necessary among equals, and they hugged each other tightly as they whispered their farewells.

[i]<“I wish you’d come back to Al-Tirazi with me. I have grown used to your presence over the past few weeks, the palace will be duller without you.”>

<“I’ll miss you too, my blood, but I will return before you can think to miss me. Your wedding will come soon, and I could not bear to miss it.”>[/i]

[i]<“Promise me you’ll come early. You must be at the Ibrat Al-Layl, no one else will be able to force me through such pain.”>

<“I promise. You think I would miss the opportunity to tease you as you did at mine?”>[/i]

Najla let out a soft laugh as she recalled the celebrations, and how she’d treated her cousin during them. For most brides, the Ibrat Al-Layl, or ‘night of the needle’, was an enjoyable night, surrounded with female family and friends, drinking and feasting until dawn. For those that married into certain tribes, it was a dreaded night, and they’d be marked as married women forever, suffering the pain of the needle as their family celebrated around them. However, the notion that Zahira would be there eased Najla’s dread some, and they parted with a kiss on the cheek. It was an informal end to a long morning of rituals, and though she dreaded the goodbyes and the journey ahead, Najla was all too eager to leave the Al-Uba’yd for good. 

[hr]

The journey was long and tedious, and though Najla was aware of the way Basim’s odd attitude had lingered, she thought little of it when he left her side. He had always been friendlier with those that served him than Najla, for she saw little reason to chase after the stories of guards and servants when it did not benefit her. His return would bring a far greater cause for surprise, and Najla turned her head as the sound of hooves came rapidly behind her, watching as her brother joined her side once more. 

[i]<“Where did you go?”>[/i]

[i]<“Not far.”>[/i] His answer caused Najla to smile, though this was hidden under the cloth she’d exchanged the golden mask for, wrapping her face to protect against sun and dust alike. It would fade quickly however, Basim’s next words were enough to confirm days of what she’d suspected, though she would not have quite guessed the reasons. [i]<“I need to speak with you privately.”>[/i]

[i]<“Now?”>[/i] Najla’s eyes turned to move across the wide expanse of open desert, as if she could not imagine a private place to speak here, but it would not matter. Basim’s nod answered her, and she lifted a hand, a command for the guards behind them to create some distance between them. She could not command the open air of the desert, merely those within it, after all. Despite the newfound privacy afforded to them, it took a few moments of silence before Basim was ready to ask. Najla did not push, for she held no rush. It didn’t matter which grain of sand they were treading on when he spoke, so long as he did so before they reached the capital. Luckily, it would not take so long, for these mere moments were enough.

[i]<“Do you believe Thamud will live?”>

<“If God wills it. The wound looked painful, but I see no reason it shouldn’t heal.”>

<“I hope so. The Al-Uba’yd have seen enough bloodshed already, they should not have been burdened with more.”>

<“I agree, it will sit heavy in my heart for some time. Thamud should not have sought to fight Ketill, he was lucky his bones were not turned to ash.”>[/i]

[i]<“He didn’t seek to fight him.”>[/i]

Najla frowned at that, turning her head to look at her brother. Her frown was barely visible under the cloth, though if Basim had met her eyes, he would have seen it in her gaze. He stared forward however, and Najla felt as if they were edging ever closer to the truth, dancing around whatever weighed on Basim’s mind.

[i]<“What do you mea-”>

<“No one wanted to fight him after what he did Yazan. I sat among the warriors, I know this to be the truth. Not even the most reckless among them, and Thamud Khan was not an entirely careless man.”>

<“He was not a cautious one either. I asked him not to, it was his own will that convinced him to fight.”>

<“And it was your will that gave him a Diya and an opponent.”>[/i]

Najla let out a soft sigh then, as she was already exhausted from the travel, and her brothers words were edging too close to a subject she wouldn’t wish to discuss. She knew Basim was likely displeased with many aspects of the journey, but she had not expected that the Diya would trouble him so deeply, nor that he would place so much of the blame regarding the violence he’d seen on her. She could not yet fathom that these were part of a greater concern, though his own concern regarding Thamud’s wound was troubling. Above all, she had not missed the word ‘was’. Thamud ‘was’ not a careless man, though he was not a dead man yet. Regardless, she only wanted Basim to be clear, to directly state concern fueled his words, so that she could relinquish her fear. There was no reason for Basim to know the truth, no one who could have known would have told him. Yet it seemed Najla was not entirely certain of this, and she pulled down her scarf, now speaking in the hope that he could clear her worries.

