Prince of Knights (An Arabic Love Story)✓

Prince of Knights Chp29

Salam alikum guys! Well I have REALLY good news. I finally found my FARIS after 3 years of searching. Check out the video I shared. He is exactly like the Faris I imagine. Follow Queens_realm to see more of his pictures and find out who he is. 

Let me know what you guys think of him? 

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~*For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one~* Khalil Gibran 

Raghad clenched her hand then bit her lip as her own blood seeped through her fingers and mingled with the blood of the snake. She felt bile rose in her parched throat as the rusty smell of scarlet water reached her senses. Her gaze followed Faris as he bent low and smashed two stones together to generate sparks and within few more tries a warm glow began to surround him. She shook her head against the pain and made her way to her spouse. Raghad yearned for this hapless journey to come to an end. Since its inception, she has encountered unwanted situations and she was drowsy.

"Sit." The man ordered and she hoisted her brow but followed his command not at all rapt in another encounter. Raghad crossed her feet then placed her right hand in her lap and concealed it with her left hand and outspread her shawl over her hands. A fellow member of the wind whimpered as it witnessed her torture. It tiptoed up to the bride and caressed her cheeks twirling her shawl. "Hand me the sack." He spoke again this time those pitch-black eyes scrutinizing her movements in amusement.

Raghad sucked in a breath. How was she to work when her hand wailed in absolute anguish? She grit her teeth unwilling to disclose her infirmity to her foe and gradually moved her left hand to grab the pouch and hand it to him, aware how those inky eyes stared at her.

Faris took the pouch from her hand and then simpered. "You are a very foolish girl." He taunted opening the pouch and took out dates for both of them.

"Pardon me?"

The man looked up then shifted his gaze to her hands in her lap. Raghad knew what he indicated. With a sigh, she uncurtained her left hand from her shawl and brought it in front of her in between them.

He shook his head at her, his hair that fell on his broad shoulders brushed against his kandora. "The other hand, bint-ash-sheikh."

Raghad looked away not willing to reveal her wounds to this man. She gritted her teeth then slowly, but heedfully, revealed her wounded hand. A gasp escaped her lips at the sight of her palm. She stared at the piece of a sharp wood that stuck in her palm permitting blood to ooze from the gash.

Her heart commenced rattling like dry bushes as she moved her quivering hand to the knight. She eyed the gore and dirt which decorated her palm just half an inch away from the wound. Another gasp hissed past her clenched teeth as the man took hold of her hand. His hand was much larger than hers, much rougher. She watched in awe as he surveyed her gash not paying attention to the blood that coated his skin. Raghad bit the inside of her cheek when his thumb brushed the back of her wounded hand not knowing what to commit, where to hide.

"The wound is more unpleasant than I pondered. You must have had a grave level of rage in you to have caused such a wound." Faris shook his head again. He rotated his upper body then grabbed the water bag. The man uncapped the bag meanwhile her hand in his, soaking in her crimson blood.

Raghad's lip wobbled as he brought the bag close to her palm. Ya Allah! She clapped her teeth on her bottom lip as her spouse started to pour water on her hand. Fire, a lethal flame screeched from her cut as cool water touched it. Raghad thrust her left hand in the sand, curled her fingers and sat straighter to prevent herself from screaming. Her eyes watered but she blinked them away adamant on not showing her frailty.