Inscribed In The Stars

Chapter 3

Out of habit, Dalia slipped off her amber ring, an heirloom from her mother's side, and brought it up to her veiled mouth, pressing the cool gem on her tinted lips.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought her back to the ground.

"Sahiba, you are drifting off again."

Dalia tore her gaze from the space she was spacing out to and turned to find the Head Librarian glaring her way. He gave her a condescending scoff, as he always did with the other female servants, and stroked the length of his white beard.

"Must I remind you that it was you who insisted I teach the same contents as I do with your brother? Yet, here you are making a folly of my time,"

Dalia imitated his scoff and rolled her eyes exaggeratingly. She slipped on her ring and adjusted her silk face veil.

The Head Librarian, like most of his scholarly friends, did not approve of her plea to the King to grant her the same education as Princes. Women were not raised to be intellectual, rather it was the duty of men to lead the country with their brains. And strength and strategy.

Women had no say in the matter. But Dalia made it a point to prove that her very existence was a protest against these societal norms. It upset many, including the women of the Harem, but that did not matter to her because Dalia had the support of the highest power, the King.

"What pressing matters must you return to my dearest teacher?" she said, leaning forward on her table and crossing her hands under her chin. "I assume you refer to entertaining the volumes of books around us with your romantic lines of poetry?"

The Head Librarian froze. His face began to turn crimson until it reached his ears.

Dalia did not hide the satisfaction in her eyes.

The old man turned away from her, clearing his throat once again. "I do not know what you are referring to," he murmured.

"You shouldn't trust your young scholars to keep their lips sealed. They even transmitted it word for word to me!"

"Sahiba-"

"I am but a prisoner to my heart-"

"Sahiba! Let us take a break here, "

Dalia lept up from her stool in celebration and bidding farewell to her extremely red-faced teacher, she dashed down the library halls, only to come face to face with none other than the scarred prince.

"My apologies, I was looking for the post room," The Prince mumbled, keeping his gaze away from meeting her surprised eyes.

"Didn't I tell you it was this way?" Came a voice behind him, and upon noticing her presence steered his eyes away after one glance.

"Sahiba," he greeted.

"Your bodyguard finally doing his job?" She smirked.

The Prince looked to his shorter companion and she could have sworn they exchanged an expression of amusement.

"This is General Musa, my dearest friend and yes, acting bodyguard."

Dalia's eyes fluttered between the two of them, pushing down a smile that threatened to make the corners of her lips rise. They were like a mirror reflection of each other, not in appearance but in actions. Both had their gazes fixed elsewhere apart from her.

At first, it had felt odd to her, even slightly insulting but why did it feel better than the times when men from other nations or even her own would gaze at her so boldly and most of the times, immodestly?

It made her question how respectfully she had been treated her entire life. And it made her wonder if all men from Balqaas were shy or just respectful.