[quote=@persianversion]
The few days since her fight with Osman had been quiet, though they had not certainly not been peaceful. Neither she nor Osman had even attempted to speak to one another, kept silent by their pride. Any further discussion would be pointless, for her decision would not be altered, not as it had been before. Then, all that was required for her to give in was a harsh grip on her wrist and the threat of losing her lover to another. Yet neither of those could outweigh her dedication to her brother, and when Osman found that his words were not enough either, he abandoned her to her decision. She was left to absorb the consequences alone, to feel them flit about in her mind in a voice that had long ceased to resemble her own, one that spent days clawing into her in every moment of rest she found, taunting her with what was to come. It would not tell her just what this was, but Najla could not shake the feeling that she had wrapped her fist around sand, and was forced to watch as each grain fled from her desperate grasp.

Thus, Najla had opted to allow herself as few of these peaceful moments as possible. The walls of her room were not enough to keep that horrid voice out, the one that forced her to think on nothing but what she had done, and what she would reap from it. Rather than listen, or dull such notions by wine, Najla spent her days trying to replace them with new ones, burying herself in fresh work. Now, the light of the morning filtered through her windows, illuminating the papers and books that piled onto her desk. Najla sat behind this, dressed simply, with no gold or jewelry, nothing applied to her face that could distract from the exhaustion in her eyes. Clearly, the past few nights had been relatively sleepless, as if she was even afraid to relinquish control of her consciousness. 

Her eyes snapped up at the sound of a door opening, only to abandon all thought of the work before her at the sight of her brother. For the barest of moments, Najla could have smiled. For all her worries of the future, Basim had not been among them. She had always believed her blood would return to her, and while these were questions Najla would not enjoy answering, she knew it had to be done. She would have to restore her brother’s faith in her, as painful as the process would be, for Najla could not bear the thought of losing both him and Osman. 

It took no time for that hope to abandon her, for her eyes were quick to move to the figure who came behind him. He was rather difficult to miss, after all. At the sight of Ketill, Najla’s eyes narrowed, and she stood from her chair.

[i]<“Basim, what’s-”>[/i]

Despite the confusion apparent in her expression, the sight of Ketill was enough to bring anger back into her tone, though her voice was kept soft. It would not last however, for Basim’s words were quick to quiet her. Perhaps it would not have been so before, but as Najla looked upon the man in front of her, she realized that whatever change she had seen in Basim earlier had held. Her eyes snapped to Ketill then, and there would be no doubting the anger in her eyes as she studied him, wondering just what he had said to Basim for him to approach her so. 

[i]<“Of course I didn’t.”>[/i] 

The words snapped out of her like a whip, just as her eyes snapped to Basim again. Her expression did not change, and though it felt strange to look upon her brother with the same anger she did Ketill, Najla found that she could barely contain this. He had brought the dog into her room, to assault her with his presence, he could hardly expect for her to respond pleasantly. She opened her mouth then, clearly hoping to continue, but it was to no avail. Basim began to speak again, and once more, Najla found that his words were able to override her own will, silencing her. However, this time, it was not his tone or anger that stopped her from speaking, but the words themselves. 

Even if Basim had allowed her the time to answer, Najla would not have been able to form a reply so easily. The mere mention of Zahira’s name had shocked her, and now all she could do was watch her brother with burning eyes as he continued. What would she be able to tell him? To cast the blame onto her cousin would have been easy, but Najla knew that Basim would no longer accept it. She was not so weak as to be pulled around by another’s whims, and yet Najla could not bear to take the blame onto herself, to fully become the monster he was seeing now. Even these thoughts were not given enough time to settle before worse followed, and though Najla would try to interrupt Basim, it was to no avail.

She wanted to speak, to tell him that she would never seek to endanger her family, nor was this power intended for her own use, but it seemed there would be no chance to convince him. Even if he was to fall silent, what words could she use to convince him otherwise? He was not wrong, after all, at least not completely. The risks he spoke of were true, but to tell him of how she concealed it, how she tried to keep such risks from occurring, that would only make it worse. Perhaps it was best that Basim could not be quieted, for all that Najla had to say was only more damning. It was only when he turned back to address Ketill, suddenly switching to Broacien, that Najla finally tried to move from her position. Though she could not speak yet, she stepped out, trying to walk around the desk towards her brother, only to stop when she saw him approaching.

This was not her brother that walked towards her now, Basim had never held himself in such a way. If it had been Osman before her, Najla might have flinched, or moved out of his reach. But she held no such fear before her brother, and so she only looked up at him with that same burning expression, the one that spoke every word he could not allow her to. Despite all her waiting, when he finally took a breath, Najla would be unable to speak.

How could she explain to Basim that she had tried? That she had intended to taunt Thamud into a fight, but that Basim had been right in the desert, no man wanted to fight Ketill after he had burned a man alive. Could she have told him how she had tried, would it truly be better to be a whore as well as a murderer? She bit her lip as she watched Basim, her expression edging on anxious now. Though her brother seemed unwilling to allow her to speak, Najla’s face might have provided enough answers on its own, certainly more than her words in the desert before. Even Osman had not brought such a hurt into her expression as Basim’s words did now, though there was nothing in her attitude that could garner sympathy. Even though her brother would invoke her God, it seemed that she had already made peace with her actions. Yet, when Basim would finally fall silent for a few moments, Najla did not tell him this. It was a rare occasion when she lost her words, and yet Basim seemed to have accomplished this, for Najla did not speak in his silence. There was simply too much to say, too much to explain. Though it seemed as if she wanted to speak, to begin to ease her brother however she could, he had taken those words from her now.

It was only when he spoke again that Najla’s eyes finally snapped to Ketill again. Her frown was easy to read, for clearly, she had never assumed that Ketill would have let her pray. It was the least of her concerns at the moment, but it would gnaw at her later, she was certain, even when the larger bites had healed. She could hardly comprehend such a thought before Basim began to walk over to Ketill, only to pull up his tunic and reveal her lover’s handiwork. Najla would only catch a glimpse before she turned her head, casting her eyes away as if the image disgusted her, as if she had not been the one to allow it. Likely, it was not the scars that caused her to look away so, but it would not matter. The sound of Ketill’s laughter was enough for her to look back up at the pair, her eyes narrowed in anger now as if she truly believed he was the Djinn who had brought this upon her.

