Rayyan

by Marian Tee

  Mrs. Bauer’s brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  “The text message,” she admitted somewhat sheepishly. “I saw it was from your husband.”

  “Why you little---”

  “I couldn’t help it,” she protested. “I was curious!” She then added right away, “Is it what I think it is then?”

  The older woman shot her a cold look. “Have you not been taught about respecting other people’s privacy?”

  Hyacinth nodded sagely, saying, “So it is a lovers’ quarrel.”

  “Mind your own business!”

  “Care to tell me about it? Maybe I can help---”

  The older woman raised a brow. “And what would you know about love?”

  “How about you tell me what you know,” Hyacinth bargained, “and I’ll tell you what I know.” The words were meant to be a joke, and she had thought the other woman understood this, but Hyacinth was stunned speechless when her homeroom teacher actually took her seriously.

  It’s when the idea of him stealing a kiss makes you smile.

  It’s when the prospect of losing him to another woman makes you sick to your stomach.

  It’s when the thought of him in pain makes you want to hurt for him.

  Hyacinth was at a loss. That was way, way, way too deep for her.

  “And most of all…”

  Mrs. Bauer slowly pulled the loose sleeve of her abaya all the way up to her elbow until a small, plain rectangular tattoo was revealed.

  “This…”

  Hyacinth tried not to keep her confusion to herself. What the fuck was that? It was no different from all the temporary stamps she saw being used by cinemas and concerts, just minus the words.

  “Even when it’s no longer yours, you want it to still be a part of you.”

  Hyacinth’s eyes widened.

  Was Mrs. Bauer saying – her husband had left her? Or that Mr. Bauer no longer loved her?

  Countless questions threatened to tumble past her lips, but before she could say a single word, her homeroom teacher’s alarm went off again, and the moment was ruined.

  “Mrs. Bauer---”

  “Thank you for dropping by, Hyacinth.”

  The older woman’s voice was brisk and firm, the kind that was heavily underscored by the words ‘DROP IT’, and Hyacinth reluctantly did as asked.

  Seek counsel of him who makes you weep, and not of him who makes you laugh.

  The words came from a book Anisah had gifted her when she was young, a collection of proverbs that Anisah had unconsciously found herself relying on when her own words failed her. They always rang true, and the present was no different; Mrs. Bauer’s pain was not her pain, and to speak a single word of discomfort would only be a sign of disrespect.

  Even so, Hyacinth couldn’t stop herself from worrying, and the whole bus ride back to the palace was spent reviewing the older woman’s words. It was just so unlike Mrs. B. to show weakness, and she wondered if it was something she should speak to the sheikh about. She might not be able to help Mrs. B., but the sheikh was different. Right?

  Thoughts of Mrs. B lingered in her mind even as she joined Anisah for dinner and worked on her school paper afterwards. It was about eleven in the evening when she decided to call it a night, but instead of heading to bed, she found herself slipping out of the apartment to make a call.

  Pick up, sheikh.

  But her calls – all four of them – went straight to voice mail.

  And out of the blue, fear – invisible, palpable, and carnivorous – crawled down her spine, telling her what she shouldn’t know.

  Rayyan.

  Chapter Eight

  Even though it was far from the first time he had seen his esteemed employer take part in undercover raids, Gadi still felt the same sense of wonder as he watched Sheikh Rayyan Al-Atassi effortlessly blend with the rest of the black-outfitted members of S.W.A.T.

  Praise Al Afea for his courage!

  There really was no one like him, and Gadi was near tears as he thought of just how lucky he was, working for a modern-day hero like the sheikh.

  A moment later, the body cameras the agents wore started streaming real-time footage, and try as he might, Gadi was unable to stop himself from chewing on his nails when some of the monitors showed glimpses of the sheikh engaged in actual physical combat.

  How did his employer do it, Gadi wondered. It was like the man had been fighting crime all his life, rather than heading straight to battle after meeting his ex-mistress for dinner –

  Oops.

  The thought made Gadi flush guiltily, and he couldn’t help but steal a look at the girl seated quietly next to him. With a niqab covering her face and the loose folds of an abaya hiding her form, it was hard to tell if Hyacinth Kahveci shared the same fears and worries that beset him whenever the sheikh participated in a life-threatening mission.

  Hyacinth had taken Gadi entirely by surprise when she suddenly showed up at his apartment, shaking and white-faced with fear. He’s doing it again, isn’t he? Those raids we see on TV, he’s behind it, isn’t he?

  He had tried to lie and cover for the sheikh, but with Hyacinth threatening to disclose her knowledge to the king and time being of the essence, Gadi had no choice but to let the girl accompany him.

  And to her credit, she had been everything she promised. I’m not going to get in your way. I just want to be there and do what I can to keep the sheikh safe, even if all I can do is pray.

  She had stayed put in her seat while Gadi wheeled about in his seat, doing system checks and making sure all communication channels were working. Their mobile control center was housed in an unmarked van, parked several blocks away from where all the action was taking place.

