Mahmud had his servant pour wine for him and his guest, and he took a sip and waited for the sheikh to do the same before finally speaking.
"I hear you've been looking for my daughter's former companions."
Altair slowly put his goblet down. While he had already been able to track down Beatriz, the eunuch who used to care for the princess was another matter. Even so, Altair had not lost hope that he would be able to eventually reunite Safiya with both Beatriz and Urwa. It would have been a surprise for his betrothed...as well as a prelude for him to declare his feelings for her. Old-fashioned as fuck, but he believed the princess would have wanted it no other way. That had been the plan, but now...
If you speak the word it shall own you, and if you don't you shall own it.
It was an old Arabic saying that Altair had always believed it to be true, and the words had never weighed heavier in his mind than they did now. It was one thing to know and feel that his heart now beat for the princess, but for him to speak those words...
He just didn't fucking know if he could still risk pushing through with it.
"You appear lost in thought."
Altair recalled himself with an effort at the older man's words. "Maehdina." I'm sorry. "And as for Urwa..." How the fuck had Safiya's father heard about it when the whole fucking search was supposed to be a secret?
Mahmud simply shrugged at the other man's narrowed gaze. "I do not need to leave this house to have eyes and ears in the outside world."
"That sounds like a warning," Altair drawled.
"But it is not. I am only stating a fact, alshaykh, and whether you believe me or not..." Mahmud's voice turned gruff. "I was not lying either when I promised you justice and retribution in exchange for my daughter's care. I know my past actions suggest otherwise, but she matters a lot to me."
"You're right," Altair said after a moment. "Your past actions suggest otherwise."
"I deserve that," Mahmud acknowledged with a grimace. "But even so...it still does not make my words a lie."
Altair's jaw clenched. "You truly expect me to believe that one of my kinsmen is a traitor?"
The princess' father did not speak right away, and when he did, the older man threw Altair for a loop when he suddenly started talking about Safiya's deceased mother.
"She was the sweetest little thing, alshaykh. The kindest and the prettiest. Not a single evil bone in her body. And my daughter, she takes after her mother in every way, so you can just imagine how hard and fast I had fallen for her."
A reminiscing smile briefly softened the man's weathered features.
"And then there was me. An ugly, coarse-mannered mug who shouldn't have had a shot in hell at winning her hand. But I did. Why she chose me over all the others will probably remain as one of the world's greatest mysteries. But she did. And we eloped. Her parents never forgave her for marrying me, and their disapproval hurt her badly. It was why I swore then...I would make my daughter the queen of Ramil so her parents would see that Maia had not been wrong in choosing me."
Altair remained silent as he pondered Mahmud's words. What was the other man's point in telling him this? Or did Safiya's father simply mean to remind Altair that he, too, was nothing but an ugly mug next to his ethereal-looking daughter?
"When my wife died...I lost my mind a little. All I could think of was bringing honor to Maia's memory, and Safiya...she reminded me too much of my wife at that time I could not bear looking at her. So I decided it was best to simply throw myself at making Farigha rich while I left it to the others to educate and train my daughter in the way that was befitting a future queen."
There was another moment's silence, and then Mahmud said in a voice filled with harshly bitter self-loathing, "In all those times I was gone, I had not known that the man I put in charge was the kind who raped women and beat children. The kind that constantly punished my daughter with starvation because any other punishment would've left damning evidence."
Altair's face had turned ashen by the time Mahmud finished speaking. "Who is he?"
"I believe you've already met him. Saul—-" Mahmud saw the younger man's gaze darken, and he knew right away that Altair had recognized the name.
"Is that not the name of your right-hand man?" Altair gritted out.
"Nem."
"Where is he now?" Altair demanded.
"He escaped during the revolt." Mahmud's voice was flat. "I have not seen or heard from him again, but if I do..." The older man's voice turned vicious. "He would wish he had never been born."