Her thoughts had overwhelmed her, Najla felt as if she could barely fit together the pieces of her brother’s words, and yet, she knew that Ketill was to blame for this. Somehow, this was his fault. She had given Basim answers, he had spoken to Ketill, and returned with more questions. No, not questions, accusations. Insults. And he had brought the Servant with him to laugh, to taunt her with all he was seeking to take. It brought a sense of anger that Basim’s words had not brought, and perhaps she would have responded, but another set of voices was quick to divert her attention again. Her eyes widened at the sight of Osman and Elif entering her room, her breath halting in her chest as a new panic began to rise in her chest, joining the anger that had settled like a weight.

[i]<“Osm-“>

<“What’s going on?”>[/i]

Osman began to walk towards Ketill and Basim, but Najla was quick to speak again, hoping to halt him. She could not begin to imagine what Osman had come here to demand, not after he had refused to speak to her for some days. To do so with Elif in tow would have been enough cause for anger most days, but Najla barely seemed to register it now. With all that swam around in her thoughts, it felt as if the only thing she could clearly understand was that Osman could not be here. Not now.

[i]<“We can speak later.”>

<“We’re talking now. What is he doing here?”>[/i]

The rising tone of his voice was unmistakable, as was the spark of rage in his eyes. Rather than stay back, Najla was quick to start walking towards them, as if hoping to put herself between Osman and Ketill. Perhaps it was a dangerous thought, but not quite as dangerous as the two interacting once more. Before she could get close enough to place herself between them, Osman had already moved to approach her, his posture now entirely overwhelming. Regardless, she would not back down, and the effort to keep her voice stable as she spoke to him was apparent in nearly every word.

[i]<“You need to go. Just wait-”>

<“I’m not waiting for a dog!”>[/i]

[i]<“I don’t see a dog here.”>[/i] Najla’s gaze snapped to Basim as he spoke up, a new sort of worry now apparent on her face. Basim could not see this however, for his eyes rested on Osman, a frown appearing on his face. He’d never seen his sister’s husband-to-be as anything but respectful to his sister and her family. Now, Osman had entered without even acknowledging a prince, but this was not what caused a new spark to appear in Basim’s eyes, one Najla did not want explained to her. [i]<“I’m speaking to my sister, whatever you need can wait.”>[/i]

Osman turned at this, suddenly facing Basim rather than Najla. For a split second, it looked as if Osman was about to step towards him, but Najla would not wait to see if it was true. Her hand darted out to grip Osman’s wrist, holding onto it as firmly as she could. It was not her strength that kept him, but his eyes turned back to her quickly, allowing her to speak. Her voice came in something akin to a whisper, rushed and hurried as she tried to ease his temper.

[i]<“You know why they’re here, please, just go. You’ll only make it worse. I’ll come to you when-”>[/i]

[i]<“When you’re done with him?”>[/i] Osman snatched his hand back to him, and though he did not move to strike her, she could see his fists beginning to clench, indicating something she wasn’t eager to see. Before Najla could respond, beg him to leave or consider what he wanted, he’d begin to speak again, his voice rising even though Najla tried to pretend like she couldn’t quite hear this change. [i]<“Which one, your brother or the beast? Is your dog so high above me now? Don’t insult me like this, I’m your husband-”>[/i]

[i]<“I’m your Sultana! And your prince has asked you to leave.”>[/i] There was a rising anger in Najla’s words, though her volume was carefully controlled, for the precarious nature of the situation had not been forgotten. It was difficult to let her anger simmer quietly however, and her ‘guests’ would not make it any easier. [i]<“I have not insulted you, do not make me do so by ordering you out.”>[/i]

[i]<“I don’t take your orders. I’m not your precious fucking dog, I won’t bark for some cunt.”>[/i]

Whatever anger she had been holding was entirely visible now, and though Najla’s hand twitched at the thought of smacking her lover in the face of such an insult, she managed to subdue this. It was a lucky thing, for the way Osman towered over her now told her she would be a fool to smack him, to invite that which she had dreaded before. But Osman knew better than to do so in front of her brother, or at least, she had hoped he would. 

[i]<“Enough!”>[/i]

There it was again, the voice of a man she was only beginning to recognize. Both Osman and Najla turned their eyes towards Basim. Her brother seemed angry, understandably so, for there was an underlying meaning in Osman’s words that, even if translated, only the Sawarim would have caught. Osman was not only referring to Yasamin, but Najla herself. It was simply another phrasing of an insult she knew well, one that Osman had not learned on his own. One glance over at Elif was enough to confirm this, for even though the girl seemed rather timid, Najla could see from her eyes that she was pleased. Perhaps she had imagined it, but it felt like someone had set her veins alight to see such a look when her world was falling apart. 

[i]<“I won’t hear you insult my sister, I don’t care if she’s your wife. I don’t know what business you have, but seeing how you’ve spent your time here, it clearly isn’t urgent.”>[/i]

[i]<“My wife insults me.”>[/i] Osman began to step forward towards Basim then, at which point Najla was quick to try and step between them. His next words were thus directed at Najla, despite the fact that he seemed to be halfway responding to Basim still. She could see that Basim wanted to speak up again, to interfere, and Najla was quick to gesture for him to stay back. [i]<“He insults you, and you protect him, knowing they call you a Servant’s whore.”>[/i]

[i]<“They? Are the people screaming it in the streets now? Or was it one little whore who lost her tongue and found yours?”>[/i]

Najla’s angry gaze snapped behind Osman now, to where Elif was standing. She had not forgotten the girl’s presence, though Najla seemed worried as to Osman’s actions, especially now that she was so close to Basim. Najla’s words had emboldened Elif, though perhaps it was the shield her husband brought upon her. When she spoke, her words could not match the barely-contained rage Najla’s held now, but it was growing.

