Written In The Scars

Chapter 8

***

The melodic Adhan awoke the light sleeper. Despite the hours of sleep she had, Haifa still felt the pull of exhaustion beckoning to her. Haifa dragged her heavy head up, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness that enveloped the room.

She gasped, as she remembered where she was. The large walls of the chamber surrounded her, and here she lay, under layers of warm cashmere and silk bedding. Haifa cuddled them closer and wrapped them around her shoulders as she scooted to the edge of the bed and hopped off. Instantly, she felt a wave of warm air drift around the brightened room, as she relit the fireplace and lanterns.

After making Wudhu, she sat on the bed, pondering to herself.

Should I wake him?

And after mentally arguing with herself, she came to a decision.

She would.

Their prior argument wouldn't stop her from doing what was right. It was her responsibility as a wife to remind her husband of prayer, and Haifa knew she would have sinned if she neglected it.

Lightly wrapping a scarf around her head, Haifa stepped out of the room and stopped for she had no idea where he could have gone.

Haifa looked around and remembered that the bedroom was at the end of the Prince's quarters. Her steps were steady as she headed towards the centre. Just before the hallway branched off, Haifa arrived at a large pair of doors mirroring the same patterns as her bedroom's. She knocked three times, before opening them slowly.

"Your Highness?" Haifa called out, still unsure of how to address the Prince.

Darkness greeted her, except for the few candles glowing in the far corners of the room. On one end, a long oak desk stretched across the room and atop it, we're mountains of scrolls and leather-bound books. Her eyes drifted to the walls lined with shelves uoon shelves of books.

Her father's Study was nowhere as big as this, and she recalled how the public library must have contained fewer books than that were in this room altogether.

At the centre of it all, hung a magnificent chandelier, it's jewels reflecting the muted glows of the candles below it.

Haifa shut the doors behind her and ventured deeper into the room.

"Is there anyone here?" she spoke, only the eerie silence responding. Her soft footsteps met the plush carpet below before her eyes landed on the sleeping figure lying across the lounge by the glowing fireplace.

"Abbas?" she whispered, as she drew closer to him, but his body lay unresponsive. She crouched down beside him, noticing the beads of perspiration along his brows. The dying fire had allowed a chill to settle, yet here the Prince lay sweating.

Odd, she thought.

"Abbas?" Haifa repeated, hoping he hadn't actually heard her call him by his name.

Haifa placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and instantly his eyes shot open before a hand snatched her by the wrist. She yelped as her body was roughly pushed down onto the cushions, her scarf falling to her shoulders. Confused, chocolate eyes met hers as the Prince glared at her under his furrowed brows, heaving deeply as he leaned over her petite figure with a knee between her legs.

Abbas blinked. The poor woman looked flabbergasted, as she held his arms, trembling slightly.

"Haifa?" He muttered, loosening his grip. The dim light in the room cast shadows across her surprised features. "What are you-"

Abbas let her go, as he took a step back, running a hand over his matted hair.

"You scared me! Wallahi, I thought you were trying to attack me!" He huffed, trying to keep his voice calm.