Some time after the fighting began, a letter was sent to the King of Yahod.
"Great King of Yahod, because of the war between our two states, innocent people are suffering. Let us put an end to this conflict and conclude a truce. At present, you are no more capable of continuing this war than we are. This battle brings no benefit to either of us."
Naturally, the King of Yahod did not accept the proposal at once. Amira, unwilling to see her people suffer any longer and aware that food supplies and soldiers were rapidly dwindling, desperately wished for the war to end.
What should I do? she thought. What path must I take to achieve peace? What does the King of Yahod truly want? We no longer have the strength to continue fighting. I need time—time to drive them out. I must buy time.
Lost in these thoughts, Amira failed to notice her children, Yoqut and Feruza, enter the room. Lately, she had scarcely been able to spare them any time at all.
"Mother? Mother?"
"Oh—yes, Feruza, my beautiful daughter. Why are you here? Come closer… You too, Yoqut. What is it? Is everything alright?"
"Um… Mother, will there be another war soon?"
"Who told you that, Yoqut?"
"Uncle Vard did. He said there would be another war and that you would die in it. Mother, why did Uncle say you would die? I don't want you to die."
The children rushed forward and clung to her. Amira wrapped them tightly in her arms.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "Your uncle was only joking. I will not leave you."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes, I promise. Now go back to your room and sleep."
After escorting her children to their chamber, Amira returned to her duties. Yet her thoughts would not leave her.
Why would Vard say such things to children? I know he dislikes me, but… to say this to his own nieces and nephews? If he were not Umar's brother, I would have expelled him immediately. But now… there is no time for this.
Determined to secure peace with Yahod, Amira searched for new approaches. Without considering her own safety, she left the palace and began negotiations among the people themselves. She spoke not only with envoys of other states, but also with ordinary citizens, sitting on a throne placed outside the palace where the public passed freely.
Will this help me gain Yahod's trust? Will they see that I bear no hostility toward them? O Allah, help me. Do not let me stray from the right path. I do not want my innocent people to suffer.
With such thoughts, Amira concluded her negotiations and returned to the palace, dividing her time between her children and the affairs of state, handling matters personally. She sacrificed much of her rest and motherhood for the sake of her people.
Through Amira's tireless efforts and prayers, the state of Kusuful Shams enjoyed peace for several years. The people deeply respected her, obeyed her decisions, and regarded her as the wisest of queens. They were profoundly grateful to her for bringing them peace.
Yet all of her years of struggle were destroyed by Umar's brother, Vard, who defected to Yahod and betrayed his own people.
You will answer for taking my place, Amira. Taking what belongs to another will not go unpunished!
Driven by these thoughts, he revealed to Yahod the locations where weapons and military supplies were being gathered—and destroyed the armory. His reason was simple: he wanted to rule the state himself. Because of this treachery, Yahod forces invaded Kusuful Shams.
When Amira learned of Vard's betrayal and he was brought before her, she asked:
"Why, Vard? Why did you betray us?"
"You… you are to blame for everything," he shouted. "All these problems happened because of you. If you had not existed, if you had not supported Umar, I would have taken the throne. None of this would have happened. After Umar's death, you should have given the crown to me! This is all your fault!"
"It is true," Amira replied coldly, "that after your brother, you could have ascended the throne. But I would never have entrusted my people to a fool like you."
She turned to the guards.
"Throw him into the dungeon. After the war ends, judgment will be passed. Until then, he will remain imprisoned."
The guards took Vard away to the dungeon. Alone, Amira was left with her thoughts.
Perhaps Vard is right… would it have been better if he had claimed the throne? No. This is not the time to think such thoughts. Focus, Amira. You are the Queen of this realm. You are responsible for every soul in this land.
No matter how hard she tried, Amira could not halt the war. Peace offerings to the Yahods, promises of wealth, and priceless gifts—nothing worked. At last, she accepted that battle was the only remaining option, and her people supported her decision without question, for they trusted her completely.
Yet in this world, trust alone cannot secure a life of peace. The war was tipping in Yahod's favor, for supplies were running low and weapons scarce.
Lately, Amira began seeing Umar in her dreams. As always, he looked at her with warmth and kindness, offering her a rose. But this time, it was not red—it was pure white.
She took the rose, and Umar led her into a garden covered entirely in white roses. The moment she stepped into the garden, the roses blushed crimson, and Umar vanished.
Amira searched for meaning in these visions, and in the end, she understood. Death was near, and soon, it would claim her.