[i]<“How dare you call me a whore. How [b]dare[/b] you?! You’re not even his wife yet, you just think no one can touch you! But you’ll be a second wife soon, you’ll have to learn respect.”>[/i]

Najla nearly scoffed at that, a new sort of disbelief apparent on her face. [i]<“For you? I could never learn. How many nights did you spend alone, knowing your husband was warming himself in my bed? You shouldn’t need a man’s tongue to demand respect.”>[/i]

[i]<“You’re only a second wife, don’t forget. You won’t be a Sultana when you’re married, you’ll be-”>[/i]

[i]<“A Sultana.”>[/i] The word was spoken like a hiss, through clenched teeth, and Najla could feel her fists curling up. She would not be able to strike Elif, for Osman was standing more or less in between them, though it seemed as if Najla was eager to try. [i]<“I will not bow to you, I will not kiss your hand, and I will feel no pity when your husband chooses to spend his nights with me, again. My name remains my own, and with it, my title. You cannot take that from me.”>[/i]

[i]<“But I will take the Servant.”>[/i]

Najla’s eyes widened as she looked up at Osman, and when she glanced back towards Ketill, she could see the same surprise in Basim’s expression. She knew the laws as well as he did, but she never could have imagined that Osman would go so far as to enact it. This had to be Elif’s doing, her suggestion, but Najla would have a lifetime to find such evidence.

[i]<“It is my right. As your husband, all that is yours will be mine. Since you cannot be made to tame that mangled beast, I will. Sultana or not, you are not above this law.”>[/i]

[i]<“Believe me, I am. I will not allow you to hurt him any more than you have.”>

<“I punished him fairly, he swung at me! And you chose to protect him, like the dog-fucking cunt-”>[/i]

[i]<“Fuck you, Osman!”>[/i]

[i]<“Am I lying? He goes unpunished, even rewarded! He shouldn’t even be standing here, but you- Najla, you won’t let him fall! He says what he pleases, does as he pleases, and you just give him all he wants! That filthy fucking infidel bastard!”>[/i]

At these words, Osman had already set his eyes upon his target. Najla had not positioned herself between Osman and Ketill, but more unconsciously between her brother and her lover, so he did not have to push against her to go after the ‘beast’. It would have been foolishness regardless, especially now that there were no guards around to tame him, but luckily, he would not get that close. Basim was quick to speak up again, moving so that he was the one facing Osman now. He was not quite as tall as either of them, and far less accustomed to violence, though perhaps his anger seemed to offer him some inches now. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing Basim so self-assured, but Osman stopped in his path, staring him down as Basim spoke.

[i]<“He’s not your property yet, you have no right here. You’ve spoken enough nonsense, I don’t want to watch you embarrass yourself any further. Get out.”>[/i]

There was a brief moment, a charged stare between Osman and Basim, and in this moment, Najla worried that perhaps Osman would choose to swing at her brother. Rather than wait for this to occur, Najla stepped forwards again, closer to Osman than before, closer than she should have dared. Though she opened her mouth to speak, it was Osman that spoke first, his eyes seeming to spark with anger as he looked upon her again. He had found a easier target in her than in Basim, it seemed, though perhaps he was not quite so eager to attack Ketill as he seemed.

[i]<“Your prize Broacienien pig suffers no punishment, and yet I am insulted for asking to bring him to justice?”>[/i] Najla tried to speak again, but she found that Osman’s words would not stop now. [i]<“Even your brother has been brought to his side! You truly are a Servant’s whore! Aren’t you ashamed?!”>[/i]

Though her brother seemed quite tired of Osman’s presence, Najla would not allow him to speak up now. Perhaps there was some instinct that told her to keep Osman away, or perhaps her own anger had taken over, but regardless, she was quick to dismiss Basim when he tried to speak up again, pushing him to stay back before she turned on Osman once more.

[i]<“I’m not going to let him speak like that, Najla-“>[/i]

[i]<“Basim, this isn’t your business, stay back!”>[/i] She whipped her head back around then, glaring at Osman as her voice resumed that awful shouting. [i]<“Curse your tongue, don’t you dare drag my brother in this! You’re a coward Osman, you won’t lay a hand on anything unless you’ve got a whip in it!”>[/i]

[i]<“You’re calling me a coward? [b]Zahremar![/b] A liar should have a better memory Najla!”>[/i]

Their words had devolved even as their volumes rose, and now they stood hurling insults before each other. While Osman had done so before, Najla had never felt herself quite so angry, so filled with loathing for the man she loved. The past few days had certainly been a strain on her, and for it to culminate in this was a disaster she could never have assumed. It was clear that she was no longer in control, not of those around her, and barely even of herself. Amidst this heated exchange, Najla could see Elif reach out for Basim from the corner of her eye, likely to take him away from the two of them. It did not warrant a second thought however, for Najla was quite distracted with her lover screaming in her face. They exchanged these heated words even as Najla refused to look away or back down, despite how imposing Osman had made himself to be now. While she hoped Basim would not interfere, there would be no time to know if he would, for she said the wrong words too soon.

[i]<“You are a coward! All you can speak are insults, like I wouldn’t rather have a pet bear than a [b]simpering, shit-licking, calf![/b]”>[/i]

Her words were halted by the sudden grip of his hand, tight and unforgiving as he gripped her hair painfully, wrenching her gaze upwards. It was enough to draw a sudden gasp of pain from her, but this would quickly devolve into insults as she tried to shove him away, only to feel him grip her forearm with his other hand. She heard only yelling, he was far too close for her to hear much else, not even the sound of Basim’s voice. All she could hear was the sound of a man raging in her ear, all she could feel was the tight, painful grip fixed in her hair and on her arm, until suddenly, it was ripped from her.

Najla stumbled back as Osman released her, his hand suddenly untangling itself from its grip in light of a greater shock. As she looked up now, her breath coming in deep gasps, Najla was shocked to see the figure of her lover replaced with another, far larger, who sought to protect her from him now. Even as she felt Basim reach for her, taking her arm with a gentleness completely opposite Osman’s, Najla’s eyes remained on the figure who now stood before her, blocking her husband’s path. Osman’s protests were lost among the racing of blood in her ears, and Najla’s eyes were wide as they remained on Ketill, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Her lover had humiliated her that much was certain. But the throbbing on her arm and head was quickly forgotten now, lost among a greater shock. What was Ketill thinking, defending her like this? He hated her, surely, seeing her in pain should have been nothing but a reward for him. She could not understand him, she would never be able to understand his reasoning, but hearing Osman’s words would be enough to force her to halt. He was far less bold now that there was a Servant between them, but the words stung all the same.