[i]<“It was. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the Diya, you had a right to know. As for Ketill, you understand why I could not keep him from fighting. It is unfortunate, but you must trust that I do not intend to keep evil things from you.”>[/i] Najla glanced over at Basim again then, wishing only that she could know what he was thinking so that she wouldn’t have to speak the words. [i]<“You have been troubled for some days, I’ve noticed. Is this what it has been about?”>[/i] There was a brief moment of silence, though she would not let it extend, quickly speaking up again. [i]<“Be truthful with me, so that I can be truthful with you. I hate to see you troubled, it makes you silent and that makes my life far duller.”>[/i]

[i]<“Did you want Thamud to die?”>[/i]

The question struck her like a blow. Her eyes widened, and she glanced behind them, making certain that none were close enough to hear his words. It was near impossible, but this was a dangerous conversation to be having now. It was that fear that reigned now, more than the shock or anger, trying to assess how Basim would know.

[i]<“What? Are you fucking mad? Of course not Basim how could-”>[/i]

[i]<“I’ve thought it through, if he dies Salim takes his place, no? You or Zahira-”>

<“Don’t bring your cousin into this nonsense, how could you think this of us? [b]Who told you this?[/b]”>[/i]

[i]<“[b]No one![/b] I told you-”>[/i] Basim would try to continue, but Najla was quick to cut him off. Their voices were beginning to raise now, and she would not risk the chance that any word could slip to the guards behind them. Perhaps she could have switched to Broacienian to tell the truth, but two royals screaming in a foreign language was hardly a better option. Rather than risk either, she lowered her voice to something between a hiss and a whisper, quickly silencing her brother.

[i]<“No Basim. No. I did not want Thamud hurt. I played no part in the fight beyond offering my blessing to Ketill, and believe me, I did not wish to do that. Whoever or whatever has caused you to cast such doubt upon me is mistaken, for if I had been cruel enough to commit such an act, I would not have brought my younger brother along to witness it. Now lower your voice, please, so I can ease your worries rather than the entire Sultanate’s.”>[/i]

It was not enough to ease her brother, Najla found, but she was simply grateful that he lowered his voice. He’d continue to ask a few questions, and Najla would lie through her teeth in response, though she knew it could not last. News of Thamud’s death would reach the capital soon, and when that happened, Basim would know, Najla was sure of it. Even now, as she pressed him, asking who he had spoken to that offered this notion, she felt as if Basim’s mind had not been cleared of the thought itself. When Basim finally relented, he seemed surprised, for he had clearly expected Najla to be far more upset than she was at the thought.

[i]<“I was translating for Thamud’s brother, when Ketill offered his condolences. I saw the wound after, and I just thought he meant something else by it.”> 

<“Ketill’s a madman.”>[/i] Najla replied, quickly masking her relief. At the very least, Ketill’s language abilities meant Basim would have been the only man he could have told, even if she was fearful that he was speaking of it at all. [i]<“There’s no need to believe anything he says. He probably intended to disobey me and kill him, then realized I’d never give him Yasamin right before the act itself.”>[/i]

[i]<“Yasamin?”>

<“The harem girl he wanted. I considered not giving her to him, in lieu of a punishment for his behavior, but I figure it’s best this way. She’s a pretty thing, maybe you’ll meet her now that you and the Servant have grown so close.”>[/i]

[i]<“We’re not close at all, I wasn’t the one who wanted to ask a question, Makeen was. Are you really going to punish Ketill? You know it’s not a good idea, you commanded him to do those things.”>[/i]

[i]<“I already promised Thamud I would. Let’s not argue about this now, I cannot have both the words and the heat choking me so. We’ll discuss everything when we return to the palace.”>[/i] She lifted up the cloth to cover her mouth again, turning her gaze to the endless stretch of desert ahead. [i]<“The sand conceals scorpions, it’s best not to offer them our tongues.”>[/i]

Their conversation would not end quite so easily, but Najla was far more willing to drop the issue of Ketill and Basim speaking than her brother had apparently expected. Still, while they had reached some sort of truce, now only squabbling over smaller details of the matter like siblings did, Najla was only debating when the truth should come out. It was a bare truce after all, a silent understanding that these tensions would only continue until it was proved one way or the other. She could tell Basim when they reached the capital, in the safety of her room where he could yell all he wanted without the risk of anyone hearing. Or she could decide to wait until the news of Thamud’s death reached the capital, at which point Basim would likely be the one to confront her. Regardless, keeping him in the dark forever was not an option anymore, Ketill had certainly seen to that.

