❝My love will drown you to the depths of the sea.❞
Furat bin Kiyan, the fleet admiral of Al Andalus, is a spy and a rebel on a mission to kill the caliph of Cordoba and claim the throne for himself. But finds himself in trouble at the hands of Rahaf...
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"ZURARAH BIN HIRASH wishes to marry Rahaf bint Motassem."
Furat looks up from the dagger in his hand to Rouzbeh at the declaration. His friend stands in the doorway of his room.
"What?"
Rouzbeh walks inside and closes the door behind him. He makes himself comfortable in the chair beside him and rests his elbow on the armrest, leaning his cheek against his fist.
"I heard it myself. Ameer Hirash asked for the Amira's hand in marriage for his son. Aswad bin Motassem mentioned it before me."
Furat sheathes his dagger. "So I've another Kanan in my way when I just got rid of one?"
"Yes, and this one isn't stupid either to fall for your tricks," Rouzbeh adds in a manner as if to rub salt on his wounds. "Not to mention the Ameer has made him his grand advisor and might like to see him as his brother-in-law more than you."
Furat frowns, giving Rouzbeh a cutting look. "I wish your speech wasn't as repulsive as your face right now."
He laughs lowly at his annoyance. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Hit you in the face if another word comes out of your mouth to my dislike."
"I'm asking about Zurarah." Rouzbeh straightens, edging forward towards him. "Seriously though, what if he becomes a hindrance in our way?"
"I wouldn't worry much. He already has a lover."
"How do you know?"
"I heard him mentioning it to someone."
"But he didn't deny his father's wishes when the Ameer asked for his opinion. He rather said that he wishes the same."
Furat scoffs. "Then I'll expose him if a need arises. For now, I know Rahaf isn't interested in him even if he is."
"Such faith in her." Rouzbeh smirks and leans back in his chair, crossing both his arms and his ankles. "Did you manage to spark her interest in you?"
"Keep watching."
Furat straps the dagger to his thigh and stands up. He goes to fetch his sword, hooks it to his belt, and wraps his cloak around himself.
"Where are you going?" Rouzbeh asks.
"Somewhere with the Amira."
"Liar," he mocks.
"Want to accompany us?"
Rouzbeh lifts both his eyebrows skeptically. "What are you up to?"
