That morning, when Nahia returned to her quarters, a carefully folded note awaited her on her bedside table. The elegant, unmistakable handwriting left no doubt—Yasmina was back.
> "Nahia,
I'm back.
I'd like to see you. Come to my rooms when you have a moment.
Y."
Her heart tightened slightly. She stood still for a moment, her fingers curled around the paper.
Part of her longed to see Yasmina again. Her sudden absence had left a void, and though Nahia hadn't shown it, she'd often found herself thinking of her.
But the other part… the part that had been avoiding anything remotely connected to Assad for days, resisted.
Yasmina was part of that world. His world.
And Nahia had promised herself to walk away from it.
She remained there, hesitant, still holding the note.
But in the end, the pull was stronger than her resolve.
She left her quarters, made her way down the quiet corridors, and finally stopped in front of Yasmina's door.
A brief breath later, she knocked softly.
The door opened almost instantly, as if Yasmina had been waiting just behind it.
— Nahia!
A radiant smile lit up her face. Without giving her time to react, she pulled Nahia into a warm embrace.
But Nahia didn't return the hug. She stood stiff, arms by her sides.
Yasmina felt it immediately and gently stepped back.
— You're angry... she sighed. I'm sorry I didn't let you know. I know I left without a word. But this trip was... complicated.
Nahia lowered her gaze. She didn't know what to say.
In truth, she wasn't really angry.
Just... unmoored. Everything had been shifting lately, crumbling around her.
— How long have you been back? she asked, her voice slightly hoarse.
— Last night. I didn't sleep. I only wanted to see you.
Yasmina stepped aside, gesturing to a chair near the window.
— Do you want to sit down? We can talk. Or not. Whatever you want. I just needed to see you.
I missed you, Nahia.
Nahia hesitated for a second, then sat down.
Her gaze drifted toward the curtains swaying gently in the morning light.
— I missed you too, she finally admitted.
A soft silence followed, then Yasmina placed a hand over hers.
— Are you okay?
— I do what I have to. I work, I take care of Amaya, I... I go on.
Yasmina watched her for a long moment.
She sensed something else. Something broken.
But she didn't press. Not yet.
— I'm here, you know.
Even if I wasn't these last few days... I'm here now.
Nahia gave a slow nod. A faint smile crossed her lips.
— Thank you, Yasmina.
Yasmina gently released Nahia's hand and sat beside her on the small couch.
Turning slightly toward her, she continued in a calm voice:
— It wasn't a vacation, or just a trip...
It was my cousin—my maternal uncle's daughter—getting married in Fes.
And since my mother couldn't leave my father's sickbed, and Assad was too busy with kingdom affairs... I had to represent our family.
Nahia turned to her, more attentive.
— I wanted to write, but everything happened so fast. And... I didn't want to send a rushed letter. I wanted to speak to you face to face.
She paused, then smiled softly, with a trace of sadness.
— I missed you, Nahia. Truly.
Even surrounded by music, festivities, gowns and jewels... there was an emptiness.
Because you weren't there.
Because I didn't know if you were okay, or if you'd withdrawn even further.
Silence settled again for a moment.
Then Nahia let out a long sigh.
— You know, I'm not angry about your leaving...
I'm more upset that you're part of that world I'm trying so hard to escape.
You remind me that no matter what I do, I'm always on the edge.
— Maybe... Yasmina replied gently,
But sometimes, it's those who live on the edge who end up reconciling the worlds.
She placed her hand over Nahia's, without insistence.
— I'm not here to pressure you into anything.
I'm just here—for you, if you'll still have me.
Nahia glanced at her sideways. Her eyes shimmered, but this time no tears fell.
— You're a storm, Yasmina...
But maybe I needed a little wind to breathe again.
A quiet smile spread across Yasmina's lips.
She didn't answer, but gently squeezed her hand.
---
Yasmina poured her a glass of mint tea while chatting about her trip, the local customs, and the grandeur of the wedding she'd attended.
But soon, her gaze grew more serious.
She set the teapot aside and leaned closer to Nahia.
— I know about the wedding, she said in a lowered voice.
Assad and Zeyneb...
It's not just an alliance—it's a political move.
But I swear to you, Nahia, I'll do everything I can to stop this union.
Nahia looked up, surprised.
— No, Yasmina. Don't do that. You can't.
— Why not?
Do you think he's the only one this marriage will destroy?
And Zeyneb? She deserves a man who truly loves her—not someone thinking of another woman in secret.
And you... Do you think I don't see what this is doing to you?
You're fading, Nahia.
Nahia looked away, fists clenched.
— It's not my place.
And it's not your battle, Yasmina.
I don't want to be the cause of a scandal.
Or break an engagement. That would be... wrong.
Yasmina placed her hand over hers.
— You're not breaking anything, Nahia.
You're at the heart of this story, whether you like it or not.
And this marriage—it'll ruin more than it will unite.
— But if you ask me to stay out of it... then I will.
Just promise me one thing: don't give up.
Nahia looked at her for a long time, then lowered her eyes, voice barely audible:
— I can't promise anything.
I just want peace.
For Amaya... and for me.
As Nahia was about to leave the room, Yasmina murmured softly, almost to herself:
> "You'll see, Nahia...
Sometimes, love doesn't ask for permission."