[hr]

She waited a day. A day so that they could return home, to be greeted by their family, to bathe and relax, and to soak up the praises of the Sultan for a job well done. The pact had been signed, a minor issue within the Sultanate was avoided, and the lives Ketill had taken in the process were quickly forgotten. Basim was not a fool, he had not abandoned the idea entirely either, though Najla did not quite know why. She suspected he was simply waiting to see how Thamud’s wound would heal, though it worried her to think how little faith her brother held in her. Perhaps this fear would have been eased if she knew the truth, that her brother was not quite so quick to consider Ketill a madman as she was. Perhaps not. Either way, she could not allow the news to reach Basim’s ears through any words but her own.

So she had come to his room after dinner, where she sat in front of her younger brother on some cushions. Basim’s eyes bored into her, hardly blinking, waiting in silence for his sister to explain her presence. He seemed more princely than ever now, especially in contrast to his usually regal sister. Najla could hardly bear to look at Basim for long, and her gaze darted around every corner of the room, nervous for the words she needed to speak. When she finally brought herself to meet her brother’s gaze, there was a long, tense silence, broken first by Najla’s sigh.

[i]<“Don’t look at me like that, it makes me feel smaller than a beetle.”>

<“I’m not looking at you like anything. You’re the one who asked to speak to me but you haven’t said a word for some time now.”>

<“You could have said something.”>

<“I have nothing to say.”>[/i]

[i]<“Fuck.”>[/i] The word came out as softly as if she had taken a breath, and yet Najla was certain Basim had heard. [i]<“Sometimes I truly wish you were dumber. You’ve got plenty to say, Basim. I’ve seen it behind your eyes for some days now, and it has not faded since our return here. You’re not some honey-tongued diplomat, there’s no need to dance around your anger with me.”>[/i]

[i]<“I’m not angry with you.”>

<“No, not yet. I could tell that you didn’t quite believe my words in the desert, you’re waiting to see if Thamud lives, or if you should be angry with me. My word was not enough.”>[/i]

There was another pause here, a brief moment of silence that felt like an eternity. Now, it was Basim who pulled his gaze from her. He seemed annoyed that she had confronted him about this, likely believing Najla was about to lecture him about the bonds of family or the trust they needed to hold in one another. His sister however, took the silence as an unneeded confirmation. Basim wasn’t a fool, he could tell that she had wanted him to stop talking about it during the journey so there would be no chance the news could spread. 

[i]<“You deserved better from me. You deserved to know, I should have told you long before you ever asked. You must understand why I couldn’t tell you, not even when you asked me-”>

<“Thamud’s going to die, isn’t he?”>[/i]

Najla could have flinched when he said those words. It did not sound like her younger brother’s voice, but that of a man she didn’t recognize, and one who didn’t particularly like her. Her own expression was worried, nearly pleading, as if she could not bear the thought of what she had done. She wanted to speak, to defend herself, but suddenly his voice would came raging back.

[i]<“[b]You lied to me.[/b]”>

<“I know Basim. I had to-”>[/i]

[i]<“You told me Thamud wasn’t going to die, you promised me you had nothing to do with it, you told me I was mad! [b]You lied to me! How?[/b]">[/i] His voice was steadily rising now, and Najla could see the anger on his face, though she could not reciprocate it if she wanted to.

[i]<“What?”>[/i]

[i]<“[b]How[/b], Najla? How do you know he’s going to die? What did you do to him?”>[/i] Before she could even part her lips to answer, his voice would come again, louder than before. [b][i]<“How?!”>[/i][/b]

[i]<“The blade was poisoned.”> [/i]

Worse than the ever-steady rising volume of his voice, Najla’s comment was met with a shocked silence. He could not have been entirely surprised, for Basim had clearly thought through the situation. It was the frankness of the sentence itself, the way Najla spoke it without easing the blow of the deed itself. She was not ashamed of her actions, that much was clear, though it worried her to think Basim would despise her for them. He did not speak for a moment, but his wide eyes would quickly return to a frown when she began to speak again.

