The palace still held the hush of night when the Malika entered her son's chambers.
She did not knock.
The guards at the entrance stepped aside without a word, and her silken slippers made no sound on the stone floors. She moved like a shadow trained by a lifetime of watching men rule from behind curtains.
In the far corner, the small furnace still glowed. Tariq stood beside it, shirt half-buttoned, as if he'd only just risen from sleep. Aneesa sat at the low table, hair loosely braided, a scroll forgotten in her lap.
The Queen's eyes swept over the room.
Her son.
Aneesa.
The silence that had wrapped around them like smoke.
"I trust I'm not interrupting," she said.
Aneesa stood immediately and bowed, but neither of them answered immediately.
"I see you've decided to meet me earlier," Tariq said, straightening.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm timely."
She moved toward the center of the room and remained standing.
"I've come with a counterproposal."
Aneesa stood, confused about what was happening. Tariq and his mother had been communicating, but about what she did not know. She hadn't left his side since she entered his chambers some days ago.
The Malika turned to her first.
"You've done well," she said. "Better than I expected. You've earned more than scrolls and library hours. You've earned a place here."
Aneesa replied hesitantly, "Thank you, but I don't understand the accomplishments you praise me for."
"I would like to offer you new quarters," the Malika continued. "A room in my wing of the Alhambra. Private. Protected. Along with a new title: Advisor to the Crown."
Tariq's eyes flicked to Aneesa, then back to his mother.
"You would make her part of the court?"
"Oh, I would make her more than that," the Malika said. "She would no longer be part of the harem. She would answer only to me…and of course to you."
Aneesa's heart pounded.
"But this title comes with vows," the Malika said evenly. "If you agree to my protection, this new power, and the right to walk these halls as more than a favored shadow. Then you must pledge your absolute loyalty even above your own life.
"Loyalty to whom?" Aneesa asked softly.
The Malika's gaze did not waver.
"To my son. And to the future of this kingdom."
Aneesa felt the breath catch in her chest.
"You're asking for my hand." She said, turning to Tariq and then to his mother
"I'm asking for your alignment," the Malika said. "Your hand will follow. As will the court's blessing, in time."
"And what would secure it?" Aneesa asked. "My intellect? My counsel?"
The Queen was silent for a beat.
"A child," she said after a calculated pause.
The room went still. Tariq stiffened, and Aneesa looked as though the floor had vanished beneath her.
"A child would silence the court in regards to your past," the Malika said. "The nobility would have no choice but to bend. The people still believe in signs. In legacy. And in blood."
"Do you?" Tariq asked.
"I believe in survival," his mother said. "What an honor it will be to carry on your lineage, to hold a prince in her womb."
She turned to Aneesa.
"Child, you've already given him your body. I'm asking if you'll give him your future."
She stepped back, drawing her shawl around her.
"You may say no. But if you say yes, know that everything changes."
Neither Aneesa nor Tariq spoke. The Malika's words hung in the air heavy and thick.
She walked to the door, then paused.
"You both want freedom," she said. "But you'll only find it if you're willing to own the cage." And then she was gone.
The door had barely closed behind the Malika when Tariq turned away from it, jaw clenched, shoulders stiff.
He didn't speak. Not right away.
Aneesa remained where she stood, eyes still fixed on the stone where the Malika's shadow had disappeared.
"She is trying to protect us, surely you see that," Aneesa said finally, breaking the silence.
"Maybe," Tariq replied. "Or she is simply trying to maintain power."
He paced to the edge of the room, then back again, hands threading through his hair.
"She's laying a trap. For someone. It would be foolish to believe that protection in this palace doesn't come at a cost."
Aneesa turned to face him, her voice calm but cold. "What cost do you think I haven't already paid?"
He stopped staring intensely at her as he pondered her words. Then his face was struck with what appeared to be worry.
"You were never meant to be a target," he said. "And this…this offer, it paints a mark on your back. My mother's protection is not armor. It's a signal. And the court will hear it."
"So what, they already whisper," Aneesa snapped. "They already conspired against you. They will hate that I walk with you, read what you read, breathe where you breathe. This changes nothing, except that now I don't have to keep hiding. I will be in a better position to help your family…our family survive."
He flinched at her word as he let them ring in his mind.
Our family.
She stepped closer, fire rising in her voice.
"Do you know what it felt like to hear you say I was just a concubine? That my body was expected? That I should be grateful?"
"That's not what I meant," he started before she interrupted.
"But you said it. And now that I've been offered the chance to make something more of myself, you flinch again. Why?" she asked.
"Because I'm afraid!" he shouted.
The words shocked them both.
Tariq turned away, then slowly faced her again.
"I'm afraid," he said, quieter now. "That if you agree to this… they'll come for you. You'll no longer be invisible. You'll be a threat."
"I already am," Aneesa whispered. A long silence passed between them.
Then she said, softer, "Why is it so hard for you to imagine that I want this? That I would choose you not because I have to… but because I do?"
He looked at her, torn open.
"I don't want you to be forced into motherhood just to earn your place."
"And what if I want to be a mother?" she asked. "What if I want to belong to something, to someone, because I choose to? Because I love you?"
Tariq was left speechless as Aneesa stepped forward and placed a hand on his heart.
"Have you thought about it?" she asked quietly, "A child?"
He hesitated. His hand came to rest over hers.
"Yes," he said. "I have loved you since the moment I first saw you. This is exactly what I have always wanted."
She tilted her head.
"Then why hesitate?"
"It isn't hesitation so much as it may be disbelief. Have I conjured this? Or is this all my mother's bidding?"
"Whatever you believe is happening. Know that I willingly pledge my future to you."
Tariq pressed his forehead to hers.
"You'll be the kind of Mother they write poems about," he said before drawing her into a kiss that felt like a vow.