Chapter Nine
In the time of Great Hunger and Hardship, the One Above heeded His people’s cries for help. He called forth his strongest and bravest angels, and to each one He asked –
‘Are you ready to give your life to those in need?’
The winged warriors went down on their knees, laid their swords on the ground, and placed their right hands over their hearts.
‘Command us as you will. Our lives are yours.’
‘It will not be an easy journey,’ the One Above warned them.
‘You will be made to take the image of The Serpent, the mask of which Hell once wore and mortals now see as the symbol of evil and perfidy.
For you are not called upon to merely save their souls from mortal death but from eternal damnation as well.
You are tasked to open their eyes and remember what they have forgotten.
That what they see is immaterial, and that truth still lies within.
You will be reviled and scorned; you will be made to feel dumb or cruel;
You will be seen as Different and therefore Wrong –
And so knowing all of these, do you still say yes?’
The angels replied, ‘You only have to say the word, and Thy will be done.’
And so the angels fell from the heavens, and the air turned them into serpents that slithered on their bellies. The people they came to save cursed and spit on them, hunted and killed them without an ounce of mercy merely because they were Different.
But even so, the serpents did not waver, and they sank their poison-tipped fangs into the throats of mortal oppressors, and upon reaching the desert, they impaled themselves on the jagged edges of nature so that their cold blood would flow out of their veins, and from where it seeped into the barren, sunbaked ground welled oases that freed the poor and the persecuted.
Finally, when it was time to Rise, they shed their scaly skins, and they soared to the skies as soon as their wings broke out. They flew over the desert, spears raining down on the unrepentant –
Those who have dared harm the innocent in the name of the One Above,
Those who have dared to sow discord in His Name,
Those who believed that who and what they were made them rulers of this world,
The angels cast the lot of them to Hell.
And as for those who were left to rebuild amidst the crimson ashes of war –
‘Live in harmony and let not another precious drop of your blood be spilled over mortal concerns.’
It was the last time in man’s history that the angels were ever seen or heard of again, but their story was passed from generation to generation so that mortals would remember evil was not the only one to take all forms and sizes.
So did love, kindness, and valor.
So did those who wished for peace.
And lastly, so did the serpent that was once cursed and reviled.
~ The Tale of the Serpent
A Ramilian myth
Hyacinth closed the book with a snap and looked up with a smile. “And there ends The Tale of the Serpent.”
A chorus of disappointed cries rose from the crowd of preschoolers.
“Now, I have a question.” She feigned a look of pensiveness, her brows meeting in a frown. “Does anyone here know what Al Afea means in English?”
Hands shot up in the air, and Hyacinth laughed with delight. “Everyone knows then?”
Yes! Nem!
“Let’s say it together then. One…two…three…”
“The Serpent!”
Hyacinth clapped her hands in approval. “That’s absolutely right.” The children cheered again, and she quickly placed a finger over her lips as the little ones started becoming rowdy. “Ssssh…I have a secret to tell, but I need you to keep quiet so you can hear it.”
As the children worked hard to behave, she let her lips move in silence, and after a moment, she asked, “Did you hear that?”
Noooooooo.
“That’s why I need you to keep really…really…quiet.” She gazed at the children expectantly. “Do you guys think you can do that?” The children started to answer, and Hyacinth quickly shook her head. “No, no, just answer me with a nod.”
The children did as asked, vehemently nodding in answer.
“Very good,” Hyacinth whispered. “And as for that little secret…” She paused, letting the excitement build. “Do you know who Sheikh Rayyan Al-Atassi is?”
More nods.
“Can you whisper to me what his other name is?”
Al Afea, the kids whispered.
“That’s right,” Hyacinth said with a beaming smile. “And do you know when his birthday is?”
The kids shook their heads.
“It’s in three days,” she whispered, “and we’re going to plan a surprise for him…”
At the very back of the crowd, the sheikh, who had slipped inside the royal library unnoticed, watched in amusement as both parents and children alike leaned forward, a shared look of rapt attention on their faces.
The girl really was too good, the sheikh mused. There was nothing – not a single thing – in her demeanor that revealed the truth, which was that 24 hours ago, Hyacinth virtually needed to have her arm twisted into filling in as today’s storyteller.
I’m fucking awful with kids!
They scare the shit out of me!
Find another idiot to play Scheherazade.
But then he had started walking towards her, backing her against the wall, and when he was close enough to hear her heartbeat, he had slowly lowered his head to whisper one word into her ear.
Please.
And here she was now, and Rayyan had all but run to the royal library, unable to keep his cool in his urgent desire to catch even just the final minute of Hyacinth’s performance. If not for Khalil personally requesting all his vassals’ attendance at the meeting, he would have skipped it altogether. He would rather be here, watching her.
Al Afea looked so in love. Gadi worked hard to pick up his jaw from the floor as the storytelling session came to an end and he saw the sheikh steal one last look at the girl before stepping out of the palace library.
By the time the crowd began to disperse, the sheikh and his assistant were halfway to the department office, and the younger man was just starting to recover from his shock. Stars above, to think that such a dashing and worldly man like the sheikh could actually –
“Gadi?”
The sheikh’s assistant hastily snapped to attention. “Nem, alshaykh?”
