Prince of Knights (An Arabic Love Story)✓

Prince of Knights Chp21

Salam Alikum, Eid Mubarak guys!!! Hope you guys like this chapter.

_______________________________________________

~*What you seek is seeking you*~ Rumi

"Bismillah! Ya Shouq what is the matter?" Raghad ascended the stairs and watched as Shouq sat by a cot in the small courtyard upstairs, with her palm pressed against her forehead. 

"Wallahi Raghad, I do not know. My head aches and I have a sore throat." she dropped her shawl on her shoulders and sighed.

Raghad frowned at her words then removed Shouq's hand and placed her palm against her forehead then hissed. "Allahu Akbar, you have caught a terrible fever. You are burning."

Shouq groaned. "Ya Rab. I have so much to do and my body will not permit me to move."

"Ya bint al halal, you must rest."

"Then what about the repast?"

"Do not fret, I wil cook what is required. You must rest. I will, Insha'Allah send some honey for your throat."

Raghad aided Shouq on the cot then desended the stairs. To prepare dinner in her husband's house, the very first time, alone, without Shouq's assistance seemed rather arduous. Indeed they were people she never desired to cook for, however, she did not posses another alternative. Raghad tightened the scarf around her head and entered the cookery, her eyes took in the ingredients she needed to handle.

"Oh Lord! It is merely a dinner, I can manage it with no bother." She huffed, rolled her seelves twice and commenced with the cooking. Half an hour tip toed around her, it glanced in the wok, grinned then sedated. The bride provided her best, but she could not comprehend why it held such significance that her cooking was palatable? Why did it mattered that her cooking should satisfy that savage of a man?

"Salam alikum," greeted a familiar voice.

The bride lifted her head from the rice she rinsed. Fahd ventered in the cookery with a bright smile. He looked at Raghad then at the chimey and nodded. Fahd was abundantly dissimilar from his siblings, Faris was someone she could not look at for more than mere moments, and everytime she glanced at him, her blood simmered. Nasser looted every ounce of audacity in her. Whereas, this young boy, he reminded her of Badr. Her tranquil, dearest brother. 

"Wa alikum as salam,"

"Oho! Raghad is preparing our repast today, Masha'Allah. Masha'Allah!" Fahd raised both his eyebrows at her and she beamed.

"Shouq is unwell and I could not allow her to cook," at this his brows frowned.

"What has happened?"

"Your sister has a cold, nothing to distress yourself about."

He chortled. "Shouq has a fever in every season."

"Haraam alaik ya Fahd. You must pray she gets well soon."

Fahd placed his hand on the mud shelve nearby. "Where is my beloved sister?"

"In her chamber, deep in slumber." Raghad responded and tilted the crock in the small caludren to pour the rice.

"Where on earth is Batool then?"

"By her absence I shall state that Faris is present?" Raghad glanced at him.

Fahd chuckled. "She does not struggle with work when her precious brother is here. Wallahi, Faris coddles Batool unconditonally."