[i]<“Get out from behind your dog and face your husband.”>[/i]

[i]<“Son of a thousand whores.”>[/i] It was Basim that spoke now, his voice tight and angry as he tried to control himself. He wouldn’t attack Osman, especially with Ketill standing between his sister and her husband, but he would not hold his tongue now, not even for his sister’s sake. Najla did not speak now, but she reached up to grip Basim’s hand gently, as if the touch would keep him from moving forward. [i]<“Tuck your tail between your legs and go.”>[/i]

[i]<“You have no-”>[/i]

The comfort of Basim’s hand was suddenly torn from Najla as he stepped forwards. [i]<“Leave.”>[/i]

Najla had been silent since Ketill had stepped forwards, as it seemed she was still reeling somewhat from the shock. It was not as if this was the first time Osman had done this, but Najla never could have imagined that he would do so in front of her brother, or that Ketill would be the one to stop him. Her mind was racing, past fear and anger, past hatred and shock, until her eyes turned to Elif. The girl seemed shocked by the situation, though not in the same way that Najla was, accompanied by dread and horror. There was a smugness to her surprise, one that Najla might have been imagining, and yet, it was enough for her other emotions to settle down, making room for one, all-encompassing anger. Perhaps she could have ignored it, allowed it to pass, but Elif had caught notice of her gaze. Now, she turned towards Najla, a new courage in her now that Basim and Ketill were preoccupied with Osman.

[i]<“It seems you’ve also found a man’s tongue to cower behind.”>[/i]

Whatever anger Najla had towards Osman could not have matched the surge of fury that followed Elif’s words. Her fists clenched, her eyes narrowing as she eyed the girl, her body turning towards her. She had seen how Elif had pulled Basim away, leaving Najla to be the sole target of Osman’s fury. Even as Elif continued to speak, Najla felt only that surge of anger, no longer able to decipher whether it came because of the girl’s words. Elif had known, she knew that Osman would attack Najla. She had taken Najla’s husband from her, and set him upon her like a dog. 

[i]<“Did I cower, cow?”>[/i]

[i]<“You knew your dog would defend you. How many nights did you spend trading your cunt to return to [b]my[/b] husband? How many countless infidels fucked your religio-“>[/i]

She would not be allowed to finish, her words quickly replaced by a cry of shock. Najla practically dove at the girl, before wrapping a fist in her hair much the way Osman had done moments before. She pulled Elif’s hair down, yanking the girls face towards her, striking her in the cheek with her fist. She could feel Elif’s hands on her, trying to land a blow, trying to yank her hand away, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t even think to care, for she was quick to raise her fist again, trying to strike Elif once more. Najla had nearly reached her face again when a figure tried to pull her back, though Najla felt her nails catch the girl still, a slight victory. Before she could do anything else, Basim had yanked her hand off of Elif, pulling Najla back with him. Osman had forgotten about Ketill, rushing to Elif’s side to help her, even as Najla struggled fruitlessly in her brother’s grip. 

[i]<“Let me slit that donkey-fucker’s throat!”>[/i]

[i]<“Najla, [b]shut up![/b]”>[/i] Basim had managed to pull her away from Elif, and now released her, pushing her back slightly. Even while Osman aided Elif, Najla stood before her brother, her breathing heavy, her eyes still wild with anger. However, she did not try to step forward now, only watching her brother. For a moment, they stood in a tense standoff, but their eyes were torn off one another when Elif’s voice rang out again.

[i]<“You crazy cunt, this will be answered for!”>[/i]

[i]<“Then answer it!”>[/i] Najla dared. Though she was still angry, it seemed her brother was still enough to calm her somewhat, for she would make no more dives at Elif. Still, Basim held a hand back as if to stop Najla, for her words certainly seemed as if she was prepared to attack her again. 

[i]<“Ya Sawarim, enough! Najla, stop this!”>[/i] He turned around to face Osman then, whose anger seemed to have faded in the light of something new, something far closer to worry. This incident did not bode well for Osman, who would have to settle a debate between his wives, all while pretending he held any control over them. It did not bode well for Elif either, for she had grown bold enough to insult a Sultana, understanding that there were consequences to this. However, it would be worst for Najla, though she did not quite seem to realize this yet. Rather, she allowed Basim to hold her back with a careful grip on her arm, even as he spoke to Osman. [i]<“You should go, now.”>[/i]

[i]<“No! I’m not going to let that cunt get away with this, Osman!”>[/i] Even as Elif called back for her husband to help, Najla dragged her gaze onto Osman, waiting for his answer. Her gaze was still angry, as if she was daring Osman to side with his wife, but as she calmed a growing sadness could be found in them, a slow realization that she had truly lost him. 

[i]<“No Elif, not now. We’ll settle this later.”>[/i] Osman turned his gaze past Basim, onto his wife to be. [i]<“But it will be settled.”>[/i]

[i]<“Get out.”>[/i]

These were the only words Najla could respond with, as anger still gripped her tongue, silencing her further as Osman and Elif turned to leave. She would only look upon them with burning eyes, feeling Basim release her hand only when the door slammed shut behind them. As the warmth of his hand left her, it seemed that Najla herself unraveled with it, most of her anger falling away with it. 

[i]<“Najla... what have you done?”>

<“I- I don’t know.”> 

<“Are you hurt?”>[/i]

The sudden concern for her well-being should not have been surprising, but given the circumstances, it brought a slight frown onto her face. She reached up then, touching at her head gently, feeling where Osman had gripped it before shaking her head. There was no pain left, she could only worry about what was to come. 

[i]<“What were you thinking?”>
[/i]
[i]<“Basim, please.”>[/i] Her voice was exhausted, and it sounded almost as if she truly was pleading with her brother, to simply allow her a brief respite. [i]<“Please, just leave it alone.”>[/i]

[i]<“Leave it alone?!”>

<“Yes, leave it, I’m losing my fucking mind, just leave it.”>

<“I’m not going to [b]leave it[/b], Najla!”>[/i]

[i]“She asked me how many infidels had fucked my religion!”[/i]

 It was the first time she’d spoken in Broacienian since Ketill had appeared in her room, a strange transition from screaming in her mother tongue, and yet Najla seemed to have done this intentionally. It seemed she blamed Ketill for this still, as this incident, that particular insult never could have been spat at her if it wasn’t for his presence. Then again, if it had not been for that night in Coedwin, perhaps she would not have reacted quite so violently. However, it was quite a vicious insult, the reaction upon Basim’s face was enough to confirm that.

[i]“She accuses me of trading my cunt, mocking all that I have endured, I just- I couldn’t hear it any longer.”[/i]

[i]“Well, you haven’t done much to shut her up. Fuck, what happens now?”[/i]

At that, Najla turned her gaze onto Ketill, raking her eyes across his figure, as if sizing him up. There were two routes to this now, one, that both her and Elif would back down, which seemed impossible at this point. The second was that it would be settled as it started, with champions to take the place of those who weren’t meant to fight in the first place. Rather than answer her brother however, Najla locked eyes with Ketill, choosing to speak with him first. 

