One Thousand Desires | ON HOLD

6 | VISIONS IN A BASIN

       FARHANA KHOURI HAD been sobbing all night, and Kalila could take it no longer. She knew very well that her mother was not a woman of action. In fact, neither was she—Zeinab had always been the pillar of strength that held their family together—but that needed to change.

That was why at daybreak, when the sky first began bleeding from black to blue, the first thing Kalila did was rummage through all of her possessions for spare coins. She had a few, but it would definitely not be enough for what she needed to do. She couldn't ask her mother for anything, for they still required money for necessary provisions.

Making a hasty and reluctant decision, Kalila then saddled her sister's brown Badawi horse and set off purposefully.

To find Riyad al-Harthi.

Riyad was the handsome son of a wealthy nobleman. Kalila and Zeinab had known him since they were children; he had always been gracious and kind to the younger girl, but downright playful and flirtatious with the older one. Kalila had long since suspected that he was secretly in love with Zeinab, but the girl had always been to oblivious to notice.

At this time of morning, Kalila knew just where to find him. He would be practicing his archery, using as a target the same warped tree he always used.

She was not a good rider. She was clumsy and had little control over the horse. Her limited knowledge of horseback permitted her to get where she needed to be, but made the ride a struggle nonetheless. As the wind blew through her dark curls and the hot sun bore down on her as it strengthened, she remembered the riding lessons she'd had with her sister. They had always seemed tedious, but Zeinab had insisted.

Kalila now wished to have those days back. More than anything.

She rode on, hiding her face from anyone who might know her, reminiscent of certain moments with her sister. Her eyes burned and she urged herself not to start crying until she knew what had happened. She needed to know that she was alive. If anyone could do it, it was Zeinab.

When, at long last, Kalila found Riyad al-Harthi just where she expected him to be, she dismounted the horse. At the sight of him, she felt a slight and inexplicable pang in her chest. He was so concentrated on his target that she was invisible to him—until she walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

Riyad dropped the bow to his side and whirled around to face her. The very moment he did, a deep confusion spread across his countenance. He was at least a head taller than she was. His eyes were a pale, intoxicating grey, and his dark brown hair was an unruly mess of curls that somehow didn't take away from his beauty—in fact, they added to it. He was just the type of man Kalila had expected her strong, confident sister to end up with.

"Kalila-jan, what are you doing here?" he demanded, a wild look in his eyes.

She blushed slightly at the term of endearment. And then mentally scolded herself for it.

"I thought—I thought you were—" he spluttered, disbelief seemingly making him unable to formulate a coherent thought. "You were the latest wife of the monster that rules these lands! How—did you escape?"

"I didn't escape, Riyad," she said sadly, shaking her head. "Please keep your voice down. I don't want anyone else to hear. I'll explain everything to you, but you must keep it a secret at all costs. I'm only telling you because I need your help with something."