![]() ![]() He's a man, tall, hood pulled over his head to cover his face, and the cloak concealing his form. The blood in her veins rushes through her body at the latter thought, alarming her. Her heart thuds and she gives it a moment to process what is happening, unsure if it's a passerby or a thief trying to break into the house. She turns around the corner and halts in her track upon seeing a cloaked figure looming over the window of her house, peeping inside. It's time for everyone to return to their homes- the streets are quiet and the people faded. Noura pulls her stole over her head and quickens her pace. Sounds from the bazaars and children playing in the streets become only a dull echo as she nears her house. The dying sun rays allow the darkness to start enveloping everything into it. The thought troubles her but her but feelings stay rather defiant and reckless, just how one is in love. ![]() Eskander might permit any other to rest in his heart but not her. Such irony, she wonders, how of all the men her heart could have submitted to, it is the man who might be surrounded day and night by women at the palace besides her. ![]()
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