Written In The Scars

Chapter 3

"Ah, you know how to bake, then? That's impressive," Abbas nodded.

"No...I enjoy eating them,"

Heat rose to his face, and he prayed his embarrassment wouldn't be obviously visible.

"Of course! I do too..." The Prince laughed, trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere.

However, Khidaaf remained silent. To his satisfaction, Thaina stood up and made her way over to them.

"I'm afraid time is of the essence and so I'm afraid we will have to end it here," she stated, and they both let out a sigh.

Khidaaf jumped up from her cushion.

"I shouldn't keep my parents waiting any longer," She stuttered before she scuttled for the exit. Just as she opened the doors, she turned to them again and gave a small bow.

"It was nice to see you, Your Highness, but I don't think we can progress this any further. Thank you again for giving me this chance," She said, before giving him a curt nod and practically running out of the room.

Abbas scoffed, his sister-in-law doing the same.

"That woman!" Thaina huffed, and Abbas stood up.

"Leave her be, I knew from the moment she started gawking at me, it wasn't going to happen. Besides, who would find interest in such a boring person,"

They both exited the tea room and found her parents speaking with hushed voices to the Queen. They offered their apologies before a manservant led them down the winding halls of the Palace for the exit.

"I am guessing things didn't go well,"

Abbas and Thaina turned to see Harun walking over to them.

"Do you know how awkward it was for me to have to listen to them?" Thaina interjected, and the Crown prince broke out chuckling.

Their mother strolled by and hit her laughing son on his back, before turning to her other frowning son and wrapped a comforting arm around his.

"Don't be disheartened my son, Allah has planned for you someone better than her and Inshallah you will meet her someday,"

Abbas could not find comfort in his mother's hope-filled words, yet he prayed she would be right.

"Inshallah,"

***

Thaina Bint Qassim stroked the hem of the dress, her fingers gliding over the meticulous detail of thread, its embroidered bodies clasping the most luxurious gems and pearls. It was simply beautiful, and she applauded the skills of the maker who had sewn her imagination into reality. The royal dressmaker could learn a few skills or two from her personal favourite, and it was because of this she had left the Palace walls.

Shielding her identity with a veil, the Princess had quietly left with the permission of her husband, bringing along her personal handmaiden, Reem, and a guard to escort her to collect her purchase. Normally, she would have sent for her handmaiden to collect things, but when it came to her garments, she insisted on making the journey out herself which also gave her a chance to free herself from her royal duties. Not that she had much to do anyway, being the beloved wife of the Crown Prince of Balqaas.

Her dress had taken her to a large fabric boutique in the heart of the bustling city Souq, where once had a stood a rundown stall, but with Thaina's help, it had transformed into a popular establishment, favoured by the women of the upper class. The head tailor was a widowed senior who used to sew material day and night to earn a living, but now had plenty of young assistants to help her with the bulkier tasks.