[i]<“Don’t think I was happy to do it. But a man like Thamud heading a clan as valuable as the Al-Uba’yd is a dangerous thing, you saw that. This was the only way. I would have done better if I could. But we must serve the Sultan and the Sultanate above ourselves, I would have done it for nothing else.”>[/i]

[i]<“I can’t believe this, after all your shit about Ketill and Yazan, you do something even worse. Poison is a coward’s weapon.”>

<“I broke no Qawanin.”>

<“So? At least the fire killed him within a night, how long will the poison take?”>[/i]

[i]<“A few more days.”>[/i] At that, Basim stood, leaving Najla seated alone. He did not turn back to look at her, but she could see how his body tensed up from anger when she began to speak again, though it was not enough to stop her. She’d expected his anger, but he’d have to come to terms with the deed, at least sometime.

[i]<“It had to be like this. If he had died any other way it would have been suspicious. I know you consider it distasteful, but you have to believe me when I say that if there was a better way, I would have taken it.”>

<“Better way to do what? That was Thamud’s claim by birthright. You took it from him like a viper, that’s no way to take a man’s life.”>

<“Understand that I had no other choice. I know how distasteful it is, but it had to be done.”>[/i]

[i]<“Understand what? Did you come in here expecting forgiveness?! You used me like a tool, the whole time knowing that you were going to take a man’s life. Fuck, what do you want from me? I can never forgive you for this.”>[/i]

[i]<“I’m not asking you to. I would not deprive you of the right to be angry with me.”>[/i] Now Basim turned around to look at her, though his body was relaxing slightly, Najla still watched him carefully. He was not the type to strike in anger, not at objects or people, but that was not her worry now. [i]<“I know what I did. I know it is distasteful. But I could not have done so any other way, and I serve the Sultan before my own conscious, always. I only regret not telling you. You are a man, your participation should have been your decision. For that, I am sorry, Basim.”>[/i]

[i]<“I don’t believe a word you’re saying Najla, I don’t know what to believe from you anymore. I even felt guilty for feeling suspicious, now I just… I thought you’d be better than that. You're not. You were a coward, and you killed like one.”>[/i]

Najla moved to stand then, though some of the hurt was clearly apparent beyond the frown his insult had brought. They had fought often as children, they were siblings, after all, but this hurt far worse than if he had sat around insulting her like a child. Basim had always put his trust in her without question. He truly had believed her to be better than what she was, and Najla could tell that she had fallen in his eyes. Not entirely, but whatever image he’d had of his sister before was warped now.

[i]<"It would have been cowardice to refuse the deed. Just understand-”>[/i]

[b][i]<“Stop asking me to understand!”>[/i][/b] Najla stopped in her tracks, halted from her path towards her brother. There was that voice again, that of a man she didn’t recognize, but it was becoming familiar rather rapidly. [i]<“I know why you did it, I’m not stupid! It makes sense, I understand why you’d want to have Salim ruling the tribe. I understand why you wouldn’t tell me in the desert, I understand all of this! What I don’t understand is how you could condemn him to such a fate.”>[/i]

[i]<“[b]How[/b][b]?[/b]”>[/i] Najla paused after this word, and finally, there was a hint of anger gathering up within her. It was rather unfounded in comparison to Basim’s, only born out of exasperation. [i]<“There’s no how. I had to, so I did it. You’re not always going to have a choice.”>[/i] 

[i]<“You did have a choice, stop pretending you didn’t. You could have done it another way, or you didn’t have to kill him at all. Poison is not the weapon of a warrior.”>

<“You’re not that fucking naïve. What could I have done, challenge him in Ketill’s place? Killed him by my own sword? If I was any sort of warrior, I would have. I did what I had to, with the tools that were available to me.”>[/i]

[i]<“Like Ketill.”>

<“Yes. Like Ketill.”>

<“Are you still going to punish him?”>

<“I don’t know.”> [/i]

Najla paused here, looking up at her younger brother with a slight frown. He had not dropped the subject, just as she could see it in the desert, she saw it upon his face now. But there was nothing he could do, Thamud would be dead within a few days regardless, and Basim would not implicate his sister in such a crime. Yet she found that Basim’s next words would surprise her, for he’d found something to bargain with regardless.

[i]<“Don’t. It’s not right.”>[/i] Najla did not respond, but the look in her eyes made it clear that she wasn’t considering Basim’s opinion on such a matter. Ketill was her slave, not his, and he’d have to answer for his disrespect somehow. [i]<“You can’t punish him for something you told him to do. That’s not fair, it’s just cruelty.”> [/i]

[i]<“It’s not that easy. Disregarding his behavior in the fights, he grabbed my wrist Basim. It’s the height of disrespect for anyone who is not Mahram to touch a woman, let alone a Sultana.”>

<“So you’re going to sentence Osman too?”>[/i]

It was the first slight break from the overall tense tone of their conversation, and truthfully, the most Basim had sounded like her brother in a few days now. While Najla was annoyed that he was asking her not to punish Ketill, there was a brief moment when she’d nearly forgotten to be angry, reaching out and hitting her brother’s arm gently.

