I could not decide what was worse… the despondency that I felt, or the fact that my whole family knew of it.

The weight of their helpful smiles and worried glances weighed on me even more heavily than the role I had stepped into when Antares had ascended to sheik. I had heard them argue from a dune away, my slender body well cloaked in the shadows that I had chosen. They had argued over Eness doing what she had to to protect us; over her doing the self-same thing I should have been able to do for us. In their words, I had heard their anger and their pain and their frustration.

I know I am not helping.

I know that my sadness is a burden that they should not be forced to bear on my behalf, and that my continued apathy could soon doom us all. I know that I have no reason to be sad; I am the girl that has it all - a kingdom of our own, a doting husband, a beautiful daughter, a family so wide and so vast and so loving that I would never be without support.

And yet the grief always steals back in in the quiet moments. It wraps around my heart like a vice, reminding me of my failures and in the ways I could never be enough for this place. It forces me to yearn for the claustrophoic home I had once come from, with their rigid rules and sexist ideaologies. I, who was once so fierce and independent, wanted nothing more than to slip into the familiar role of daughter.

But I could not.

There was no returning to Mahgrib or to the simple life I had once maintained. I needed to find my way out of this quagmire, or I would ruin everything that I had held dear. Still, beneath the falling dusk of the evening, I could not help but lift my head to the moon above and plead to Allah that the path would appear before me. I had no idea where to even begin.