Entangled

AGBÉ̩KẸ́

"Let her in," the King commanded, his voice a low rumble that resonated with authority.

This time, the King is lounging shirtless on the comfy couch beside his bed. In Egypt, where people wear less clothing due to the intense sun, it's common to see shirtless men around the palace. However, seeing the King shirtless makes me feel uneasy.

I notice five distinct scars on his body, and the thought of closely inspecting more makes me uncomfortable. Shaking my head, I dismiss the idea, wondering about the story behind those scars.

"Here's your breakfast," I murmured, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the air as I placed the food upon the polished surface of the desk before him.

As he cleared his throat, I picked up the spoon and tasted the food, wondering, "Do we have to repeat this every time?" if I truly wanted to harm him, I could have done it already, but I wouldn't stoop to that level.

He wrapped a shirt around himself. "The palace is difficult; I don't trust anyone. Have you had breakfast?" he inquired.

"Not yet."

"Sit," he insisted, handing me a spoon.

"I'll eat later."

"Just eat; we've much to do today. You may not have another chance. Don't make me change my mind." Silence lingered briefly as his gaze met mine, but he averted his eyes swiftly.

We shared a meal in somewhat awkward silence, the proximity allowing me to observe him more closely. Amidst his impressive attributes, such as his well-toned physique and handsome face, what captivated me the most were his eyes—a comforting and deep shade of brown.

"Your plan from the other day was brilliant; I want the building completed in time for my mother's memorial. Thank you," he acknowledged.

"Ehm... You're welcome." I struggled to articulate my feelings, a mix of warmth and nervousness enveloping me. Experiencing the loss of a mother is a profound pain, something I wouldn't wish upon even my worst enemy.

It leaves an enduring void that seems impossible to fill. While part of me wants to inquire about his mother, I choose not to; it's a personal matter that doesn't concern me.

The King spends the remainder of our afternoon engrossed in work, with me offering assistance as usual. Today sets itself apart from the previous ones spent with him; his demeanour is tolerable.

Still, no matter how tolerant he may seem, it's essential to keep in mind that he disrupted my life and separated me from my family.

He walks out of his room wearing what looks like ceremonial attire, a gold headpiece resting on his head. "Let's go," he says, and I follow him.

People around us stop what they're doing and bow in respect. Sometimes, I forget he's the King of an empire; his presence carries a solid and commanding aura.

We reach the exquisitely adorned grand hall, where everyone rises to welcome the King. I notice a distinction between the higher-class individuals gathered around a sizable table, separate from the lower-class and servants.

The table was adorned with a tempting array of dishes, desserts, wine, and more—all of it looking irresistibly delicious.

My thoughts drift to the missed taste of palm wine, a beverage I would sneakily enjoy with my brother. The mere idea of my dad or stepmother discovering it threatens serious trouble.

The King assumed his position at the head of the table, and the others took their seats around him. Familiar faces drew my attention, with Rashidi situated near Khalid.

The lady from a few days ago, who had entered the King's chamber and played a role in his decision to let me go, occupied a seat beside a man resembling Khalid. Rehema and her mother also found their places at the table. Spotting the little angel, I welcomed her with a smile, waving my hand in acknowledgement.

"Welcome, my king," one of Khalid's ministers mentioned.

Khalid nodded in response.

"It's great to see you, cousin. I haven't seen you in ages. Thanks for the invite," remarked the man who resembled Khalid, sipping wine from his glass. That resolved my curiosity—he is Khalid's cousin.

"It's 'king' now, Yusuf. We might be cousins, but I am your King," Khalid declared, glaring at Yusuf, his jaw clenched.

Yusuf lifted his wine-filled glass, saying, "Long live the king!" with a smirk and narrowed eyes aimed at Khalid. The tension between them escalated noticeably, making it clear they weren't best friends. Rehema's mother intervened, breaking the tension. "The food is going to get cold; let's eat," she declared, picking up her spoon.

As everyone savoured their meals, dancers and musicians provided lively entertainment. The atmosphere was vibrant, and everyone appeared to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Their unique culture, reflected in their food, attire, music, and dance, starkly contrasted with my homeland's. Under different circumstances, being here could have been a wonderful and enlightening experience.

Homesickness washed over me suddenly; I longed for my family, for the comfort of home. Excusing myself from the hall, I sensed the King's gaze, but thankfully, he didn't intervene.

I found my way to a small garden in the palace and settled down, reminiscing about home. The atmosphere was tranquil. Gazing at the dark sky, the moon cast its bright glow, illuminating every corner of the garden, while stars twinkled like gems in the night sky. "Mom, are you up there? I miss you," I whispered, blinking back the moisture in my eyes.

"Are you okay?" A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned my head in the direction of the voice and spotted Rashidi approaching.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, gathering my composure to avoid appearing vulnerable in front of him. The last thing I needed was for anyone to witness me in tears.

"I saw you leaving the grand hall. Khalid wanted me to make sure you're okay," Rashidi explained, settling into the seat beside me.

"He did?" I asked, surprise evident in my widened eyes.

"Yes."

"I just needed some fresh air; I'm fine."

"Okay," Rashidi replied, then continued after a short pause. "I won't be around for a few days. I have to take care of some things. I hope you won't miss me too much," he smiled.

I chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. "You're lucky; at least you get to leave the palace walls. I wish to explore the city; being within these palace walls feels suffocating."

"I can take you with me if you like. We can sneak away together, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after," he said, sarcasm lacing his words.

I laughed. "As much as I'd love to leave the palace, I don't think I'm ready to get married or have kids."

"Don't forget the happily ever after part. Everyone wants a happily ever after," he ventured.

"Well, I don't think things will end happily ever after for me," I replied, giving a wry smile. We walked back to the hall, conversing about various random topics.