One Long Night by the Niafi [M]

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She was used to such extravagance... but Faraji's family always seemed a step above the rest. Granted, a lot of her family's wealth was shared between houses in both Essryn and Serendipity.

She stared around the place, scrutinizing before looking towards Faraji.

"I suppose it looks acceptable enough for my safety." But though her tone seemed critical, there was a playfully small smile upon her lips.

"Your family has always done well, Faraji," she then added with a sigh. She was so tired and the attempt at her life hardly helped. 

[Goldie]

Faraji didn't even flinch at her supposed critical eye at her current lodgings. He was from this world, it made sense to him that she would be critical especially considering the life and death nature of their current situation.

He could also sense her exhaustion and leaned over to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead, "Rest. The rope by your bed will call the servants. Guards are at the door. That one," he pointed to their right, "will bring you directly to my quarters. You are welcome, when you want."

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Sighing, she turned to him, giving him a curt nod before he'd find himself in an embrace.  She held him tightly, saying nothing as she gave him a tight squeeze , then pulled away.

Would they ever have a moment of peace?

"I should rest," she went on. "But to be honest I'm not sure I'll be able to."

There was far too much on her mind, on her plate- and now- with this attempt at her life- only added another layer.

"Are there like.. taxes or documents of yours I could check through? Something to distract me?"

[Goldie]

Faraji's insides squirmed as she requested to look at his estates documents, but his face remained passive with a small smile hinting at the corners of his lips. Sharing that kind of information just wasn't done. It didn't matter how trusted a friend or a lover, they weren't married, and she wasn't exactly in a position of trust with him anyways.

No. Hakeshna, no he would not share those kinds of information with anyone unless there was a binding contract in place and years of working up the ranks to earn that spot. That kind of information would be enough to ruin you in the wrong hands.

Was Ibra a spy? Would she take that information and run with it to better the lives of herself and her son? It would certainly be easier for her than marriage.

"Oh, no, do not trouble yourself with such trivial matters. I handle all of that myself. I will send the servants with books that you can select from - a wide variety so you have something to choose."

He smiled warmly, hiding his ever-growing unease and kissed her on her forehead, "Try to rest."

And then he left her through the door to his own living area of his palace.

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Ibra was so stuck inside her own mind she hadn't even considered the taboo of her request. Honestly, those types of paper work kept her engaged enough she typically dissociated as she worked.  And she desperately wanted to dissociate from life. 

So much had happened that it was a lot to swallow down. She could understand why others drank- her own results, however, reminding her of it's vice so she had steered away from asking.

So when she was left to her own devices, she told the servants she needed paper- ink and a quill- and to be sure to bring her lots of it. And soon the writing desk began to fill with countless notes the woman began to furiously scribble down- not even a lick concerned her hands were stained in ink.

[Goldie]

Faraji closed the door behind him, a picture of decorum, until the moment the latch clicked and he leaned back with an exhausted sigh and closed his eyes while taking purposeful breaths in through his nose and out his mouth. So much had happened in the last few days it was hard to keep track of it anymore. He had found Ibra. He was being sued by Saanvi. He had a son. Someone had broken into his home and tried to murder Ibra.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was because he was still angry with her for this secret she had kept from him, he was less concerned for her safety and more concerned that someone had managed to get past all of the guards and into the central areas of the home. What was more concerning was the fact that they had known where she was. Her staying hadn't been pre-planned, it wasn't something that had gone through numerous ears so it could escape random mouths....no....this assassin had known exactly where she would be on limited information...

Someone in the house was to blame. Someone had told someone where she was. Someone had made sure the guards would be busy or knew of some blind spot that was seemingly built into their system.

He just wanted to rest.

Since Ibra had fallen ill, he had only gotten a few fitful bits of sleep here and there. Even his stomach was rumbling loudly in protest to how he'd treated his body.

But he couldn't sleep.

Instead, he sat at his desk, put his ledgers aside, and began calling servants in one at a time to question them. After the first interview his father had joined him and together they asked the same questions over and over. They shared glances, wrote notes, and began putting together the intricate puzzle to determine where their house had failed so terribly.

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She wouldn't be able to sleep after the events of the day. To think.. she'd be reunited with Faraji, only for their reunion to be curdled by his mother.

No..

No that wasn't fair. She was as much to blame for this. By with holding the knowledge about his son....
She raked a hand through her hair, completely exasperated before she gave up completely over her notes and thoughts and moved to leave her room. 

She felt suffocated, and impotent- wishing she could go back in time to fix her mistakes - to warn her past self not to fall prey to her emotions. But it was too little too late- and as she strolled down the hall- servants and guards immediately began to form in lines around her. 

That only serves to further grate on her irritation as she tried to shoo them off, but was ignored. They atleast offered her some distance when she almost struck a servant with her over animated flailing arms. But even that small victory left her utterly exhausted and she wasn't even sure she made the right choice in this matter-


What had she been thinking? Why was she making so many damned mistakes? She felt like she was breaking all over again and eventually turned tail and stalked back towards her room- by now- there being quite there large, and now noisy, entourage in tow.

