Chapter 4
Maya sighed contently as she walked through the door of her house, taking off her purple veil in the process which matched her dark and light purple dress. She loved this dress as it had been made by her grandmother personally, before she died. The stitching was a silvery one, and there was no one else who could say they had the same dress. That is why she loved it and that is why she got many compliments on it. It looked good on her. Aisha had convinced her it brought out her eye color and it only made her wear the dress more often.
She brushed her fingers through her long hair that she had decided to hang lose today, as the sun was not beaming down as hard as it always did. She stopped in her tracks momentarily as she saw the familiar figure sitting on the table, freshly washed, his hair moist and chewing away on a piece of dried meat; goat meat, probably. He looked up at the sight of Maya and smiled, bowing his head lightly in respect. "What are you doing out of bed?"she asked him, noticing the clean clothes he was wearing that actually belonged to her father.
Her father, Sayyid, had actually grown fond of the company from another man. Sayyid had found he could speak with him about his work, about what has troubled his mind. He found that Altaïr was wise, especially for his age and he had given him great advice at some parts. He had told Maya that Altaïr was send by Allah to give him some manly voices in this house. Maya had actually enjoyed that her father had liked Altaïr's company. And Adira had often left her room when taking care of his wound, giggling, which found Maya odd. She had asked her mother why she would do such a thing and her mother said Altaïr knew exactly the right words to say to a woman.
Maya had found the chance in Altaïr very nice. He spoke more and she found he knew a lot. He had been all over the world it seemed and he had been able to answer a lot of her questions. She envied him yet he had told her she shouldn't. But for some reason she never asked why; it was an invisible boundary she allowed him to have
"Adira allowed me to. I have no sleep this afternoon, it seems I am healing" Maya smiled at him placing the straw basket on the plank that her mother used to cook on. "That is good to hear" he nodded his head in response and kept nibbling on the piece of meat he so desperately had craved for before.
It was hard to admit for Altaïr, but he was a different man here. He let go of his worries here; it had only taken Maya a few days to pry him loose from his secluded place and it seemed as if he was normal here. And he rather enjoyed it. He was in no rush to return to Malik even though he probably should. He wondered if the brotherhood thought he was dead or captured. Yet the thought made him not worry; strange enough. His whole life had been dedicated to serving Al Mualim and Masyaf yet here, no one knew of his profession, no one knew how he took life for the peace of others. Would they understand would he tell them? Probably not.
"Would you like a tomato?" Maya suddenly asked him, turning around to face the man who had previously been deep in thought. He smiled and took it from her; his appetite never ending. He had promised Sayyid to pay back his kindness but he had refused for such silly things.
He took a bite of the tomato and stared across the table towards her as she sat down on one of the large red cushions herself, her legs crossed. A small frown formed between her eyes on her fair skin, and Altaïr wondered what was bothering her; but he rarely questioned. She would always say 'nothing,' and she would always try to fool him but he kept his lips together and smiled friendly at her before finishing off his tomato.
A silence fell over them, but it was not uncomfortable and Maya enjoyed bathing in it. There weren't many people that she could just sit with in silence. They usually broke it and nagged her; and even though she didn't enjoy being alone, not even at these moments, where her thoughts were running through her head in endless circles, she was always forced to spent time alone because they would nag her.

The thing was that Badir, a charming merchant, had tried to kiss her previously and she had not allowed him, quickly walking away from the scene. He was a nice man; attractive man, no doubt. But he had been to forward as he had wanted to kiss her. It just didn't seem right. Even though he flattered her with kind words. He was nice, and kind and always flirtatious when she went to buy vegetables from him. She always enjoyed receiving his attention, getting compliments thrown at her like that would make any woman blush.
He had been married once, to a wonderful woman, not much older than Maya was now. But she died because of a fever. Perhaps an illness the doctor was unable to find. She remembered praying for her. And burying her. She had no idea he carried feelings for her.
They had spent hours talking at night, he would visit her parents but usually they ended up together, drinking and just talking. At first they had many conversations about his wife, but later the subjects changed to more personal things. And she had enjoyed being friends with him. But he actually thought more of it as he had shown just an hour back.
Maya was 20 now, and it was about time she would get married.
She should actually be grateful that someone wanted to marry her in spite of her age. He respected her, like the man her father wanted her to find. Yet something made her pull back from the situation. Perhaps she should give him a chance? Perhaps she should marry him? It would take a load of worry off of her mother and father's shoulders.
And she loved Badir, did she not? He was sweet, kind and loved her. What else did she want? He was 30 years, but yet young spirited and he would give her a free hand like her father did for her mother.
"What is troubling your mind dear?" Adira asked as she had entered the same area and Maya snapped out of her thought looking up at her mother. Altaïr looked at her from across the table expectantly but he didn't leave; he was as curious as her mother was.
Maya sighed and looked up at the trustworthy eyes of her mother but quickly averted her gaze before she would see her soul; her mother had a thing for that. She could reach deep into your soul. "Nothing, mother" she assured the both of them standing up from the table "I got the groceries. I stored them away for you. Is there anything else you wish from me?" she asked her mother and Adira shook her head. Maya bowed her head politely at her mother leaving the room after she had done the same for Altaïr, disappearing up the stairs.
She had been wanting to spent time drawing, her father had bought her a new book, a large one with empty pages for her to fill. She had had filled many of those, and she had grown skilled. Portraits, were her favorites, even though they took a lot of time to draw. She had a perfect memory and she would draw small moments. A sincere smile from Malik for example had once been inspiration to her. A horse being willingly let by a very small girl.
Today she stared at the blank page in front of her though, coal in her hand, her sleeves rolled up to prevent stains on her favorite dress. But her inspiration was none as only she remembered how Badir had tried to press his lips against her own. Had she hurt his feelings by leaving like that? Had she been selfish? She hated hurting people, she never wanted to so. It often resulted in her doing something she rather not.
Suddenly her coal touched the page, circling around and shadowing; her whole mind away from the earth as she drew Badir and the way he had looked at her after she had pushed him away.