One Thousand Desires | ON HOLD

4 | THE ELUSIVE SURVIVOR

       THE CALIPHA WASN'T awoken by the sound of the door opening, nor when someone sighed loudly and prodded her in the back. It was only after the blinds were drawn and the covers pulled off of her body that Zeinab emerged from her slumber and opened her makeup-caked eyelids. It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the sunlight that flooded the bedroom.

She didn't even think to wonder who'd opened the blinds until her eyes fell on a woman who was surveying her with her hands on her hips.

"You sleep like a rock."

Zeinab let out a yelp of surprise, and the woman immediately flocked over to her and shushed her.

"My lady, Calipha of Khorashtar, Queen of Queens—I am only your handmaid, Sabirah Rasul. There is no need to scream."

Contrary to her words of praise, the handmaid sounded immensely bored and seemed to be on the verge of rolling her eyes. She was quite young—perhaps twenty years old. Her figure was slightly plump and she was shorter than Zeinab, but an inexplicable and effortless beauty emanated off of her. She carried her weight incredibly well, and her heart-shaped visage itself was something lovely—round cheeks, creamy copper skin and deep brown eyes, all framed by pronounced eyebrows. Bangles and necklaces adorned her body so that she, as a whole, was a shimmering silhouette.

An evidently frustrated one, based on the look she was giving the calipha.

"Why do I need a handmaid?" Zeinab murmured, rising from the bed and using her arm to block her eyes from the sun.

The woman scoffed. "Because, my lady, I don't know if it has hit you yet, but I will reiterate that you are now the Queen of Khorashtar. And the longest living wife of Kadar al-Din Rumi, at that."

"If that is true, why are you speaking to me so rudely?" she bit back. "Shouldn't you be respecting your queen? My husband has people bowing at his feet!"

"I speak to everyone this way," Sabirah mused, raising her thick eyebrows. "The servants, the guards, the soldiers, even the rest of the royal family! Well... with the exception of the king. But I'm very blunt with the prince, King Kadar's brother, and he doesn't mind either. You might find it endearing one day, my lady."

Zeinab pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"You went to sleep without bathing," Sabirah tutted disapprovingly, dashing to the floor to pick up the empty tray of food that Zeinab had left there.

Zeinab could not help but notice that Sabirah moved with the grace of a gazelle, much unlike herself—she was clumsy on her feet, and the only thing that made up for it was her unyielding self-confidence.

"I was tired," she grumbled meekly in response, trying to stop herself from rubbing her eyes. She folded her arms over her chest, itching to change out of the uncomfortable shamla. "One thing that I can say for certain is that I had a much more stressful night than you did."

"How so?" Sabirah asked, smirking. "Fending off the caliph's wandering hands and then his dagger? How did you do it, anyway, Kalila Nejem?"

"Were you sent here to ask me that?"

A laugh arose from her chest. "Of course not. The caliph and I don't exactly confide in each other or share secrets over tea. I wouldn't dare suggest to him that his wife has conned him, as I suspect you have. Perhaps he truly is in love with you. But if he is, I would like to know what exactly you did to have him on his knees so quickly."

Love? No, Sabirah. I just have him under my spell.

Zeinab gave her a wide grin, baring her pearly white teeth. Why would this woman whom she'd just met think that Zeinab would ever share her secrets? "Isn't it obvious? He has fallen for my charm. And my beauty."

The handmaid's eyes trailed over the young queen's figure, from her messy midnight hair and tired eyes to her rumpled dress. "Yes, you are indeed beautiful, despite your current state as a royal mess. Even behind the knotted hair, you are still frustratingly breathtaking. But I don't think that could ever be enough to bring the caliph to his senses and stop his bloodshed. He has killed many beautiful girls. Some even more beautiful than you."

Zeinab sucked in a sharp breath at the thought of just how many girls had been killed on the very floor on which she stood. "Perhaps I—am simply better than all of the rest," she lied convincingly, shrugging her shoulders. "More intelligent, more witty, more charming. Isn't there more to love than just looks?" She batted her eyelashes at the handmaid.

Sabirah blinked at her, then rolled her eyes. "Or perhaps simply more arrogant," she said, shaking her head.

"But I'm not arrogant," she replied innocently. "I appear to be, but I'm only faking it. On the inside, I'm positively trembling with fear."

"You're lying," said the handmaid. "Believe me, my lady, I have personally witnessed him slit the throats of dozens of girls. You survived through one dawn. Congratulations. I both hope and doubt you'll last that long."

"How rude of you!" Zeinab exclaimed, but she wasn't offended by the comment—she was too preoccupied thinking about how she'd prove everyone wrong and live to tell the tale.

"Why thank you, rude is exactly what I strive to be," Sabirah replied with disinterest, lifting her chin in the air. "I've never done this before because the other queens have never survived the night, but I suppose it shouldn't be so bad. Now get up, it's time to wash all of that grime off of you so that you can be ready to see the caliph. He is waiting for you in the dining hall. Prince Munir also wishes to meet you. As does the rest of this desert kingdom. By around now, they should all be receiving word of the elusive girl who has supposedly tamed the monstrous king."

The calipha chewed on her lower lip. Begrudgingly, she rose from the comfort of the soft bed and turned to leave—she needed to change. However, her handmaid stopped her one final time.

"Wait—Queen Kalila," she called; the words made Zeinab's shoulders tense up. She turned around and stared expectantly at the round-faced woman. "You must have deeply rattled King Kadar. For the sake of Khorashtar, I pray that you continue to do so. He needs it very much."

The young queen frown wavered and turned to a small smile. "I'll do my best."

The rest of the words died on her lips. She could say no more to this woman she did not trust.

Oh, I'll do so much more than rattle him. His life will remain in danger for as long as I am still breathing.