Chapter Nineteen
“Professor? I think there are soldiers waiting outside our room.” The words, spoken with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, came from the student who had arrived fifteen minutes after the start of the class.
Wondering if this was just the student’s ploy to distract Anisah from giving her a tardy slip, she stood up reluctantly while gesturing for Vicky to take her seat.
Her students started chattering as she opened the door and poked her head out, and to Anisah’s surprise there was indeed a small number of soldiers stiffly lined up in the hallway, five of them in total, and the man who appeared to be their leader immediately stepped forward upon seeing her.
“Professor Kahveci?”
Anisah was startled at hearing the soldier speak her name.
How did this man know –
Her face paled. What if…something had happened to Tarif, and these men had been tasked to take her to wherever the sheikh was?
Clearing her throat, she tried to keep her voice even as she answered them. “Yes, I’m Professor Anisah Kahveci.”
“We have been asked to escort you to the palace as soon as possible, Professor.”
It was like having her worst misgivings confirmed, and Anisah felt herself going faint. “Is it Tarif?” she whispered. “Did something happen to him?”
“We are not at liberty to discuss, Professor…”
Anisah didn’t hear the rest of the soldier’s words. All she knew was that the man was stalling – and it reminded her of the way nurses and doctors tended to avoid answering a terminally ill patient’s question about his chances of survival.
“Please come with us peacefully, Professor.”
“Yes, of course.” Did the soldier think she was the type to fall into hysterics at the first sign of bad news? “I just need to ask the faculty for a temp to take over my class. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes---” She stopped speaking when an alarming thought suddenly occurred to her. What if she didn’t have a few minutes to spare? What if Tarif needed her now?
“Forget I said that,” she heard herself say. “Just give me five seconds.” Rushing back inside, Anisah started stuffing her things back into her bag while informing the students of her emergency. “Therefore, I’m dismissing you early. If you have any questions about today’s lecture, please refer them to Professor Thorne---”
Hands suddenly shot up in the air while those who were unable to restrain themselves simply started asking her questions.
Has something happened at the palace?
Was it Sheikh Tarif?
Could they do anything to help?
Although her students’ curiosity was palpable, so was the genuine concern in their eyes, and her eyes stung as she sought to reassure them. “Thank you for your concern, but there is no need to worry. I promise to keep everyone posted,” she said gruffly.
Anisah was whisked into a waiting vehicle outside the university as soon as she left the classroom, and the ride back to the palace was spent in silence. Anisah closed her eyes and started to pray. Heavenly One. Please. Let him be fine.
Anisah expected the soldiers to take her straight to the palace’s in-house health clinic or the sheikh’s private chamber, but instead she found herself escorted all the way to the security room. There, she found all five sheikhs waiting – all of them looking handsome and powerful – but the truth was, she only had eyes for one man.
She rushed unthinkingly to Tarif as he rose to his feet. “I t-thought something happened to you.”
The sheikh only pulled a chair out for her in answer. “Please take a seat, anisdi.” His tone was cold, his gaze inscrutable, and confusion swirled around her even as she found herself doing as he bid.
“Tarif?”
The sheikh’s jaw clenched, but he did not even look at her as he reclaimed the seat next to Anisah.
“Thank you for joining us, Lady Anisah.” The king’s words gave her an excuse to look away, and she seized it gratefully, turning to Khalil while her body grew rigid in her struggle to keep her emotions in check. Why wouldn’t he look at her? Why couldn’t she stop feeling something was wrong? Why?
“We have invited you here to clarify certain matters.” It was the kingdom’s army commander who spoke this time, and Anisah forced herself to concentrate on Altair’s words. “Our technician will be playing several videos, and we would appreciate if you could answer a few of our questions afterwards. Do you agree?”
“Yes, of course.” Her fingers laced with each other on her lap. She still didn’t know what this was all about. The only thing she knew was that Tarif was not looking at her.
A technician stood up to play the first video, which showed Anisah fighting against those who tried to attack the queen.
“Is this you, anisdi?”
“Nem, alshaykh.”
The second footage showed the palace’s outer gates swinging open and thus allowing the mob entry to the royal family’s residence. The person taking the video suddenly swung his camera towards one side, and this time she saw the gatehouse’s doors bursting open.
Whoever came out that door, she thought faintly, was likely involved in the plot to destabilize the kingdom’s government –
A woman finally came running out of the gatehouse, her body covered completely, her hair concealed from sight. She made a completely nondescript figure…except for that silver niqab.
Horror rose inside of her as she realized how that one piece of clothing could implicate her.
“Is that you, Lady Anisah?”
“N-no.”
Beside her, she heard Tarif hiss in disbelief, and the sound made her feel violently sick. She clumsily rose to her feet, and the sheikh lunged to his full height as well. “Tarif---” She tried to reach for him, but then she saw the look on his beautiful face, and her arm fell to her side.