[i]“Go, get out.”[/i]

There was no indication of gratitude, almost as if she had forgotten what he’d just done. Still, she’d wait for him to leave before turning to Basim again. Before he could speak, to ask about the future again, Najla reached out and took his hand with a soft sigh.

[i]<“I’ve brought a world of trouble upon you, upon all of us. I’m sorry, Basim. You deserved better from me, always.”>

<“I don’t want to hear your apology, I’ll wait till I hear Osman’s first.”>

<“No, my blood, you cannot do that. You cannot tell anyone what he did. Take mine. You won’t hear one from him.”>[/i]

[hr]

It would not take long before news of the incident had spread. Najla had hoped she would be able to contain it, but she had known it was a baseless hope. Elif had demanded an answer for such an insult, and Najla would not back down, asserting her right to retaliate for Elif’s words. Whether such a right truly existed or not was uncertain, but none would doubt that it was foolishness to insult a Sultana so blatantly. Perhaps not as foolish as a second wife attacking the first, but that was yet to be determined.

It would have to be determined by the fight. There was no other way. Najla held an authority as Sultana, but Elif held authority as a first wife, and so they stood at a standstill before the law. They were meant to be equals before their husband, but Osman’s inability to keep this matter within his household was apparent far too quickly. Had it not been for an initially unspoken agreement on the part of his wives, later solidified by Osman himself, far more could have fallen apart for him. As it stood, the official story was simply that Elif had insulted Najla and that Najla had retaliated. There was no mention of their accusations of infidelity, nor the way Osman had grabbed her. It would prove no benefit, only more trouble for either to reveal such secrets, and so it was kept hidden, leaving her story with far too many gaps.


Yet she’d found that she’d have to address these gaps again and again, in speaking to her family, her Sultan, and even in the brief, tense conversations she’d had with Osman. He was still furious with her, but had come just long enough to be assured of the precise story that she would speak. Now, she found herself sitting in her father’s room, with the judging eyes of her family upon her, forced to repeat this story again. She sat on a chair before her father’s desk, pulled out slightly so that she could face the family that had scattered across the room. Her mother sat before her, facing her with eyes that reflected far more sympathy than anger, though Najla found no comfort in this. She chose to focus on her father, who stood behind her mother, staring at her with stern eyes. Of her siblings, only Basim and Harith were present, and though this incident seemed to have amused Harith more than anything, Najla found she could not quite tell what Basim was thinking. Yet none had said a word, none had dared to speak while Najla’s father still spoke.

[i]<“Najla, this was senseless.”>[/i]

[i]<“I know, baba.”>[/i]

Najla’s voice was soft when she spoke, though this was unsurprising. She would never dare to raise her voice to her father, nor did she have the right to be angry at her family now. When she looked across their faces, Najla could have cursed herself for the trouble she had put them through. She had taken on every admission of guilt she could have, there was little left to do. They were forced to see this matter all the way through, to take it out from the shadows and before clear eyes. It was an uncomfortable notion for Najla, who was far more used to handling her business away from prying eyes. Even being forced to sit here, and apologize before her parents and siblings was a struggle, Najla already sat in dread of the Sultanate’s eyes upon her. In losing control of herself, she had lost control of this situation, and she was beginning to realize that perhaps she had lost far more.

[i]<“I would never have expected something like this from you. Your brother over there perhaps, but not you. Since when have you acted so violently? Your actions have jeopardized our name, do you have no care for that?”>[/i]

[i]<“Of course I care baba.”>[/i] Her voice was strained and tight, still trying to reign herself in. They’d spoken of this before, she’d heard every one of these criticisms and admonishes before. It was wearing on her nerves, and now she had little clue as to why her father had chosen to gather her siblings before her one more time to hear them. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good. [i]<“I’m [b]sorry[/b]. I would undo my actions if I could, believe me, I never meant to put you through this.”>[/i]

[i]<“But that’s exactly what you have done. Because of your inability to control yourself, you have brought a stain onto our name.”>

<“I know, baba. I understand what I have done, but I promise, it will be over. I have given you no cause for shame before this incident, after it is resolved, you will never see another.”>

<“And you believe this fight will resolve it?”>[/i]

[i]<“Yes.”>[/i] There was a brief silence then, and Najla simply frowned before continuing, trying to read her father’s gaze. [i]<“Isn’t that the whole point? It’s not as if the Servant will lose. Besides, I have already promised you and uncle that I would not demand any sort of recompense from Elif when he does, so that we can put this behind us.”>[/i] Again, her words were met with silence. [i]<“Baba, I’m sorry. I am so ashamed of what I have done. I never meant to bring this upon you, none of you. I would take all your pain onto me, I have told you a hundred times over. But I’ve done all that I can to resolve this, there’s no other way for me to ease your burden but to see this through.”>[/i]

Again, silence. She glanced around the room then, to see if her brothers had any indication of what was occurring. This silence was hardly pleasant, and Najla was left wondering why they could have been brought along. Harith was watching her father, clearly just as curious as Najla was, but Basim was looking at her. It was a knowing gaze, one that held her own secrets deep within them now. She turned her gaze away from him, unable to deal with such a reflection now.

[i]<“You haven’t heard then, have you?”>[/i]

[i]<“Heard what?”>[/i] Najla’s gaze flashed to her father now, and she found a new panic beginning to rise, worried that her father was finally getting to the news he’d wished to tell her. [i]<“Ya Sawarim, what’s happened now?”>[/i]

[i]<“Elif has chosen her champion.”>[/i]

[i]<“So soon? I haven’t even announced my choice to Uncle yet, surely she’d have more volunteers if she waited.”>

<“It seems there was no need. Osman announced it to the Sultan today, it’s going to be your brother in law, Sa’aqr.”>[/i]

Najla closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath as she trying to comprehend this fact. Around her, she could hear her family’s voices, Harith’s muttered curses, her father’s disappointed sigh, and her mother’s whispered prayers. There was a reason she hadn’t known about this, there was a reason they had decided their champion so early, Elif was getting her first taste of a game she needn’t have entered. She had ensured that Najla could not win, if she lost, they would say the Sawarim had decided against her in this judgement. If she won, Osman’s brother would be dead. Perhaps the thought should have worried her more, but as Najla tried to examine the consequences, wondering if she could alter this development somehow, an anger had settled in the pit of her stomach. Elif had placed too much faith in Najla’s ‘fear’ of Osman’s anger. She had not realized that Najla held little fear of Osman, only an anger towards the man her lover had turned into, and the woman she blamed for making him so.

