The Tremor of a Confession
The moon, veiled by frayed clouds, cast a pale light over the silent corridors of the palace. A light breeze slid along the walls like a whisper.
It was then that a soft rustle caught Nahia's attention.
A paper had just slipped under her door.
She approached, one hand resting on her still tender ankle. Every movement drew a faint grimace from her, but she couldn't ignore the tight knot of foreboding that was already forming in her chest. She picked up the note.
A familiar handwriting. Lively. Slightly trembling.
"Meet me at our place. — Y."
No promises. No explanations. Just that gentle… urgent summons.
She pressed the note to her chest, then wrapped her veil around her shoulders. Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from her chest. She stepped into the corridor, each step echoing painfully on the marble floor. Her sprain made her limp slightly, but she picked up the pace.
The garden appeared before her like a dream turned strange. Denser, darker than usual. The nighttime scents, usually soothing, felt heavy, almost overwhelming. And that warm wind, from the desert, whispered words in her ear she couldn't understand.
When she reached the edge of the lake, the black water shimmered under the moonlight like a sheet of obsidian.
There, on the large flat stone they had often shared while laughing, Yasmina was sitting, her back slightly hunched, a fragile silhouette beneath the vastness of the sky.
Nahia stopped.
There was something solemn, almost mournful, in the princess's posture. An invisible weight seemed to bow her shoulders.
To break the silence, Nahia attempted a smile.
— I greet you, oh Princess of the Desert, keeper of starry mysteries and confidante of silence...
No reply.
She moved forward slowly, carefully placing her aching foot, then sat beside her. Even the usual jasmine scent surrounding Yasmina felt distant tonight… almost gone.
— Yasmina? she whispered.
Silence. Then a phrase, like a soft blade.
— Assad is getting married.
The world fell out from under her.
The words struck Nahia with full force. Her breath caught. A sharp pain pierced from her chest to her stomach. Her hand instinctively went to her heart, as if to hold it together.
Her legs gave way. A whimper escaped her lips.
— Nahia! cried Yasmina, turning to her, alarmed. Are you hurt?
Nahia shook her head weakly.
— I… I don't know. It hurts… here, she murmured, pressing against her chest.
Yasmina watched her silently, then a gentle smile curved her lips.
— Tell me, Nahia… don't you feel anything for my brother?
Nahia's heart raced. She looked away.
— No… just respect. And admiration for the sheikh.
— Nothing more?
— No, she repeated, even softer.
— Do you know what love is?
— Yes. I loved my parents with all my heart. I love my sister Amaya more than my own life. And you, princess… I love you too.
A soft, tender laugh escaped Yasmina.
— That's not the kind of love I mean, Nahia.
— Then no. Why are you asking me this?
— Because I watch you. I see how your face changes when I mention him. And tonight, your heart spoke before you did.
Silence fell again.
— When I say "Assad"… what do you feel?
Nahia closed her eyes.
— I… I don't know how to explain it. When I hear his name, my heart speeds up. The air feels heavier, charged. When he looks at me… I'm afraid he'll see everything I want to hide. And when he looks away, I feel like I've lost something precious. When he speaks… I listen. Even if he's not speaking to me. And when he walks away… I feel empty.
She stopped, flustered, blushing.
— That's ridiculous…
— Nahia, said Yasmina with a radiant smile, you're in love. In love with Assad.
Nahia's breath caught. Her world wavered a second time.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Tears threatened, but she held them back.
She had just understood what her heart had known for a long time.
Yasmina slowly turned her gaze back to the lake.
— You're not the only one hurting… I'm in pain too. For him. For Assad.
— For him? Nahia whispered.
— He's making a mistake. He's going to marry Zeyneb out of duty, out of promise. Not out of love. I can see it. He's fighting… but he's already lost that fight.
She took a deep breath.
— And I hurt for her too. Zeyneb deserves to be loved. But Assad… his heart is elsewhere.
Nahia felt a shiver run through her.
— Elsewhere? she murmured. You mean… another woman?
Her thoughts raced. Who? A noble from the palace? A hidden lover?
Why did it hurt so much?
A tear rolled down her cheek.
Yasmina looked at her with infinite gentleness.
— It's you he loves, Nahia.
The world froze.
— What? she whispered.
— It's you, Yasmina repeated. I've seen him change. He listens when you speak. He searches for you with his eyes. And your name… he says it like a prayer. It's you, and no one else.
Nahia didn't move. The wind had fallen still. Her heart pounded wildly.
She couldn't believe it.
— Me?
Nahia remained silent, unable to form a single coherent thought. The weight of the revelation pressed on her chest, as if each heartbeat shook the fragile balance of her world.
The night had deepened around them, and even the stars seemed to hold their breath. Yasmina, beside her, kept her eyes on the lake, her face frozen in a painfully calm expression.
And it was then, in that vast silence, that Nahia understood.
— It should never have happened… not like this, Nahia murmured.
And that love, as deep as it was unexpected, she chose to bury it there, at the bottom of her silence.