“If you don’t wipe that grin off your face in the next second, you’re fired.”
“Understood, Your Highness.” And Gadi was true to his promise…but only for as long as the sheikh was within earshot. The moment his employer closeted himself in his office, however –
Rayyan winced as he heard the female members of his staff squeal in excitement from the other side of the door. Damn Gadi and his big mouth. He really had to teach that boy a lesson one of these days, but more importantly, he had to do something about her.
Right now, only the palace staff and those who worked closely with the finance department had taken notice of Hyacinth, whom many likened to a kitten that followed the sheikh around wherever he went. And just like a cherished pet, Hyacinth was known to be sweet and charming to those who sang praises of the sheikh, but also wild and feral to those who spoke ill of him in her presence.
Although Rayyan was secure in the knowledge that none of his loyal staff would even think of publicly voicing whatever opinions they had about the nature of his relationship with Hyacinth, he also knew that it would be careless of him to let things continue as they were.
One of these days, the inevitable would come, and…
The faint sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and the sheikh winced, having no trouble identifying the culprit behind all the commotion.
Silent as a mouse, dammit.
That was what he had always advised Hyacinth to do when walking through the palace’s secret tunnels, but here she was, making as much noise as a marching band.
Minutes later, the secret panel in his wall slid open silently, and Hyacinth stood by the doorway, a gamine smile flirting with her lips. “Surprise!”
“La, anisdi.” No, milady. “Galloping horses are a thousand times better at being stealthy,” he said dryly, “so no, it’s no surprise that you’re here.”
She stuck her tongue out. “Spoilsport.” And then she ran towards him at full speed.
But the sheikh was more than ready for her, as always, and before she could even stand on her toes to steal a kiss from his lips, he already had her in his trap, his arms closing around her in a caged embrace.
“Spoilsport,” she mumbled even as her toes curled hard at having her body pressed against the sheikh’s powerful form. And when she felt his broad shoulders shake in silent mirth, her toes could only curl harder even as she mentally despaired the hopelessness of her situation.
You have it so, so, so ridiculously bad, H.
“I guess I am,” the sheikh said softly. “But…”
“I knew there’d be a but,” she muttered.
“You love me anyway.”
Shit.
“Don’t you?”
“I fucking hate you,” Hyacinth snarled, “and that’s---” Her voice died, her body tensing when she felt the sheikh’s lips move to her ear. And then she felt him breathe, and it was all she could do not to swoon.
God help me.
I’d rather fucking die than swoon.
“Thank you for doing what you did, majamira.”
“Hmph.”
The sheikh grinned down at her. “Are you pouting?”
Oh shit.
Realizing she was indeed pouting like a silly high school girl (which she was, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that), she hastily rearranged her features into a scowl, saying snidely, “You’re mistaken. You need to have your eyes checked. And anyway---” Hyacinth rushed to change the subject. “Don’t think I didn’t know you were late.”
“Maehdina.” I’m sorry. “I didn’t want to be, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“Yeah right.”
“How do I make it up to you?”
“Say you’re in love with me,” she said without hesitation.
“I’m in love with you,” he conceded just as promptly.
She stepped on his foot – hard – and the sheikh winced.
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I’m working on it.”
Hyacinth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The truth was in his eyes. He might not be in love with her, but he was working on it, and God. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel about that.
Insulted that he had to work on falling for her – or hopeful that he wanted to fall in love with her?
“You drive me crazy,” she muttered. “You really do.”
“Maehdina.”
“And stop that. We both know you’re only saying you’re sorry because you know what it does to me.”
The sheikh studied her with feigned puzzlement. “What does it do to you?”
“Ha!”
“Do the words make your heart race, is that it?”
A strangled gasp escaped her.
“Or maybe…” The sheikh’s voice turned husky. “The words make you want to take a whip out, put on a pair of leather thongs---”
“Rayyan!” She squirmed in discomfort, red-faced at the images the sheikh’s unexpected words brought to mind. “How could you---” Hyacinth stopped speaking, noticing too late the strange look on the sheikh’s handsome face. “What is it?”
But he only stared at her, and she started feeling uneasy.
“What’s wrong? Sheikh---”
He shook his head. “No.”
And now she was completely bewildered. “No?”
“You didn’t call me sheikh earlier.”
Oh.
He was right.
Rayyan saw the uncertainty in her gaze, and his chest clenched. “Don’t.”
Hyacinth sucked in her breath at the harsh tone of his voice. It hurt. But even so, she made herself ask. “Don’t…what?” If he wanted to play the jerk, she wasn’t going to let him do it half-assed. She would –
“Don’t look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
What?
“You’re looking at me,” Rayyan said quietly, “like you believe you need my permission to say my name.”
OH.
“Because you don’t.”
Her head dropped to his chest.
“If anything---”
“Shut up.”
“I’d be honored---”
“I said shut up.” And that was when he felt it.
“To have you say my name.” Her tears on his heart.
“So say it.”
Her body shook against him.
“Say it, Hyacinth.”
So many tears.
“Do you want me to beg---”
“Shut up, Rayyan.”
His eyes closed. “Good girl.” He heard her choke back a teary laugh, and he tightened his hold on her.
If only…God, if only he could give her more than his name –
If only.
But some things were beyond even Al Afea.