If there ever came a time he would be asked to lay down his life for her, she knew he would do so without hesitation. She trusted very few people in this world, but those she did trust, such as her father, Urwa, and Lady Beatriz, she trusted implicitly and loved unconditionally. She trusted and loved them even knowing that they could hurt her, and she did so because she knew that even if they were to hurt her, it would never be because they wanted to...the way people like Lord Saul did.
People like Lord Saul always knew what they were doing, and they were the kind of people Safiya stayed as far away from as possible. People like Lord Saul never changed; when hurting others, they did so by choice and without guilt, and it was for these reasons Safiya would never trust her father's right-hand man and his ilk.
In Safiya's life, to love had no consequences while to trust could mean the difference between life and death. Trust took time, and it was why even though she thought the world of Yara, there was still a part of herself that Safiya kept secret from the other girl. Trust was a gift that had to be earned, and so when Sheikh Altair said the words he did—-
What would you say...if I told you I agreed to the betrothal because I wanted you?
It had filled her with such joy and relief she could have wept then and there.
If Sheikh Altair had told her he had accepted the betrothal because he was in love with her, it would have crushed Safiya completely. As those words could only be lies, it would have meant he was a lie as well, and that her beloved hero was just as devious and dishonest as Lord Saul.
But because he had said what he did—-
Safiya knew then that the kingdom's military commander was truly what she hoped and dreamt him to be, and her heart started to race as she prepared herself to speak the truth.
For most of her life, she had been careful. For most of her life, she had held her tongue and hidden her thoughts behind dutiful nods and smiles. Being careful was all she knew, and for so many times, being careful was the only thing that had allowed Safiya to stay alive for another day.
If she were to be careful even with the sheikh, then it was best to say nothing and continue with her old and trusted ways. But because this was the sheikh, and he was the man who had showed her the light in her darkest moment—-
"It would mean the world to me if you truly did mean that, alshaykh..."
Altair nearly raised a brow at this. Would it, really?
"But I'm afraid you might've been misled about me." Although a part of Safiya wished she didn't have to say such words, she also knew she hadn't any choice. This was her beloved sheikh, and because she could never ever lie to him—-
"I know people think I am meek and submissive," Safiya went on to confess.
Altair leaned back against his seat. "Are you saying you're not, hamira?"
"What I am saying, alshaykh," she answered carefully, "is that I've learned from a young age it is easier for everyone around if I appeared to be what was expected of me. That is, in fact, the only reason I agreed to my father's plans. I had to play along as it was my only shot of leaving Farigha. I meant to escape and live a life of my own—-"
This time, the sheikh's brow did arch.
"But after what happened..." Safiya's voice turned pensive. "I knew then the king loved his queen, and if so, it would only be a matter of time before his betrothal to me would be dissolved."
"You have no aspirations to become queen?"
Safiya shook her head.
"Then why didn't you make your escape as planned?"
"Because I know of our laws," Safiya answered quietly. "Once the betrothal was dissolved, the royal family would only have two choices for restitution."
"So there was something you were hoping the king would grant you..."
The way the sheikh was looking at her now told Safiya he expected her to reveal what this something was, and Safiya felt torn.
Help me, Mama.
Safiya knew it was silly to pray to one's dead mother for help. She had always known this, but she still did it anyway. The foolish side of hers could be quite stubborn, and just as it insisted on believing in shooting stars and wishing wells, it also insisted on dead mothers looking after their stupid, stupid daughters...
And right now, her dead mother was saying—-
Yallaqihana, jahri.
The truth, my jewel.
Safiya's fists clenched involuntarily, and she could only be thankful her hands were hidden from the sheikh's view.
Imaginary or not, her dead mother was right. To lie to the sheikh was to dishonor him, and so...