[i]<“Osman didn’t tell you?”>[/i]

 Her mother had finally spoken for the first time, her voice far kinder than any words her father had spoken. Najla finally opened her eyes at this, looking over at her mother in silence for a few moments before she shook her head. The look of pity in her eyes was near unbearable, but there was an understanding in them that she had not seen from her father or brothers. She certainly didn’t condone Najla’s attempt on Elif, but she seemed to understand her hurt on a deeper level, or perhaps only felt more sympathy for her daughter. Regardless, Najla could not bear to look at her for long. For a long moment, she did not speak, tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair nervously. Her family picked up the chatter around her, discussing this new issue. All their words on Sa’aqr’s quick agreement, the sheer number of volunteers Elif must have had, it all filtered through her thoughts, never quite drawing her attention or gaze until her father’s stern voice finally called her name.

[i]<“Najla, say something. This is your mistake, so this is your decision to make.”>[/i]

[i]<“It’s been made.”>[/i] At this, Najla finally looked back up at her father. [i]<“Ketill should still fight, no?”>[/i]

[i]<“I can beat Sa’aqr.”>[/i] Harith finally spoke up, his voice carrying a confidence that worried Najla now. Though she could not see it, for her gaze had instantly turned to her brother, the look her father gave him must have been damning, for he was quick to defend himself. [i]<“What? It’s tradition that blood should defend blood regardless. It’s not as if I mind. If he’s going to defend Elif after such words, I would be thrilled to put him in the ground.”>[/i]

[i]<“Naming Harith might take Sa’aqr out of the fight.”>[/i] Now it was Basim’s turn to defend himself from his father’s glare, and he looked over at Harith quickly, as if hoping for some support from his brother. [i]<“I’m not saying Harith should fight him, I don’t want to see that. But they could refuse to allow Sa’aqr, for fear of breaking the Qawanin. Or he’d withdraw himself. If he isn’t going to balk at the thought of killing a Servant, he might at least hesitate to kill a prince.”>[/i]

[i]<“He’s not going to kill me.”>

<“I’m not saying he will, but the threat itself-“>

<“Is meaningless, since he can’t kill me.”>

<“Would you shut up Harith, that’s not what I’m saying.”>[/i]

A short, terse hiss from their father was enough to quiet her brothers, though it almost seemed as if Najla hadn’t heard them. She could only wonder if this was why her father had brought them here, to provide her with an option for a champion besides the Servant. Basim had a point, after all, there was a chance that Sa’aqr would only be deterred after she named Harith, rather than the Servant. It would have been a pleasing sight, to see Elif scramble for another champion, but it was still only a chance. It was difficult to consider this option however, for Najla’s thoughts could not release the notion that Osman had kept this from her. Rather than come to her and mention that his brother had volunteered, Osman had gone straight to her uncle, cementing the choice before she could have any say in the matter. Perhaps it was the smartest option for him, as she would have taken any opportunity to sway Sa’aqr from fighting, yet she couldn’t help but wonder why Osman would have allowed his brother to fight in the first place. He knew she intended to name Ketill, had Osman meant to dissuade her from that? Or had Elif convinced him? Whatever it was, it would be near impossible to understand without speaking to her husband, and Najla had never felt so far from him.

[i]<“What do you think, baba?”>

<“These are not my games to play, my blood. I could only tell you which of your fighters would win, not if they should.”>[/i]

Najla looked up at him for a moment, and it was clear in her eyes that she was lost. Her father could offer her no advice on this matter, the only ones she trusted loathed her now, or were too far away to reach her ears in time. Basim’s words were only suggestions, and she could sense that he had no desire to see his brother fight as well, though perhaps he was thinking more clearly than she was. Najla had lost herself to her thoughts, she had lost herself among the loss of her husband, the pain she had brought upon her family, and the indignity of having to go to her uncle, and explain why she had done what she did. It was a blessing that she was a Sultana, and thus allowed to have such an audience in private, but it had been little comfort when she was made to repeat Elif’s words. She could imagine nothing that would bring her comfort when she would have to answer it.

[i]<“I can’t let you fight for me, Harith.”>[/i] When she finally spoke up again, her voice had grown soft again, with a tenderness she had not spoken in for some time. His attempt to protest would be cut off rapidly, and a glance up at her parents showed a semblance of relief at her words. It was a slight comfort, to know that she had eased their worries somewhat, but it did little to balance out the pain she had brought them. [i]<“Even if I could bear to let you answer for my mistakes, you have a son. You don’t get to gamble with your life anymore. The Servant will see this insult answered.”>[/i]

[i]<“I’ll go tell my brother then, so that we can set a date for this fight. I’d like to see this matter settled as soon as we can manage, so your wedding can go on as planned.”>[/i]

[i]<“No need, baba, I can speak to him. If you’ll let me.”>[/i]

Her father looked down at her in surprise, though Najla had little surprise as to where this was coming from. She had already spoken to her uncle at length about this matter, and it had been an exhausting affair, to have to defend herself to her own family. Her uncle had shown some sympathy, especially when Najla had relayed the words that had caused her to hurt Elif, but it was not enough to console her regarding the matter. The worst had been when he asked her why Osman had not been the one to decide this, why he had let his wives run ahead of him, and Najla had been forced to defend her husband when she could think of few kind words for him. She could not bear to repeat that process, but Najla moved to stand from her seat, indicating that she would do so regardless of her own emotions. 

[i]<“This was my mistake, I have not forgotten that. May I be excused?”>[/i]

Her father nodded once then, allowing her to leave. Before she could, Najla reached out, taking her mother’s hand and kissing it gently before pressing it to her forehead. She repeated this with her father, who did not look at her with quite the same compassion her mother had held, and yet, she knew he wanted to reach out and offer some sort of sympathy. It would not happen however, and Najla simply turned to leave, before hearing her father speak again, this time to her brothers.

