Written In The Scars

Chapter 6

Husaam's eyes jolted open to a pitch-black ceiling, the only sound of his heavy breathing biting through the eerie silence. He carefully sat up, wiping off the sweat perched upon his brows. Placing a hand on his chest, and another clasping a handful of the silk bedding, he slowed his racing heart feeling the scar running across it. As he did, he felt the ghosts of pain, remembering the blade touching his skin.

He was going to kill that Prince and all of his men serving him. The fact that he had been unsuccessful in doing so that day, tortured him to the very core. The fact that the Prince was still alive infuriated his very existence. Yes, he had managed to injure him, but it did not satisfy him enough. He needed to kill the Prince with his own hands.

"I will kill him," he muttered, and the body beside him rustled in their sleep.

The day of the battle had been disastrous. After that old General had struck him down, he had fallen unconscious. His men had taken him away from the scene and a female doctor had run in, assessing his condition, the same woman sleeping beside him now. Husaam hated being weak, especially when people were witnessing it. At the age of twenty-eight, his body had become much slower at healing. It had taken him weeks to finally get up and move around without opening the gash that was inches away from his heart.

Delivering the news of an undead Prince to the Master had tainted his pride. He was lucky enough to only receive a single blow to his jaw, which was probably due to the fact that he was already injured. On previous occasions, he had been lashed countlessly for his incompetence. Thankfully, the Master had given him a second chance.

The sound of rustling was heard behind him until he felt a sliver of a hand brush his back.

"General, you're awake." The female doctor whispered, letting her hands trace to his chest as she embraced him. Her once comforting touch felt sticky against his skin and he nudged her off.

"Go back to sleep." He glowered. If she hadn't complied, he would have snapped the hands that had touched him, but she let go instantly and scooted back to her side.

A ghastly smile crept onto Husaam's face as an idea entered his head.

The day his body fully recovered, he would slither his way into Balqaas and deliver the Prince's death. This time, he would be sure to, even if it meant risking his own life and with a little help from the Master, it wouldn't be so difficult getting into the Palace.

This time, he wouldn't disappoint himself nor his brother.

And maybe, he would pay a visit to that old General too.

***

"Then marry me now." Abbas stated.

Even with the gruff look he gave her, Haifa noticed how his voice had softened into almost a plead.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. If you truly mean what you say, then marry me."

As Haifa focused on the Prince's eyes, she could tell he was putting up a strong front. Of course, the man was serious, but she could read his inner thoughts – his eyes were an open book to the sadness, anger and, despite being surrounded by a cloud of darkness, the trifling ember of hope he had left for her.

A feeling she felt and knew all too well.

She couldn't let the flame die.

It was all or nothing, and Haifa knew. Her heart knew before her lips could utter the words.

Now was the time she had to tell him about her scar.

But before she could, Abbas abruptly stood up from his seat and headed for the exit, slipping on his leather sandals.