[i]<“Don’t be rude. If Osman had done so without my permission, I would have punished him too. I didn’t ask Ketill to touch me.”>

<“But you asked him to kill two men in your name. You keep saying that you’d do better if you had the choice, prove it.”> [/i]

Najla was silent for some time as she met her brother’s gaze, trying to understand what he was feeling. He was still angry with her, he’d be angry with her for some time. Keeping Ketill from punishment was the only way she’d have to redeem herself in Basim’s eyes, and in this silent gaze, it seemed as if Najla was trying to understand if he knew that. While she was not repulsed by the deed itself, it clearly hurt to have her brother think less of her as a result, and Najla found herself wondering if her brother was taking advantage of that. Regardless, a few extra scars on Ketill’s back were not worth it, it seemed.

[i]<“I’ll consider it. Now come sit back down, I know you must have a lot of questions. I want to clear your head of them. I’ll answer truthfully this time, I swear upon the Sawarim. That must mean something, no matter how angry you are with me. ”>

<“I don’t have any questions. Unless you have any other crimes you’d like to confess to, I’d like to be alone.”>[/i]

[i]<“Basim-”>[/i] She spoke his name gently, as if urging him to reconsider. Apparently despite the fact that some of the tensions had been eased, she had underestimated his anger with her. That, or he’d simply grown tired of her voice, and wished to make up his mind on his own. It wasn’t as if she had a choice but to allow him to do so, his expression had made her certain of that, and so Najla simply nodded before walking towards the door. 

[i]<“I am sorry for your role in this. I’d give my life for you Basim, don’t let my actions tear that from your memory.”>

<“But you’re not sorry about Thamud’s death?”>[/i]

Najla had been about to speak, to lie, to convince her brother that she was not quite the monster he was seeing now. But she had promised to answer his questions honestly. It was the last decent thing she could do for him, and so Najla merely shook her head.

[i]<“No. Thamud was not of my blood, the Sawarim will forgive spilling his.”>[/i]

[hr]

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It would be a few days before Najla called for Ketill again. Perhaps it would seem as if it was done to allow him to rest, or more likely, out of indifference or anger. However, the truth was all too apparent to Najla. She was unraveling, and he was the last person she'd want to see now. While she’d allow Ketill to believe whatever he liked, there was only one man Najla held no hesitation for the truth before, and he was the one who’d come to ease her mind before she’d have to speak to her slave. Or more truthfully, Najla had called for him. He came to meet her where she sat alone, basking in the sunlight beneath one of the large arched windows to the courtyard. 

[i]<“You’re supposed to call for me while you’re in the baths, not after.”>[/i] He ran a hand through her damp hair as he spoke, making it rather clear what he was referring to. Though his comment brought a smile, the words, combined with his rather obvious actions, forced her eyes to snap over the area before her, making certain no one had heard. Only a guard stood within earshot, and so she relaxed even as Osman moved to seat himself among the cushions. [i]<“In all seriousness, I thought it’d be some days before I heard from you again.”>[/i]

[i]<“Why? Is Elif getting suspicious?”>

<“She’s been suspicious, but there’s nothing she can say. She doesn’t want to believe it, I suppose, or perhaps she doesn’t want to accuse me.”>[/i]

[i]<“You?”>[/i] Najla could have laughed at the notion, though a glance over at Osman was enough to prove her amusement without it. She raised an arm to rest on the windowsill, leaving the sunlight to glint off her golden bracelets to prove her words before she’d need to speak them. [i]<“She has to bow and kiss the same fingers that wrap around her husband’s cock every night. If she’s been too scared to say anything to a Sultana before that, I can’t imagine she’ll suddenly become braver. Forget her, I need your advice.”>[/i]

[i]<“Is it the Al-Uba’yd?”>[/i] Najla turned her head to Osman as he spoke those words, only to see him begin to pull something out of his pockets. The pipe and pot were a familiar sight to her, but now, Najla shook her head. Before she’d even have a chance to refuse with her words, Osman glanced up at her, before returning to pack the pipe. It had not surprised her that he’d been willing to drop the subject of his wife so quickly, as Osman did not even like to speak her name in Najla’s presence. It must have been out of guilt, for Najla could not imagine he cared for his wife so deeply as to keep her honor before his lover. Just as she’d part her lips to refuse, Osman spoke. [i]<“I heard the news finally came today. Thamud Khan is dead, the infection finally took his life. Your friend lasted longer than you thought. Here, to help ease your mourning.”>[/i] With that, he lifted the pipe towards her, and though she hesitated to take it, a glance into his eyes was quick to convince her otherwise. There wasn’t much his eyes could convince her of, a fact she loved to whisper in his ear during their few private moments.

