Qasim began walking toward Princess Maryam, his steps steady, yet cautious, as though weighing each movement in the silence between them. The desert wind whispered softly around them, rustling the edge of the princess's cloak as she stood still, her gaze fixed ahead—firm, unyielding. There was exhaustion in her posture, yes, but also pride—royal, unwavering pride.
As he reached her, Qasim lowered his voice slightly, speaking with calm persuasion.
"Princess," he said gently, "let us move a bit further. There's a place nearby—we can stop there. You can rest as well. We saw that place while coming toward Kabul. We just need to walk a little more, and we'll reach it."
Princess Maryam turned to him slowly, her face sharp with a look that needed no translation. Her voice cut through the air, laced with irritation and warning.
"I will not travel any further," she declared, every syllable biting. "And if you're using that place as an excuse to make me walk more—then know this: there will be no one worse than me for you. I do not tolerate any talk when I'm hungry. Hehehe."
Qasim, hiding a smile beneath his mask, looked directly into her eyes—calm, yet knowing. His tone held a soft amusement, but also a kind of understanding that seemed to melt her resistance.
"I understand," he said, nodding slightly. "Very clearly, I understand what you're trying to say. So… shall we go now?"
The princess gave a short nod, her expression unreadable, and they started moving forward, side by side in silence.
Meanwhile, not far behind, Hashim was standing quietly, scribbling something onto a page, deep in his own thoughts. The others remained still, waiting.
After a short while, Qasim returned. He approached the masked man and said, "I told her to travel a little more. She's agreed. But yes, we'll need to find a nearby place to stop for a while."
The masked man gave a nod of approval. "Good. Now go back to Hashim."
He placed a hand gently on Qasim's shoulder as he spoke, a silent gesture of trust.
Without a word, Qasim turned and walked toward Hashim.
Qasim comes to Hashim and says with concern,
"Why are you standing here so silently? Is everything alright? Are you tired too… or is there something else?"
Hashim avoids answering directly. His tone slightly irritated, he says,
"Once the princess is done with her tantrums, then we'll move forward, right? Time is being wasted… and we're getting tired too. If she keeps behaving like this, then the journey we did in two days will take five days… or maybe even more—who knows."
He pauses for a moment, his expression shifting into thought. Then he turns to Qasim and says seriously,
"You know what I mean."
Qasim looks at him with understanding. His voice calm but firm.
"I know you're tired, and yes, I know you're a little scared too… but trust me. You are a brave soldier. So stop being afraid, alright?"
He gives Hashim a soft, reassuring smile. Hashim gives a faint laugh, a subtle grin appearing on his lips, and with that same smile, he replies,
"Okay."
The two begin to move forward again. But then, suddenly, the page Hashim had written something on earlier falls from his bag. Just a while ago, he had written something on it and stuffed it into his bag—but forgot to close it properly. The bag was full of other stuff too, and that page had been right at the top. A gust of wind knocks it loose, and it flutters down right in front of Qasim.
Just as Qasim was about to take his next step, the page lands before him. He freezes. Confused… and slightly panicked.
He quickly bends down, picks it up, and puts it into his own bag. For a moment, he panics—thinking it's the mission page, the one he himself had placed in his bag earlier. He believes it has accidentally fallen out.
Visibly hesitant, Qasim turns to Hashim and says with a forced calm,
"Listen… you go ahead. I want to walk alone for a bit. It gives me peace. If you don't mind… could you give me a little time alone?"
Hashim, half-smiling, replies lightly,
"Of course, brother. You can come on your own. But if you need anything, call me."
And with that, he rides his horse faster and goes ahead.
Now, Qasim rides alone. The trail quiet, his horse steady beneath him. He pulls out the page—the one he thought was his. Seeing it with his own eyes brings him relief… but a new confusion starts rising inside.
Then which page was the other one? he thinks.
Still riding, he slowly tries to pull the second page out from his bag. He struggles a bit but manages to get it out. When he finally opens and reads it—what he finds is beyond anything he could have imagined.
It's a letter.
Princess POV
She's thinking…
"How much further do we still have to go? My stomach is growling with hunger. If they've fooled me using that place as an excuse—I'll show them that I'm the daughter of King Khalid ibn Amir… not someone weak."
She's still lost in her thoughts when—
The masked man says,
"There it is. That's the place. We'll stop there."
The princess feels relief.
Qasim also rides up, catching up with the others. They all finally stop at the location. They tie the horses in one place and sit down to eat on the bare ground. The place has nothing in it—only space to rest, nothing more. No comforts, no luxuries.
The princess frowns slightly and says,
"So I'm going to eat this kind of food?"
Everyone gets worried. Maybe the princess is angry…?
But then—surprisingly—she smiles. Her face lights up.
"I've never been outside Kabul before. Ever since I came here, I've always lived inside the palace. I love doing things like this. I've lived my whole life in the royal court, but I always wanted to do something better than just palace life…
something real."
She happily sits down to eat.
.
.
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Written by
Sabir Ali
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