IT'S BEEN a hundred and one days, and over eighty-five girls have died. Their screams were heard from the halls of the castle, awaking the villagers of Raymoor at night.
Noor would sit by the shop near her house and watch girls from around the empire come to wed the king, only to be dead by dawn's first light.
She heard stories, of course. The king had fallen ill and had to have a wife, a sultana who would share his pain. The curse was so strong that blood would come out of their eyes, their skin would wither and drain of life, and their body would be nothing but a lifeless corpse.
Noor didn't know whether to believe such tales, but the screams and cry for help have made her realize that they might not all be lies.
She pushed the towel into the bucket of water before pulling it out and squeezing the liquid off. Sweat drenched her forehead and long brown hair, the effects of not bathing earlier taking its way. She had been helping her father around the barn, washing the cows and feeding the sheep.
He promised her he'd let her ride one of his groomed horse as long as she helped him finish his chores for the day. After all, she had no school.
Noor wiped her forehead with the cloth and proceeded to rub it down her neck. Dark blots of dirt and mud imprinted on the towel, revealing her caramel skin in a brighter shade.
When she finished washing her face and neck, she walked towards her house to see her little brother running around with the other kids in the village.
Noor smiled at them before dodging one of them who almost bumped into her.
With a smile, she entered her home, only to frown with wide eyes.
Both her parents had swords held to their necks, as the guards dared to hurt them.
"Ah, I thought she out of the village riding her horse," the guy in the middle smiled. He was wearing clothes of nobility. The dark blue velvet draped over his shoulder with silver fabricated designs flowing down. His brown hair was groomed neatly, including his facial hair.
"Is there something I can help with?" She whispered, not being able to move from her spot from the fear of triggering the sword to push through her parent's necks.
"Yes, you can. We've come asking for your presence, but your parents decided to lie and say you were out on a horse ride. I remember the king's last order was to chop off any one's hands if they dare to stop us from getting you. Do you think we should do that?"
"No! They weren't lying, I had just come."
She didn't know if her lie was believed by the man in front of her, the sweat she earlier cleaned returning to her forehead.
"Well then, I can let this pass. As long as you comply with what we ask of you, we promise no harm to your parents."
Noor knew where this was going, and she didn't want to believe it. "W-what would you need me for?"
A wicked smile appeared on his face, something unpleasant that made her uncomfortable. "I'm sure you're no fool. You've heard that the sultan is searching for a queen to wed.
"You've been honorably picked to wear the crown and be the sultana by his side."
"How would you know if I'll survive it?"
"I'm quite sure you'll be the one to survive it. My visions are never wrong."
Noor gulped, trying to push down the lump in her throat as she watched her parents in pity.
"Fine-"
"Noor no!" Her father protested, only to have the sword pressed harder against his neck.
"Fine I'll go, just don't hurt them!"
Tears fought their way to her eyes as her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palm.
The nicely dressed man waved his hand, the guards moving away from the parents only to have them march her way and grab her by the arms.
"We thank you for your hospitality, the king will send his thanks."
Noor watched her parents try to catch up to her helplessly while the guards dragged her away.
"Noor! Noor, where are you going?!"
Her head turned instantly to see her brother, eyes filled with tears.
"Wait-"
The guard tugged her, not letting her go to the direction she wanted to go to.
"Wait, let me bid him well!"
The man looked at her before looking at the guards. They slowly let her go rushing to her little brother who bundled up in her hold.
"Where are you going?"
She squeezed him tighter, not wanting to watch him cry. "I'm going on a little trip. I'll be back."
"Where are you going, Noor?"
"On a trip. I'll bring you sweets, and those wooden carved figures you always wanted."
He had stopped sniffling, a small smile on his face.
"You want the ship, right?" She continued, her fingers tangled in his curls.
"Yes, I want the ship."
"Then I'll go on my trip, and I'll come back with honey dripped sweets, wooden ship figures, and stories to let you lay in my arms at night. Are we clear?"
"Yes." He hugged her tighter. "You'll be back, right?"
She folded her lips together to trap the sob to dared to unravel. "I would never leave you, Jamil. Not intentionally. And if I did, may I be cursed for my sins."
"I believe you, Noor. Please be safe."
It broke her. She had lied to her little brother. To her best friend. She kissed his head, his cheek, his knuckles, and his stomach while he giggled before resting her head on his hair.
"I will."
A hand rested on her shoulders, the man looking at her with no emotions on his face. "It's time to leave."
Jamil jumped off her arms and ran to the man behind her, tugging at the end of his cape. "Are you going on the trip with her?"
Noor was shocked at how her brother didn't hesitate to talk to him. "Jamil-"
She paused when the man bent down to the five-year-old, a soft smile on his lips.
"Yes, I am."
She watched as Jamil pulled him in closer to whisper in his ears. As he did, the man chuckled.
"I will," he said before standing up. His happy expression turned serious, his hand gesturing for Noor to follow ahead of him.
She turned around to face her parents, giving them one last smile before allowing the guards to hold her again.