The months leading up to my wedding moved at a snails pace. I found myself increasingly annoyed by the maidens of the palace as they told me how to act prim and proper for my new husband—I was never quiet enough; sweet enough; soft enough; emotional enough. Everything I did, any way I breathed, was wrong to the servants and maidens. The only person who let me be me was Idris. He seemed to come around more often than before, sitting in the chair of my room between my vanity and bed, carrying conversations with me I thought we’d never have again. I was able to talk to him about different books I’d been reading, and practice languages with him. We often spoke in Otlank, as I was determined to perfect my accent to impress Duke Shahin. I thought about him often; his serious eyes, and how his luscious hair fell perfectly into place. Idris would snap me out of daydreams of the wedding with annoyed phrases in Otlank.

“He’s a Lutrov, Hala.” He said as I watched a hare out of my window. His voice was so rigid in Otlank, but he always spoke with such softness, it almost didn’t sound like the language I’d been learning.

“Who’s a Lutrov?” I asked, switching to Otlank to carry the conversation.

“The Duke. Don’t trust him.”

I was confused by his words, “What do you mean?” I pressed.

“His smile never reaches his eyes, and haven’t you noticed? Everyone always agrees with him—not out of earnest, but because they have to.” Idris said, his voice growing more bitter as he spoke.

“I’m sure you’re making a mountain of a mole hill, again.” I insisted.

Idris bristled, shaking his head as he leaned against the back of his armchair. I turned on my bed to look at him, confused by his vitriol for the Duke. He seemed kind enough, a real charmer whenever I saw him at parties and social gatherings. Idris always kept me from him before I was betrothed to him, though, as if I’d get hurt just by being too close. I looked Idris in his eyes, as they scanned my face with worry. I could tell something more was bothering him, but over the last few months I had enjoyed our time together too much to try asking him. His expression seemed softer than usual, so I worked up the courage to finally ask him.

“Idris,” I asked. Bristle. “What is it? Why are you so friendly all of a sudden?”

“No particular reason. I’ve turned over a new leaf since Jidhaq.” He replied.

I almost laughed at him, but he truly had lost weight over the last month in particular. Jidhaq lasted three weeks, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d actually participated in the fasting. He was even skinnier than before. Maybe he wanted more good favor from God for starting at a younger age.

“Sure…” I replied, leaning against the headboard of my bed.

Idris, while friendlier, also seemed more observant over the last month, making sure I was always in his line of sight unless I was bathing or changing, or sleeping. If he could have, I think he would have moved into my room.

“It’s to make sure I don’t go breaking the promise I made your father, Hala.” He told me when I asked him about it.

The promise he’d made almost eight years ago, now, when we were children. He was supposed to keep me from sneaking out of the palace, and I think Father was extra harsh on him since announcing my marriage to the Duke. Thankfully, he kept my escape to the brothel between the two of us.

————————————————————————————————————

I had been sitting in my room when Idris’ familiar knock thumped on my door. Heavily scrutinizing a singular pimple that had chosen to show up on my cheek, and valuing every inch of personal space I’d had that day, I called out to him to come in, my voice carrying my annoyance towards the interruption. He poked only his head in, before opening the door fully.

“Can’t you at least keep your door open?” He snarked.

“Can’t you mind your own business, and give me some privacy?” I retorted.

I could see in his eyes that he found my comment humorous, but his voice was laced with dismay. “I’m tasked with watching over you, and I’m not giving you time to sneak off to a brothel again.”

Idris eyed the makeup pans sitting on my vanity, as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Putting on your clown disguise, again?”

I shot him an annoyed glance from the reflection in the mirror, and he snickered at his own joke. I wish I had taken my slipper off and thrown it at him.

“I’m not.” I hissed. “I’ve gotten better at it than the last time you saw me!”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, hunching his neck in an antagonistic manner before taking a couple of long strides into the room. He sat down in his armchair, and I gave another annoyed look at him,

“I have!” I repeated as I took one of the small makeup brushes and began doing my makeup.

