Ruqayyah struggled to understand. Why would he save me? Her mind raced, unease twisting through her. The system responded sharply:
[Ding! Warning, Host. Unable to determine Prince Al-Mu'tasim's intent. Exercise caution. Potential hidden motives detected. Risk present. Recommended: retreat immediately.]
She froze. Her breath caught in her throat. Her legs trembled, and she tried to pull her hand free from his grip.
Al-Mu'tasim turned sharply. His eyes widened, brow furrowing, a flash of restrained anger crossing his face. "What are you doing?" His voice was low, measured.
Before he could respond further, Ruqayyah's words came, sharp and bitter, almost defiant. "Then kill me here," she said, coldly. "No need to pretend you're helping only to trap me later."
Al-Mu'tasim paused, staring at her as though he were seeing her for the first time—not as a captive, not as a pawn, but as someone daring to confront him amidst chaos. Surprise flickered, quickly followed by annoyance. His jaw tightened. "Do you think I am toying with you?" he asked quietly, firmly.
Only a hand's width separated them. The flickering torchlight cast shadows along the narrow alley walls, the distant shouts of the rebels fading into the night, yet here, the tension was enough to turn a single word into an event.
Ruqayyah squared her shoulders. Her pulse raced, but she did not step back. If this was a trap, she would face it with her head held high.
"Very well. I release you," Al-Mu'tasim said, loosening his hold and stepping back.
Ruqayyah froze for a moment, startled by the sudden distance. Her breath came fast, uneven. The shouts of rebels grew nearer, their footsteps echoing off the narrow walls. The thought of the long path to Layla's home hit her. Panic seeped into every part of her, and rain plastered her hair and clothes. Al-Mu'tasim disappeared into the storm, weaving through shadows and the chaos. A flash of lightning split the night, and for a heartbeat, her world seemed to stop.
She sobbed freely, overwhelmed by fear, frustration, and despair. She knew she had to move, but her body refused to obey. Only the relentless downpour and the rolling thunder accompanied her helpless cries, while the road to safety stretched far beyond her reach.
Memories of a lonely, difficult childhood rose unbidden. She had grown up mistrustful, surrounded by false friends and betrayal. Her life had been a series of disappointments and manipulations. Hatred for deceit and treachery ran deep. Her sobs were ragged, punctuated by sharp, uneven breaths.
Unseen, Al-Mu'tasim lingered in the shadows, watching from a distance. He wanted to see where she would go, what she would do alone.
The system cut through the fog of her fear:
[Host. This is not the time for tears. Immediate danger persists. Move now. Run.]
Ruqayyah wiped her face roughly. "Why?" she murmured. Hesitation clung to her voice. "Is… there a cliff nearby?"
The system replied firmly:
[Do not consider that. Focus on survival. There is no nearby cliff. The immediate threat is the rebels. Priority: escape.]
She clenched her fists. "I'm serious. I just want to know."
[Host, this is not productive. There is a narrow path to the right, twenty steps from your position. Use it—now.]
The shouts of the rebels drew closer. There was no time to hesitate.
Suddenly, her body gave out. She collapsed to the ground, unable to continue, and lost consciousness.
Al-Mu'tasim reached her quickly, skimming over puddles and mud, assessing her at once. He checked that she wasn't injured beyond immediate danger, adjusting her position to keep her from harm. With care, he lifted her, moving swiftly through a side alley toward a safer place. After a short walk, he found a small, secluded house, its door ajar. There, he laid her down on a dry floor and covered her with clean cloths, while a servant he summoned quietly set aside simple clothing and food.
Ruqayyah remained unconscious.
Al-Mu'tasim stood by the doorway, watching her, hand clenched. The servant approached cautiously, carrying supplies. "Sayyidi… why save the daughter of one we despise?" he asked softly.
Al-Mu'tasim's gaze flicked to Ruqayyah before he answered, his tone sharp and controlled. "Foolish," he said. "If the wazir's daughter dies in the chaos, do you think he will remain silent?"
The servant hesitated.
"He will accuse the palace. Demand vengeance. Then it is no longer a rebellion—it is war." His eyes were hard. "I do not save her out of mercy. I save her because her death would be more dangerous than her life."
The servant bowed deeper. "Understood, Sayyidi."
"Ensure no one knows she is here," Al-Mu'tasim instructed. "Do not allow anyone in without my permission."
After the servant departed, the room fell silent again. Al-Mu'tasim lingered briefly, then stepped back, keeping a careful watch. Ruqayyah had no idea that her life that night was preserved not by kindness, but by the cold calculation of a prince.
Several hours had passed. The world outside had shifted with the rain, but inside the small room, time seemed to have slowed.
Ruqayyah woke slowly. Her body ached, her muscles stiff. The rain outside still drummed against the roof, but inside the small room, silence reigned. Only a few items of clothing and simple food sat beside her.
Panic rose again. She drew a shuddering breath, eyes darting across the unfamiliar room. The system's voice broke the quiet, firm and measured:
[Host. The location is safe for now. Prioritize recovery.]
Ruqayyah swallowed, heartbeat still fast. She hesitated, then whispered, "Is… Paman Al-Hasan's house far?"
[I am sorry, Host. This is bad news.]
She swallowed again, voice trembling. "Bad news? What news?"
[After the rebellion, the family of Al-Hasan ibn Sahl moved quickly to Wasit. There is currently no fast route to reach them.]
Ruqayyah froze, rigid with disbelief. Her mouth barely moved as her sobs broke out, shaking her. "So… I'm truly trapped," she whispered, defeated.
[Calm, Host. You are safe here for now. Focus on healing. Immediate dangers in this area have been neutralized.]
She closed her eyes, tears still flowing. Completely isolated, far from family and help, she realized that for the moment, she could rely on only herself… and the system.
Her thoughts flashed to Salma.
"And… what of mother?" she murmured, voice almost choked.
[After the rebellion, the family of Al-Hasan ibn Sahl found Salma safely. Unfortunately, they could not locate you, Host.]
Ruqayyah frowned, panic tightening her chest. "How long was I unconscious?"
[Two days. Likely due to first-time use of your concealment ability combined with the anti-misfortune function.]
She drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Two days of uncertainty, fear, and darkness. And now, she finally understood—the world outside was far from safe, and every step ahead would demand caution.