[Goldie]

Faraji was exhausted. He had barely slept the night before and despite having time earlier that morning to wash, he didn't feel rested. His mind was moving quickly while his limbs felt like rocks had been tied to them and were dragging him down to the floor; holding him in place. More than once his father urged him to postpone the interrogations and rest, but Faraji refused. The people who had infiltrated their house wouldn't rest.

And it wasn't like this was entirely about Ibra, though it certainly played a large part, this was about his home. This was about his own sense of safety and the safety of those who lived and worked here. If one member of the household was compromised to this degree that meant no one was safe.

He ran his hand across his face and stared at the pages and pages of names and testimony.

"We need to see her again." His father pointed to the name of one of the housemaids. She was young, maybe Saanvi's age, and her husband had been killed not long ago leaving her with a toddler and another child on the way. She had been working for them for just over a year and was one of the newer hires on the premises. Most of the time people saw her red-eyed and crying, but she was a good worker.

Yet...today she had been almost stony. And her hands had been shaking. Not to mention others had noticed her hovering around passages that were outside the scope of her position. Faraji did not think she was evil but....her situation made her a perfect candidate for blackmail.

Faraji nodded and was about to speak when his manservant entered, bowed, and whispered in his ear.

Ibra was out.

"Father, excuse me." Her tipped his head respectfully towards his father and then stood from the table.

"Rest, Faraji." His father urged again, but his son just waived him off absently as he crossed the room towards the hallway. Even from inside he could hear the bustle of servants and guards outside, along with the rich tones of Ibra's voice.

He opened the door and slipped into the hall, just as Ibra was passing.

He bowed.

"Ibra." He tried to hide the exhaustion in his voice, "Were you able to rest? Can I have anything brought for you?"

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Ibra haulted the moment Faraji appeared.  She couldn't help but bristle at his sudden appearance. She wasn't exactly in a good mood to interact with him- or well... anybody.

So inspite of herself, she sighed loudly and shook her head.

"I've been too anxious for rest- and it seems the entire serving staff feels the same."

It was almost ridiculous. But she couldn't blame them- not for reacting this way after the attempt at her life. But she was too exhausted to feel anything but irritation.

She studied Faraji and frowned.

"Did the servants fetch you?" This was not what she was hoping for- and knew he had better things to occupy his time than chasing her throughout his hallways.

[Goldie]

Faraji was already standing by the time Ibra rolled her eyes and he caught the entire display with only a small sense of defeat. He knew she didn't like any of this. He knew that having her protected was bound to send her into flight like a young sparrow, but he couldn't let her just exist like she wanted to. Not now. Not when her very life hung in the balance.

Maybe she would never marry him. Maybe she would simply introduce him to his son and then walk out of his life. Maybe he would end up marrying Saanvi by choice just to ignore the fact that everything in his life was one giant crumbling wall that was losing its foundation against a raging flood.

"I asked them to." He said quietly, ever the epitome of high bred grace, "Your safety is of utmost importance and I will not see you placed in harms way again under my roof."

He was tired. His eyes were hooded and he could feel his words clipping more than usual, though he had no control over it now.

Now it was his turn to sigh and the mask broke if only for a moment to reveal the deep seated exhaustion that threatened to consume him, "They melted a wall, Ibra."

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She digested those words.

"I suppose I'd do the same," came her barbed reply. 

She was trying to deal with the situation by trying to ignore it. But that was foolish.. she knew it.. but part of her knew she had to find a means not to panic. She was too clever not to have the fear or her son's safety be at the forefront or her mind.

She was kicking herself for not immediately returning with him. But she could never have expected someone would target her...

And of they did and knew what they were doing... they'd know she had a son and..

Inspite of herself, tears prickled within her eyes. She rigidly shifted away from Faraji, not wanting him to see her be so weak. And if they realized what Faraji was to her....

"Can we have a moment alone?" She asked quietly, hoping the servants didn't witness her moment of weakness. She needed to inform him of her fears without alarming the entire house hold. But.. what could they even do about her son now? He was already enroute...
Kia's name.. what was she going to do? And who would possibly be after her life .. and so aggressively?

[Goldie]

Faraji was tired, but decorum dictated that he not show that weakness. Even if they were married he wouldn't want to appear weak before her as it was his place to maintain order and calm lest he be labeled weak. And being weak in this cutthroat world would only invite trouble.

So, instead of backing away and refusing to speak to her about the concerns listed on her face, instead of telling her to go rest so he, in turn, could also rest – he nodded curtly at her request. At a quick tilt of his head, the servants dispersed.

"Come." His words were soft, but it was a demand nonetheless, and he turned to lead her back into his own chambers. Upon seeing them, his father stood and bowed deeply before exiting the room without so much as a word. He understood when words were needed and recognized that this was not the moment for pleasantries.

And then, they were alone.

Faraji motioned for Ibra to take a seat, but did not move to sit himself. Instead, he stood by his desk with its overflowing papers and bits of spilled ink – an unusual sight for someone who prided himself on cleanliness and order.

"I'm listening." He stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for whatever bombshell she was about to drop – fully expecting her to reject him again and leave forever.