  Hyacinth suddenly turned towards him, her dark gaze questioning, and Gadi felt his cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. He knew it was silly, but he couldn’t help worrying if his face might give something away and he would be at fault for Hyacinth finding out about Jemima Black.

  “Are you worried for the sheikh?” the girl asked.

  “I always am,” he admitted.

  Hyacinth patted his arm comfortingly. “Patience is the key of joy,” she quoted, “but haste is the key to sorrow.” She gave the sheikh’s PA a smile of assurance. “And the sheikh took as much time as was needed for this operation, didn’t he?”

  Gadi brightened. “That’s right.” Tonight’s sting operation was the finance department’s biggest and costliest one yet, involving months of dangerous undercover work for their operatives and round-the-clock surveillance across several sheikhdoms. Even so, it was still largely due to the sheikh’s bold and cunning application of the monarchy’s resources that they had been able to pinpoint the last operating base of the Izeaj. That was two months ago, and even though the other factions had wanted to make a move then and there, the sheikh had refused.

  We must bide our time. Let us give them as much rope as they need to hang themselves with.

  And just as it had always been, the sheikh’s efforts had paid off, with the latest intelligence report revealing information about Izeaj expanding its efforts to illegal firearm sales.

  Gadi was only able to draw a proper breath when the last of the criminals were finally rounded up.

  Phew.

  Hyacinth watched the color coming back to Gadi’s face and secretly envied him for it. The entire operation had only taken a mere fifteen minutes to conclude, thanks to the team’s flawless execution of its strategy, but even so, each second had felt like eternity, and her face still felt frozen with fear.

  Damn you, Rayyan Al-Atassi.

  The truth was, the face she had shown Gadi was nothing but false bravado. She hadn’t wanted to see Gadi fall apart because the moment he did, she knew that would be the end of her, too, and she would start bawling like a babe.

  DAMN YOU, RAYYAN AL-ATASSI.

  She caught sight of the sheikh in one of the monitors. He was taking his helmet off, and it was so fucking reminiscent of that day in the tu
nnels, she could feel her throat start to tighten. And that was when she knew.

  The sheikh started removing his balaclava, revealing his face inch by inch.

  It’s when the thought of him in pain makes you want to hurt for him.

  Her head lowered, her gaze blurring.

  No. No. No.

  This – this pain in her chest was different.

  It had to be different.

  In the other side of the room, she heard Gadi answer his phone in a strangely hushed voice, but Hyacinth was too busy trying not to go crazy to even care why that was.

  It’s when the thought of him in pain makes you want to hurt for him.

  Mrs. B. made it sound like love turned her into a martyr.

  But this was different.

  When she thought of the sheikh risking his life in battle, it made her want to pick up a gun and throw a fucking bomb under the enemy’s ass.

  That was not love.

  That was…love for country, which she, like the sheikh, possessed in spades.

  That was all –

  The doors to the van suddenly opened, and Hyacinth’s head jerked up.

  The sheikh, once again bloody and bruised, but still so damnably beautiful, blue eyes filled with mirth –

  Something in her snapped.

  “You fucking asshole!”

  Gadi stood in stunned horror as he watched the girl lunge for Al Afea like a rabid cat, screeching and clawing at whatever she could reach, and even more confusing was how the sheikh didn’t do a thing to stop her.

  It took a long time for Gadi to recover from his shock, but when he started to reach for Hyacinth, a cold warning look from the sheikh abruptly put a stop to his movements even as his confusion grew.

  Did that mean the sheikh was fine with his future bride assaulting him –

  Oh.

  Hyacinth’s arms had fallen to her sides.

  And then she was sliding to her knees, her shoulders rocking with silent sobs, and Gadi realized in appalled dismay how he had completely misread the whole situation.

  Rayyan slowly crouched down. “Maehdina.” I’m sorry.

  “Damn right you should be sorry,” she sobbed. “Fucking asshole.”

  His lips pressed together to keep himself from smiling. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Too late.” Hyacinth could barely breathe. The tears just kept falling. “You already did. Asshole.” She felt his arms slip around her, and she couldn’t even find the strength to struggle.

  The sheikh rose to his feet, Hyacinth in his arms, like a prince carrying his princess.

  Yuck.

  But she was still crying too hard to even manage a grimace, and when she felt his lips brush her forehead, all hell just broke loose.

  “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.”

  Love you. Love you. Love you.

  “It’s going to be alright, majamira.”

  “No. It’s not.” Her heart felt fit to explode. “B-Because I think I really love you, after all.”

  His lips touched her hair once more. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Her fist struck his chest. “Why can’t you just fall in love with me?”

  Nothing.

  “At least tell me…” Her voice broke. “Tell me I have a chance.”

  Silence.

  Her eyes squeezed shut.

  And then she heard the sheikh say, “You do. And more than anyone else in the world---” His arms tightened around her. “I’d want it to be you.”

  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.”