[i]<“Basim hasn’t spoken to you, has he? I thought he’d come to me eventually, with some question or other, but I have yet to hear from him regarding this matter.”>

<“No, but it’s not surprising. He’s likely figured out my involvement, I can’t imagine he’d want to come to me after. Besides, he’s probably just waiting for you to sentence the dog.”>[/i]

Najla let out the barest of sighs then, finally snatching the pipe from his hands. [i]<“You still believe I’m making a mistake?”>[/i]

[i]<“You made a mistake the day you asked the Sultan for his life, in my opinion. He should have been left to die long ago. Now all he does is bring you pain and trouble.”>

<“It was his sword that delivered us the Al-Uba’yd.”>[/i]

[i]<“And his tongue that drove your brother from you in the process. You should punish him, but instead, you’re rewarding him with a girl. Not any slave, you’ve convinced a harem girl to give up her luxuries for him.”>[/i]

[i]<“She doesn’t have to give up any luxuries.”>[/i] Najla passed Osman back the pipe, taking a moment to let out a soft exhale before continuing to speak. [i]<“What could she want for that I couldn’t offer her? I have given her a room, beside the Servant. She is allowed to take all that is hers from the harem, and I have instructed her to come to me, should she want for anything else. Besides-“>[/i] 

At that, Najla pushed herself off of the cushions, and in a gentle motion, stood only to perch herself in the windowsill itself. She turned so that her back was against the edge of the tile, stretching her legs out along the length of the stone. It was the easy attitude of someone who’d been scrambling up the walls and windows of the palace since their youth, who not only knew every inch of the enormous palace, but felt that it belonged to them. Osman shared no such feelings, for he would remain in his position just below her, looking up as his lover soaked in the piercing desert sun. What was usually a curse to the Sawarim was a pleasure here, where it filtered through the gardens before resting upon her exposed skin. Rather than don a black mourning dress, Najla had opted to wear white. Thamud was neither friend nor kin after all, and those mourning dresses hid far too much of her skin from the pleasures of the sun.   

[i]<“She’s under my protection now. What luxury could amount to that?”>[/i]

This was met with a scoff, and when Najla looked down at Osman again, she could see that he was smiling slightly. [i]<“You mean the Servant’s protection, right?”>[/i]

[i]<“I meant mine. Ketill doesn’t even know what he’d be protecting her from. He’s dealt with warriors, he’d never be able to face the harem. They’re already quite jealous, I can’t imagine what this news will do to them.”> 

<“You don’t think he could fight off some harem girls?”>[/i]

 When Najla reached down to take the pipe from Osman, she could see that he was grinning. It was odd for Osman to argue in favor of the Servant’s prowess in battle, but perhaps the image of Ketill losing to a few women was rather amusing to him. Rather than acknowledge this, Najla motioned for him to move closer to her, at which Osman was quick to oblige. He seated himself against the windowsill, where Najla’s hand rested gently on his shoulder. Despite how badly she’d wanted to move into his lap, to bury her face in his neck and forget about anything else, this was the most they could do. Every so often, he’d turn his face and sneak a kiss on her wrist or hand, but never more. It almost felt as if some normality had been returned to their relationship. For Najla, this brief moment was a refuge, where she clung to the one man she knew would never truly slip away from her. She quickly called for a guard to fetch Ketill, only after making certain that Osman would not say something stupid in his presence, and would continue to tell her story as they awaited his arrival.

