It was time to see off the body before the Governor was taken away to be buried.
The body.
Her father often used to talk about once someone dies, the become a "was".
Yesterday they were a person, today they were a mayit.
She had never imagined that these words would apply to her father one day. Zukhruf inhaled a shaky breath as she stood up and almost fell back down as the world spun around her. Barely maintaining her balance, she touched her mother's shoulders before Deena and Sania hurried forward to help Saiqah Begum up.
Slowly, they made their way out to the courtyard. Famina trotted behind them, patting her eyes dry every few seconds.
It was Asar time. The sky was a dusty shade of brown and grey. Whether it was too cold thatdqy or whether it was just her, Zukhruf couldn't tell. All she knew was that she was very, very cold.
In the courtyard, under the canopy atop a white marble slab was a coffin which wasn't fully covered. It was black with golden embroidery and had five corners narrowing towards the end.
The mother and daughter paused as they caught sight of it. For a moment, neither moved. Saiqah Begum's eyes widened as she stared at the black coffin. Then, Sania and Deena nudged her forward. Zukhruf obliged as well, dragging hef body forward. A moment later they stood perpendicular to the coffin.
Inside lay the governor in a white shroud. His skin was pale and his lips were colorless, yet he still looked peaceful, as if the Lord had treated him well in the afterlife.
Zukhruf inched forward before her hand instinctively reached out to touch his face. It was cold.
And then, every single memory flashed through her eyes like hot coal.
How she would run up to him when he came home: first as a toddler, then as a kid, then as a teenager, and how at every stage he would fill her up in his warm embrace.
How he would sneak in her her favorite food when Saiqah Begum would send her to her room for not eating what was prepared that day and they would eat it together like mischievous teenagers.
How as a child, she would see the moons of Shawwal and Dhul Hijjah sitting on his shoulders.
How he would beam with pride every time she would stitch a new turban for him and present it to him.
How they would have long conversations about stuff that would bore everyone else in the house.
And how he had filled her life with warm hugs, with kisses to cheeks and forehead, with small gestures that only she knew mattered, with showing up every time she needed him, with understanding the state of her heart without her ever needing to say anything.
She stepped nearer to the coffin, caressing his face in bith her hands before bowing down to plant a kiss on his forehead.
And then, before she knew it, she dropped to her knees and began weeping. Her forehead pressed against the coffin as she cried bitterly. "Baba..." She croaked, her body shaking uncontrollably.
Seeing her, Saiqah Begum too cracked and began to weep, dropping her head and shaking it.
The attendees looked at the two with a mix of pity and sorrow. The Governor's standing was one of such righteousness that even the men, high ranking officials, some being his rivals and battle worn soldiers had been brought to tears.
Famina hugged herself, lowering her face to hide it. Shakeel looked away, taking in a deep breath. Raheel, with damp eyes, cued for Sania to pull Zukhruf away. She complied, stepping forward and helping her up by the shoulders before pulling her away.
Siezing the opportunity, the men moved forward to clise the coffin before lifting it and walking away.
Zukhruf nearly fell onto her mother who stood beside her and the two held onto each other for dear life, the only thing preventing the other from collapsing.
Zarnab felt like her lungs would explode. She couldn't breathe. Her throat hurt. Her world had truly ended that day.
If there was hell, she was in it.
It had been a day since the funeral. Her room was almost completely dark except for the late afternoon orange sky outside peeking through her windows.
She was too weak after all the weeping yesterday and could no longer sit amongst others. Thus, she had retreated to her room after the funeral and hadn't left since. She knew she should be with her mother, but her body couldn't move.
She had collapsed on the bed the moment she had stepped in and hadn't even removed her veil.
She had stared at the ceiling all night and despite all the hours that had passed, tears continued to trickle down her temples and into her hair. She felt like she had died.
She couldn't function. She couldn't eat. She couldn't sleep. Her stomach hurt.
There was the sound of the doors to her room clicking open accompanied by soft footsteps. Since yesterday, multiple people had came to her room insisting that she eat. She would reply that she will eat in a while every time, of course she never did.
"Princess," a voice spoke. Zukhruf turned her head to see a maid standing before her bed. She curtsied.
"What is it?" Zukhruf spoke slowly, her voice hoarse.
"Your brothers have called for you," she replied.
Normally Zukhruf would have frowned, but she felt too weak to do even that. "What for?" She inquired weakly, assuming it was probably for the prayers.
"Princess, the Emperor is here."