[i]<“Basim, go escort her. Your uncle might want to hear your testimony on this matter again. Harith, stay here, I need to speak with you.”>[/i]

With that, the discussion was ended. Najla waited for Basim to pay his respect to his parents in the same manner Najla had, as Harith moved to take her seat. When her brother had approached her, Najla took his arm, and the pair left their fathers room together. It was a strange feeling, for Basim to be escorting her so, for the past few times she had seen him had not been pleasant. She had met with him, practically begging him to settle on the same story she and Elif would tell the Sultan. Basim had tried to convince her that she should tell the Sultan about Osman’s attack as well, but after some discussion, had managed to be persuaded otherwise. It was her plea for peace in her household that ultimately convinced him, though Najla wondered if his agreement came because he wanted to give Osman no more cause to harm his sister. Regardless of the reason, he had spoken to the Sultan alongside Najla to ensure the truth of her story. She had brought a great deal of strain upon her family, but mostly onto her younger brother, and his own issues with her actions regarding Thamud had been set aside in this process. It would be brought up again, Najla was certain of that, but it seemed Basim was still struggling with just how to handle his sister. Anger did not quite fit anymore, but neither did pity.

[i]<“You think uncle will have the time for an audience now?”>

<“Hopefully. Let’s not check just yet though. I’d like to visit the temple first. If you’re willing to wait, of course.”>

<“I don’t mind, so long as you’re willing to answer some questions on the way.”>[/i]

Najla frowned slightly, looking up at her brother in confusion. They had spoken about this matter at great length, both alone and with the rest of her family present. There was simply nothing left to say. She’d assured Basim that Osman had never done such a thing before, and that he never would again. She had tried to explain her attack on Elif further, though there was little more to explain besides her apologies. Her brother understood the necessity of choosing Ketill, she could not imagine what qualm he’d have now.

[i]<“After all that you have done for me, you should know there’s no need to bargain for answers. I could hold no secret from you.”>

<“It’s not a secret, at least, I should hope it isn’t. I was only curious, what are you planning on giving Ketill to fight this time?”>[/i]

Najla bit her lip as she considered the question, before shrugging. [i]<“I haven’t even begun to consider that. I’ve been preoccupied with other concerns.”>[/i]

[i]<“That’s understandable.”>[/i] They fell quiet for a brief moment as the pair encountered a small cluster of nobles, who bowed their heads as they passed. Though Najla and Basim both returned this, Basim was quick to look ahead, though Najla’s gaze lingered. She could see them peering up at her through their lashes in curiosity, judging her in silence, but Najla could not dwell on this. She only adjusted her light grasp on Basim’s arm as they continued walking, only speaking again once she was certain they were far enough behind her.

[i]<“I will give him whatever he asks for, I suppose. I can’t afford to lose this fight.”>[/i]

[i]<“You also can’t afford to win.”>[/i]

Najla knew he was right, but when she looked up at Basim, she began to suspect that there was a deeper worry there, something he could not quite name to her. Elif naming Sa’aqr could become a major cause for political conflict, but she knew that this was not quite what Basim was talking about. There was something more personal in his anxiety, and it would not take Najla long to understand what it was.

[i]<“Osman and Elif have put us all on a difficult course, but they’ve had to peddle their own flesh like goats to do it. I’ve already put a great deal upon all of you, whatever else happens, I want it to be mine to handle. You might have been right about Harith, but I have already lost a brother, I won’t risk another on a gamble.”>[/i]

[i]<“It’s not just about Harith. You understand, you can say you’ll take the consequences, but the reality is that it won’t be up to you. Besides, I believe our family’s reputation can withstand this. Uncle loves you, his anger will fade.”>[/i]

A long pause followed, at which Najla found that she could not quite think of the words to speak. Something in the way he spoke of their uncle was telling as to his concerns, for if it was not his family he was speaking of, and not the Sultan, there were not many options left. When she spoke up again, her voice as soft as a breath, trying to convince Basim of all that she wanted to believe.

[i]<“Osman loves me too.”> 

<“Will it be enough?”>

<“Enough for what?”>

<“Najla, you’re not stupid. A few insults were all it took for him to grab you like that, knowing your blood was there to witness. What happens tomorrow, when Ketill takes his brother’s life, and you’re left alone with him?”>[/i]

He was starting to get worked up now, and Najla could tell that they were nearing the temple, so she changed her course briefly. Maintaining her grip on his arm, Najla pulled Basim out of the center of the hallway, standing beside the colorfully tiled wall as she turned to face him.

[i]<“You’re worried for me? After all I’ve done?”>

<“Ya Umma, of course I am. You’re still my sister.”>

<“Your kindness shames me, but it’s best kept for another. Osman won’t hurt me.”>[/i]

[i]<“You can’t guarantee that. Even if you survive this trial, he threatened to take Ketill from you. He has that right, just as he has the right to correct you if you refuse, don’t you think he’ll use it?”>[/i]

[i]<“No. He won’t.”>

<“Don’t tell me you’re going to give him Ketill. He’ll have him killed.”>[/i]

[i]<"He’s not going to touch him. Ketill is mine. Osman will have to understand. Trust me when I say that he will. Elif can whisper what she likes, she will not take my husband from me.”>[/i]

Before Basim could continue to protest, Najla reached upwards, placing a hand delicately on his shoulder as she raised herself to kiss his cheek. It was a tender gesture, one that would have embarrassed Basim in his younger years, but he did not seem to mind now. 

[i]<“I am not afraid of Osman. I fear only God. And so long as God has seen fit to keep you by my side, I know I hold his blessing.”>[/i]

With that, she released him, smiling slightly as she stepped back. With a practiced motion, she took the thin fabric that had been left across her shoulders, pulling it so that it covered her hair. With that, she began to walk towards the woman’s section of the temple, before looking back at Basim.

[i]<“I’ll keep my prayers short, if you’d like to wait out here.”>[/i]

[i]<“Take your time. I think I need to pray too.”>[/i]

[hr]

It seemed that despite the strange circumstances, Najla was content to follow a similar pattern as before. Again, it would be some time before Ketill was to hear from her again, before she came to fetch him with guards. However, something had shifted since the incident with Osman. Perhaps Ketill would know little of it, unless his new servant was to tell him, for it had been Najla that had been forced to speak with her family, to spend her thoughts endlessly reliving the situation. It had been Najla that had sat before her brother, to explain to him why her husband had treated her so. And now, rather than have him brought to her room, it was Najla that came to him.

