Malikati

chapter 5

The need to claim her and her need to surrender almost chocked them both. “You still yearn for me…but not now, not today. I will claim you certainly but only when your heart finally submits, For I cannot claim your body without your heart.” She looked away, feeling ashamed of her actions. She had spent years hating him but just now she almost couldn’t resist him. He sighed and stepped back from her.

“don’t frown, I hate to see you frown” “since when did the leopard change its spot” she retorted, a little harsher to save her last dignity. He said nothing but continued filling up the earthen pot beside her with water from another pot close to the entrance of the tent. “Since when did you know about Saleem?” she asked “I always knew Habibti, do you think I came to you night after night without knowing you’d be with my child?” this schemer, so he knew that she was with child even in that dungeon?

“And yet you were ready to kill the mother of your child” “I would cut off my own arm if I was forced to hurt a hair on your head” he said without explaining further. What did he mean by that? Was that night at the dungeon all a lie? A make- believe. “What do you mean Ibrahim” “There are things you do not know Habibti, things so deep you will have to muddle through waters to get the answer, for your sanity I prefer you ignorant. However, Saleem is my son, the heir to my seat, I will not have another man raise him” her eyes widened. “I will go and check up on Saleem, we will leave for the capital once day breaks. Lay your head down, I will watch over the tent” with that he left.

Leaving her with more questions than answers.

She waited for Saleem to join her on the woven mat but as hours passed by and his laughter and the horses neigh rang through the air, followed by the laughter of her betrayer, she began to ask, perhaps was she selfish? And even if she was, it was valid, was it not?

Unknown’s POV

The capital

The sultan’s palace.

The potteries broke into pieces “Why are you so useless! Clean it up, clean it up now!” this person watched the Slave girl that was just brought in yesterday scramble to pick up the broken water pot, and she threw another crashing it just like the others. It gave her a feeling of Euphoria, seeing the fear in their eyes. It meant that she was still as powerful, still relevant, still needed. “Calm your anger, do not make a spectacle of yourself” a voice said and as always, she reigned in her emotions. The rest of the maids all felt relieved as well, silently thanking this person for intervening on time, it meant they get to live for another day. “You came at the wrong time uncle” she said lazily, her morning ruined but she still enjoyed watching the girl pick up the broken pottery with bleeding hands. “I came at the right time, or you would have managed to throw away years of our hard work to the wind!” she became livid and threw her dagger at the man that dared raise his voice at her.

“You forget your place!” “Pardon me” he replied, still deviant. Although the dagger had missed by an inch, it still managed to leave a cut on his cheek. She smirked. “Pardon me what?” she asked, toying with another dagger mindlessly. “Pardon me Malikati”

She laughed; this was more like it. Malikati, the one that wears the crown, the one that gets to sit by that cruel man’s side. Speaking of him… “leave” she commanded and the maids eager to respond, quickly bowed and walked out, a little too hastily.

“Has your little spy replied?” she asked and the man she termed Uncle nodded. “He is returning home now, he is close to the capital…he, that woman and their offspring” she has always known, that his little trips outside the capital was to see that woman, her nemesis. She has always known, that although she sat at his right hand, she could never come close with the one inside his heart. But she had hoped.

Was it wrong to hope? To want things beyond her reach?

“She sure is a shameless mule, how can she come back to where she was schemed against” she said, this time getting up to look outside through the window. The capital, her palace, everything was just as she wanted it to be. The servants moved to the direction she wanted and the cabinet men whispered words she wanted them to say. Then who does he think he is? To think that his little concubine and her spawn will survive in a world that was hers.

He belonged to her; he had always belonged to her and he knew it. He knew that in this world of theirs, Ibrahim khan would always belong to Hajar Al-Wahid, always. “We gave the bastard son the throne and now he thinks it’s his right. He wants to seat his bastard son on it too” she chuckled darkly, her hands tightening into a fist.

In an instant she released her tightened grip, making the man behind her wonder if she was ever normal. As though she wasn’t bursting with lividness a while ago, she casually strolled to her Sofa made of leopard pelt, a gift she had received from that man on her birthday. She caressed it with a smile on her face “we still know his weakness, and we will use it to our advantage. When he hears that name, He bends to our will” she said, still caressing. Goosebumps rose on the skin of the man she termed uncle. He began to wonder how he could have let his greed for money lead him to be entangled with this evil personified. “I truly have no choice; he is the evil one. He is the monster not me”

“Arjun…” she whispered and the man stepped back in panic. She truly was evil. “Send words to my father, Arjun’s name should be brought up in court. To get the lion, we must strike at his Achilles heel” with panicked voice the man answered “yes Malikati”

“Pick up the gold and get lost!” she said, throwing coins at the greedy man and just as she predicted, he threw his dignity to the wind and scrambled on his knees to pick them up with so much urgency, as though they would slip through his fingers if he should delay. She would kill him when all these is over, but for now, he still served a purpose.

“Send for my son!” she ordered and went back to caressing her leopard pelt sofa while mindlessly humming to a tone recognizable to her alone.