[i]<“There was a girl some years ago, I can’t recall her name, but I remember her face too well. She had only been in the harem for a month before Uncle became infatuated with her. It wasn’t hard to see why. She was beautiful. I’d never seen a woman that radiant, they said the sun rested under her very skin.”>

<“I’d remember a woman like that. I'm assuming from your tone that she's long dead, then?”>[/i]

[i]<“God, no. They attacked her in the baths one day, and just tore her face to pieces. Some say they used fruit knives, other witnesses claimed it was done with nails and teeth alone, but whatever it was, they didn’t kill her. They made sure to leave her alive, so she would have to see Uncle’s expression when he finally saw her face. I’ve told you these stories before. If it is her voice that has captivated the Sultan, they will feed her a poison to destroy her throat from the inside. If it is her eyes, they gouge them out.”>[/i] She waved her hand then, indicating that there were many more ways to obtain her Uncle’s interest, and just as many ways the girls had concocted to take out competition. [i]<“If anything, you have to admire their sense of poetry. It’s not a game worth playing, especially not for someone who has no chance of being made a Sultan’s favorite now. The girl will be better off with him.”>[/i]

[i]<“I didn’t think the well-being of harem girls worried you this much.”>

<“It doesn’t. I don’t care if she’s happier with him, to be entirely truthful. But this is the first thing he’s wanted from me, don’t you think I made the right choice in giving her to him?”>[/i]

[i]<“I think it’s a waste, but beyond that-”>[/i] Osman shrugged. [i]<“It doesn’t matter. He’ll still be a savage dog, no matter what toys you give him to occupy his time. It’s the girl I pity.”>[/i]

[i]<“Why? She won’t be abused or mistreated. You forget, I never carried a scar or bruise from Ketill's hands.”>

<“Not as you have from mine, hm?”>[/i]

When Najla looked down at Osman, she felt her heart drop. How did Ketill do this? Merely mentioning his name was enough to begin tearing away at the few moments of peace she could find. Basim had already distanced himself from her, never in a manner that was intended to be cruel, but Najla could sense that she’d lost a great deal of his trust. Her hand slowly moved upwards from Osman’s shoulder, her fingers gently grazing his neck, as if she was hoping to hold him to her still. Yet she could feel him slipping through her fingers like sand, even as she spoke.

[i]<“Don’t speak like that. The bruises have healed, and your words have faded from my memory. I only wish to end this.”>

<“Is it not ended? Thamud’s dead.”>[/i]

[i]<“That’s not what I mean. I just-”>[/i] Now Najla’s eyes searched his, searching for a way to explain herself. She wanted to tell him that he was slipping away, that it devastated her to believe he sought his comfort in another woman’s arms. Before she could however, her lover would continue to speak, shattering the last bit of peace she’d found beside him.

[i]<“It’s you that refuses to end this. If you would punish the dog for his actions, the Al-Uba’yd could be put behind us entirely. Even Elif agrees, your… weakness for the Servant is damning.”>[/i]

[i]<“Is it now a weakness to refuse to whip a man bloody? I will not push my brother farther away from me, I’ve made my decision. Elif’s words are as dry as her cunt, they have no use to me.”>[/i]

These had been the wrong words. Osman would not stay seated, pushing himself off from the cushions so quickly it nearly startled Najla from her spot. The fall would have brought no pain but embarrassment, but when Osman looked down at her, Najla wondered if this was worse. She’d never seen Osman so defensive about his wife, especially not in front of his lover, and now wondered if she’d been the one to drive him deeper into her arms. It seemed so, for the pair would argue, quietly and in hushed whispers, though only for a brief few moments before Najla looked behind him, only to see the guard escorting Ketill to her.

[i]<“Hold your tongue.”>[/i]

Osman turned his head quickly at that, though he did not need to follow his lovers gaze to see who was approaching. Rather than relax himself however, he straightened up. 

[i]<“I’ll leave you with your precious dog then.”>

<“Osman, stay. You promised you would.”> [/i]

He did not seem to hear, turning and leaving her side before she could say another word. Both knew that Najla would not call after him, and would be forced to speak to the Servant on her own regardless. When the guard finally stood before her, presenting her with the slave she’d called for, Najla let out a soft sigh, simply tilting her head back on the tiles.

[i]“Are you a Djinn?”[/i] 

It was a strange question, but the entire situation felt strange to her. In fact, she’d make a rather odd picture altogether. As always, Najla was doused in luxury. Her hair was still wet, indicating she’d spent the day in the pools or baths, and carelessly plucked away at sweet fruits while she waited for the sun to dry it. As always, she was dressed in fine clothes and jewels, but now she’d had her lover sitting below her, a garden just behind her, there was nothing left to want for. And yet, there was no masking her unhappiness. Whatever had caused it, it was obvious that she blamed Ketill for it. The drugs Osman brought had not been enough to ease her now, only dulling her emotions for a brief moment until she was forced to face them again.