I took a dark brown shadow to my inner-crease, fanning it up towards my eyebrows and winging it. Once it was blended to my liking, I brought a creamy white color to the corners of my eyes, patting it in place before doing the same with a gold powder on the centers of my lids.

I looked at my enemy from the last time Idris saw me—the coal—and brought it to my lashes and upper lid lining. The application was as close to flawless as I could get, so I turned to Idris in triumph. He leaned onto his knees, inspecting the work I’d done, trying to come up with some kind of insult to throw my way by the look he’d been wearing. I knew I was the victor when he leaned back into the armchair with a brooding expression.

“Yeah, looks better than last time.” He grumbled.

His face fell for a moment, poignant. It was the week before my wedding, and his temper had been on much more of a hair’s trigger. The servants were fearful to even breathe in his direction, lest they get yelled at. He took a deep breath, leaning forward again as he looked at me intently. After a long moment of silence, he spoke again.

“I don’t think you should go, Themaz.” He admitted. I’d never heard him use the term for me, and it sent my heart aflutter. I’d only used it on my closest girl friends, or facetiously towards Jamila. Never had I heard it uttered from a young man’s lips towards me.

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I blinked.

“I have to, Idris. I have no choice.”

His throat bobbed a few times as he broke eye contact, choosing to stare at the floor. “You don’t think it’s a bit…odd to marry a man you’ve only met a few times in passing?” He asked, growing more defensive as he spoke.

I kept calm, watching him with growing concern. “I’ve been raised to marry whomever my family saw fit, Idris.”

“You don’t expect to love the man you marry?” Bitterness laced his voice, and he was fighting his lips from curling into a frown. I recalled the last time I’d seen a similar look in his eyes, when I’d asked him about his parents. The only time I’d ever asked him. I had to think carefully about my next words.

“Love is a positive byproduct of a political marriage. Nobility and Royalty don’t marry for love.” I replied hesitantly. I only knew how to tell the truth in that moment, and the words came out much more blunt than I’d wanted them to.

Idris brought his index finger and thumb to his eyes, rubbing them gently as he breathed in deeply once more. After he held his breath for longer than what must have been comfortable, I put my hand on his knee and squeezed it.

“Idris.” I said.

He picked his head up and loosed a breath, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. It was the most emotion I’d seen him have in years. My heart nearly exploded.

“They have bunnies, you know.” I told him, forcing a smile.

He let out the remainder of his breath, another poignant expression on his face as he nodded. His eyes went slightly downcast, and he finally broke the mask. His lips contorted into the frown I’d watched him fight as he recalled how much I loved the small creatures. I’d told him numerous times how leggy and awkward the Hares in Mahsul were.

“Yeah…” he whispered. His voice broke as he spoke.

“It might be cool, you know. I could show you all of the spots I find, just like when we were kids.” I told him, tracing circles on his knee in as soothing a manner as I could.

Bristle.

“Yeah…” he whispered again, taking in another shaky breath. He put his head down again, burying it under his arm and taking a moment to compose himself as his shoulders trembled. In a swift and abrupt movement, he stood and stretched his limbs. His tears still stained his cheeks, but he wore a smile. My expression betrayed me, as he cocked an eyebrow once we’d made eye contact again.

“What?” He asked. “Do you see me as less of a man, now?” His voice was still a bit raw from emotion.

“No.” I smiled. “Just wondering which version of you I’m going to get next.”

————————————————————————————————————

I’d grown so suffocated the night before my wedding, after trying on so many gowns my head began to spin and arguing with maidens over floral arrangements. I had to escape to the roof. I laid there, sprawled out upon the shingles and watching the stars as bugs of all kinds came and went. I didn’t mind their company, especially the lunar moths. They were always so beautiful this time of year, mature and fully grown into their markings. Their vibrant colors would hypnotize me as I laid there, letting them crawl onto my finger and admiring them under the moonlight. A yellow-bodied moth had become my newest friend as I took in its mint green eyes and russet wings. The feeling of the slight chill in Mahsul’s air was something I could sit in forever atop this roof, wrapping me up in its serenity. The tail end of winter was such a nice time in my homeland.