It was just after noon when the sound of knocking would come at Ketill’s door, loud and masculine, clearly not that of a Sultana. Ketill would be allowed to open the door, but only if he hurried, for Najla’s patience had not changed despite the circumstances. If he did not, the guard would open it, walking in just before the Sultana. Najla walked in, taking a look around the room before she would ever train her eyes upon Ketill. It was all that was visible of her face now, for she had wrapped her head and face with a thin fabric. Whatever she was looking for, Najla would not find it, for she was quick to move towards the empty desk provided for him, removing the fabric that wrapped across her head, only to sit in the chair before it, her body turned so as to face Ketill. Her appearance had changed slightly, for while she still wore that gold circlet on her head, there was no jewelry to adorn her body. Thanks to Ketill, Osman had not latched onto her long enough to leave bruises, and so Najla had nothing to cover. She did not need to gold to wrap around her bruising, and her hair was piled atop her head now, exposing an unbruised neck as well. It was a strange victory, but she was not ignorant to the fact that she was flaunting her lack of injuries, not to Ketill, but to Osman. She had dressed similiarly during their brief conversations, but then, she had not felt as if she needed to hide her face. Clearly, coming to see Ketill was a different matter.

[i]“Do you like your room? It’s better than the alternative, I imagine. Although I don’t know why they gave you one of these.”[/i] She rapped her fingers on the desk, leaving no question as to what she meant. [i]“I can’t fathom what use you’d find for it.”[/i] It was a strange way to start the conversation, yet Najla rested her elbow on the desk, reaching up to toy with a tendril of her hair absent-mindedly, as if she was truly engrossed in this meaningless chatter. [i]“It’s a bit plain, isn’t it? Why not ask for something prettier than that desert to adorn your room? Although… I suppose that you already have. I hope she’s been satisfying, I don’t have many more to spare.”[/i]

Her words were strange, her tone too familiar, as if she was speaking to a nobleman whose presence was waning on her nerves. It would sound almost as if she had completely forgotten the incident, though there was something in the way she studied Ketill that indicated otherwise. She would never forget, and as her eyes studied her ‘protector’, Najla realized she might never understand either.

[i]“I suppose I should get to the point, though I’m certain you’ve already guessed at it. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but…”[/i] Najla let out a soft sigh now, closing her eyes as she did so, as if steeling herself for her words. There was too much to say, too many words to sort through, yet for once, Najla was somewhat quick at getting to the real point of her words. [i]“That cunt demanded that the insult be answered for. It’s pathetic. Yet I cannot back down from such a demand, not even in the name of peace for my household or husband. Truthfully, if she had offered herself, I would not have wanted to.”[/i] Najla did not try to justify her actions, for once, she had no need to. It was a strange sort of comfort to know that she was in the presence of someone far more violent than her, who she had seen do far worse than a blow to the face. It was still a small comfort however, for she took in a deep breath then, steeling herself for her next words. 

[i]“Instead, we’re to choose champions, to settle this matter before the clear eyes of the Sawarim. I have of course, chosen…”[/i] She did not say the word, instead gesturing with a hand towards Ketill. No one would be surprised to hear who Najla had chosen. Typically, this role would be given to brothers or cousins, to be an extension of those who quarreled, but those were far too dear to her. Besides, Ketill represented far more than a blood tie, she would put that which she had survived before the Sultanate, and watch it strike Elif down. Still, Najla clearly found little thrill in the notion, and her next words would leave no question as to why.

[i]“Elif had quite a few volunteers to choose from, but she will announce the final one in some days. Sa’aqr ibn Hakim Al-Suwaidi. He’s a skilled warrior. Unlike his brother, he sharpens this ability on warriors, not women.”[/i]

She paused slightly before speaking again, though her expression would indicate nothing about the problem she had revealed to Ketill. There was no winning, not for her. If Ketill was to die, she’d be humiliated, if he won, her husband’s family would never forgive her. Perhaps she should have chosen a brother as well, to place the fear of killing a prince upon Osman’s family, but she could not have brought herself to do so. This had been her mistake, she would not bargain Harith’s life to fix it.

[i]“Does it please you, to know you’re to fight Osman’s brother? My husband loves his brother dearly, as I love Osman, so I’m certain you’ll find some sort of pleasure in his grief.”[/i] The way she said his was rather telling, though Najla would not have to explain for Ketill to understand. She did not care for the death of her brother-in-law, just as she had not cared for Thamud. [i]“Will that be enough? Or will you be asking for another girl? You’ve become awfully bold, so just spit out your price. So long as you can take Sa’aqr’s life, it’s yours.”[/i]

This bargain was all that she had come for. Najla could hardly bear to be in his presence for long, it was a reminder of all that was to come, all that he had already taken from her. She would hear his answer before standing up, pulling that fabric up over her hair, though she did not wrap it around her face just yet. Before she could leave, Najla stopped, turning back to look at Ketill. It seemed as if it was spoken as an afterthought, but it was a weight that had laid upon her chest for days, one she could not have forgotten so easily. Her voice was slightly softer as she spoke now, for though she would issue a command, there was little sternness in her voice. It seemed almost empty without the poised yet forceful tone of a Sultana she had learned to adopt. 

[i]“I do not know why you did what you did. I should thank you for your intentions, I suppose, but something…something tells me not to. Perhaps you have dragged me into your own madness, or perhaps it is the knowledge our years together have brought, but I intend to trust it regardless. You have given me no reason to thank you.”[/i]

It was a harsh statement, perhaps rude in any other context, but Najla would be quick to explain herself. Ketill had brought only brought hardship on her, and though she could hardly settle on a reason for his actions, Najla had seen the consequences all too well.

[i]“You shouldn’t have protected me. I cannot keep you by my side like a guard dog, and I cannot be separated from Osman now, not ever. I would never wish to be. You’ve only given them more cause to call me a Monarchist whore, and Osman cause to punish you for it.”[/i] Now her eyes seemed to find that sternness they had been missing, likely as she realized the command she was giving Ketill. It was a horrible sentence to speak, to even assume that her husband might try something like this again, but Najla had been wrong before. So long as Ketill was breathing, Osman would find a reason to loathe her.

[i]“It is his right as my husband to strike me. You do not know our laws, I understand, but that does not take this right from him. Next time, stay your hand. For my sake or yours, I don’t care, but you must let him do it. There are worse fates than a bruising.”[/i]
[/quote]