He was looking at her…like she had turned into the same monster as his mother was.
“I k-know how bad things look,” she whispered, “but please believe me when I say I have nothing to do with the attack. The woman you all saw in the second video was my friend, Joanna. I bumped into her later on, and I b-borrowed her headdress to hide my identity. I didn’t want myself recognized, in c-case anything happened. I didn’t want Hyacinth to be affected---” Her voice trailed off.
Tarif still hadn’t spoken a single word.
“You believe me, don’t you?”
“There are also videos that show you disabling the security cameras in the royal library for a total of seventeen times in the past month alone.”
Anisah paled.
“Do you have an explanation for this?”
“I c-can’t---”
Tarif’s voice hardened. “What do you mean you fucking can’t?”
She looked at Andy. “I don’t want him to hear---”
“For fuck’s sake – right now I trust him more than I trust you.” A stricken look crossed her face at his words, but Tarif steeled himself against it. “Tell us what you were doing in the library, anisdi.”
She slowly shook her head.
“Goddammit---”
“Enough, Tarif.” The king issued the command grimly, knowing that only his interference could put an end, albeit temporary, to Tarif’s questioning. Looking at the pale, trembling woman before them, he said quietly, “It is imperative you answer the question, anisdi. What is your reason for disabling the cameras in the royal library?”
But still Anisah shook her head. “I cannot, Your M-Majesty---”
“I command you to speak the truth, Anisah.”
Her tears started to fall, and she furiously wiped them away. “I was in the library, reading the other palace historians’ accounts of the sheikh’s childhood. I wanted to know more about it. I wanted to understand it so I would n-never hurt the sheikh by doing anything that could remind him about her.”
She turned to face Tarif, hating herself for wanting to beg for his trust but even so – it was still what she ended up doing anyway. “Please believe me. That’s all I was doing.”
“And the security cameras?” he demanded harshly. “What purpose could you have for disabling them---”
“I didn’t want anyone to see what I was doing---” Tarif swore, and she realized how her words had only made things sound so much worse. “No, you misunderstand,” she cried out.
“You just fucking admitted---”
“I admit to nothing except that I love you!”
And as soon as the words were out, it was only then –
Only when she was about to lose him –
Only then did Anisah realize painfully that there was no ‘might’ about it, after all.
She was in love with Tarif Al-Atassi.
“P-Please.” Her voice threatened to break, and her heart along with it, but still she struggled to speak, needing this man she loved to believe her. “Listen to me, please. I did it for you, sheikh. I disabled the cameras because I knew there was a possibility my constant visits to the history vault could make the wrong person curious, and if that happened, stories about your childhood could surface and be used against you and the palace.”
She took a step towards him. “Please believe me---” She reached for his hands, but the sheikh only caught her wrists, and his fingers curled around her – no longer like a bond of protection this time. Instead, his fingers held her like one would cuff a criminal.
Something inside of her started to crack.
“Let her go, Tarif.” The king’s voice held a note of warning.
“There is no need to make any rash judgment, brother.” The gravity of Altair’s voice held a similar tone, cautioning Tarif from doing anything he might regret.
“We can have her detained while we search for evidence to refute or prove her claims,” Rayyan said curtly. “But until then, we must not treat her like a criminal---”
Tarif’s lip curled. “The way the whole kingdom didn’t treat my mother like a criminal until it was too late?”
A cry of hurt escaped Anisah. “I am not like your mother---”
“Are you not?” he asked bitterly. “You have always been a staunch defender of the traditional regime, anisdi. How do we know if all of this is not part of a grander scheme to bring down the palace and have our king overthrown?”
Understanding came to her in a painful flash, and her heart ached when she realized where the sheikh was finally coming from. “Oh, s-sheikh.”
The sheikh’s fingers loosened in an instant, his whole body turning rigid at the sound of her voice and the countless words in it that he knew she only meant for him to hear.
My love is real.
My love is true.
My love is yours.
“Tarif---”
“I don’t want to fucking hear a thing you say,” he snarled. All signs pointed to her betrayal. Did she not see that? Every fucking sign pointed to her making a goddamn fool of him, and still she dared to ask him to believe her?
The palace’s enemies demanded for a full-blooded Ramilian on the throne. Tarif was the only who fit the fucking description, and how fucking big a coincidence it was that he also happened to be the man she now claimed to love?
What if all those times she had resisted him were a mere ploy to keep his interest, and all along she had been planning to use him as a pawn – the way his own mother had?
“Tarif, believe me please---”
Her eyes told him that he had the power to kill or save her, but to believe that, he might as well as kill himself.
“I love you.”
To believe her would be to enslave himself under a woman who only wanted him for what he could give---
“Please…”
And so he chose…not to save her.
“How can I trust you,” he heard himself ask, “when you are your father’s daughter?”