I heard a muffled voice call my name, instantly recognizing it as I begrudgingly shooed the moth away. I scooted down a bit to let my shoe hang off of the roof, hinting to whomever was looking for me that I was still here, safe and sound. The voice called out once more, before I heard a few areas of my room being rummaged through—most likely my closet and chest of drawers. The balcony door flew open, before a huff and footsteps came climbing the lattice. Idris grunted to lift himself up on the roof, looking at me with scornful eyes. I didn’t have a single six-legged friend to help me as I sat up and looked at him.

“Hala, you scared the shit out of me!” He chided me.

“I have to keep you on your toes, Idris.” I chuckled.

Bristle.

My friend took a seat next to me as he watched me with both annoyance and entertainment. His gaze met the stars, and I looked over at him as his eyes reflected the millions of shimmering lights littering the sky.

“What are you up here pondering?” He finally asked, shooting me a sidelong glance.

I sighed, recalling the floral dispute I’d had with the maidens earlier, along with a particular maiden telling me to keep my volume in check.

I laid down, hitting the roof with a thud. “Why the maidens keep telling me to stop being so loud.”

Idris looked at me for a split second, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah? I heard you yelling at them earlier for trying to get you to carry irises down the aisle tomorrow—do they really make your throat swell?”

“No,” I scoffed. “I just think they’re pathetic-looking flowers.”

Idris sighed, shaking his head with disapproval as a dry laugh escaped his lips. I almost pinched him, finding his belittling nature to be enraging.

“No wonder the maidens are asking you to stop being such a hassle…” he muttered softly.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, cutting my eyes at him scornfully for a second. He paused and chuckled again.

“They’re not fitting of someone of your stature.” He corrected himself.

I readjusted myself after another long pause, turning on my side and propping my head on my hand to look at him. He was already looking at me, but he looked a little out of it. “If they’re going to make me carry a bouquet, it might as well be with nice flowers.” I stated.

Idris’ eyes widened for split second, and he looked down at the shingles. His face contorted with something—maybe it was dismay, or maybe scorn, but he was unhappy with what I’d said. I knew that much for sure. He sighed frustratedly, and I leaned forward a bit.

“What?” I asked in response to his sigh. “Do you think I should just carry whatever they give me?”

“No, no,” he replied. “I was just thinking about how making you carry irises is stupid.”

I knew he was lying, but I let his obvious dissatisfaction slide.

“Tiger Lilies would be nice…” I murmured as my eyes fell to the shingle I toyed with.

“Much more befitting of the daughter of Al’Namir.” He replied, his voice a bit distant as he looked up at the stars.

I was lost in his eyes the moment I looked back at them. I wish I’d realized then, that I’d been feeling something for Idris that was genuine. Peace. Tayir’s words echoed through my mind:

Similarly to how you feel when the haze of warmth slips you off to sleep, he’ll bring you such peace.

I stifled the thought, focusing on the wedding I’d be having the next day. I kept my eyes on Idris, though, finding his eyes so hypnotic that it made my head swim. I didn’t know it, but a smile had crept unto my face. It didn’t hit me that I’d been staring at Idris until he tweaked an eyebrow at me, returning my gaze.

“I got something on my face?” He asked.

“No, I was just thinking about how nice your eyes look under the stars.”

Bristle.

“You always says such weird things.”

“Weird, or honest?” I asked.

“Weird.” He reassured me.

I rolled onto my back again, chuckling as I watched the stars gleam and shine. I knew deep down that I’d miss such exchanges once I’d made it to Otlak. I relished in the moment, hoping to never lose the sound of his voice in my memory. We sat in silence for a long time, listening to the crickets as they chirped.

“You promise you’ll come visit as often as you can?” Idris’ voice broke the silence.

“I promise, Idris.” I replied.

He bristled again