[i]“A demon, a cruel spirit who travels with wind, who takes a man's shape only to spread evil. You must be, I just don’t see any other explanation.”[/i] Her voice was softer now, as if she was speaking to herself, rather than the slave before her. She turned her face towards Ketill then, though her expression would do little to clarify her words. Her eyes were still glassy and red, clearly the effects of whatever drug her husband was so fond of. Yet she spoke these outlandish accusations with little hint as to whether she truly believed them or not. Perhaps the drugs had addled her brain finally, or perhaps being left to handle the Servant and her lover’s anger was too much for her, but there would be no explanation either way.

[i]“Osman’s mother thought you were cursed, because of your eyes. I brushed it off as superstition. After all, I’d seen some like you before, men with those same eyes of ice. Now I wonder if I was wrong.”[/i] She finally pushed her head and back off the edge of the windowsill then, reaching a hand out for an object that rested near her feet. Osman had left his pipe there, a gift she’d given him some years ago. She picked this up gently, toying with it as she continued to speak.

[i]“Ever since I have brought you into my home, all you have brought with you is chaos. Every task I ask of you only brings me more problems, I feel as if I have spent every day here conjuring up a new reason why you should keep breathing.”[/i] Now her eyes snapped up to him, a sudden flash of anger coming through at her next words. [i]“I am running out of reasons. Every word from your mouth brings grief, and you are not wise enough to stop. You don’t even have to speak, just your fucking name-”[/i]

She didn’t finish her sentence, but took the pipe with her left hand, regarding it with the same sort of bored attention children would put upon their lessons. Without bothering to look up at the guard or Ketill, she extended her hand just barely, spreading her fingers. She watched the pipe fall through her hand as if in a daze, only to train her gaze on Ketill as the glass shattered in the garden below. 

[i]<“Sultana-”>[/i] The guard’s voice was both worried and confused, but Najla would be quick to silence his fears, if not ease his confusion.

[i]<“No need to worry.”>[/i] Najla answered quickly. She spun around, her back to the garden behind her, her feet dangling over the edge. Though she spoke to the guard, her eyes rested on Ketill. [i]<“It was an ugly pipe, it looks better like this.”>[/i]

[i]“Despite all of this, you’re getting your reward.”[/i] She hesitated for a moment, the barest of smiles finding its way onto her face before she continued to speak. It would not last, but this rather strange series of emotions would be more than obvious, even to the guard who could not understand her speech. [i]“Did you think I wouldn’t fulfill my promise? Of course you did. I know what you think of me, it’s not as if I could stop you from telling me. It’s been done, regardless. It’s all done. Thamud is dead.”[/i]

Najla studied Ketill’s gaze, though she did not expect a reaction. It seemed as if she was waiting to hear him criticize her as Basim had, to chastise her for the way she’d ended his life. Obviously, she wouldn’t let Ketill talk the way Basim did to her, but there wasn’t much she could’ve done for it if she wanted to. 

[i]“I promised him I’d punish you, you know. You broke the Qawanin when you murdered Yazan, it has to be answered for. The disrespect you showed Thamud was only more reason to punish you. I asked you to fight him, not to humiliate him. Tell me, what did you say to him?”[/i]

The command came easily, but there was a great omission in Najla’s words. The disrespect Thamud had faced had been largely irrelevant to her when it had occurred, but the disrespect Ketill had shown her by grabbing her wrist had not been. Yet it was Thamud she mentioned now, a loss that was far easier to tolerate. Whatever Ketill’s answer, it would seem that Najla had grown rather tired of speaking to him. In fact, she seemed tired in general, exhausted by her own emotions and whatever Osman had given her. 

[i]“Somehow, despite all that you are, I won’t touch you. You’ll go without punishment, only reward. It’s not as if Thamud will know. Don’t believe for one moment that I am doing this out of kindness, or because I will forget your actions in the future. You have my brother to thank for this, so don’t go praising your false god for this, he had nothing to do with it.”[/i] With that, she finally moved to stand on the tiles once more, looking up at Ketill.

[i]“And since apparently I cannot stop Basim from coming to you, you must stop speaking to him. I don’t care what he bribes or threatens you with, sit in silence. Rip your tongue out, for all I care. I cannot imagine a punishment you’d fear…but you’ve tied another’s fate to yours. Go, she’ll be brought to you tonight. I will not call for her, as promised, but I’ve instructed her to come to me for all her needs. If you dare allow her to speak to me, have her come to me for all of yours as well. With any luck, I’ll never have to see that cursed grin of yours again.”[/i]
[/quote]