Winner of the 'Readers Choice Award' in Historical Fiction.
Winner of the 'Readers Choice Award' in Spiritual Category.
Winner of Best Muslim Readers' Choice Awards: Prince of Knights
_____________
Arabs are well known for their culture, Po...
Welcome to the LAST chapter of Prince of Knights. I did not want to write it like the most cliche last chapters. It gives a slight glimpse of Eagle of Knights and has a normal pace.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~*If you were at the level of my madness, you would throw your world, and sleep in my eyes~*
Five months later
Branches of the palm trees swayed in the humid wind. The dates had transformed from green to brown, ready to be plucked by the owners and sold.
The sun was yet to reach its peak. There was not a single cloud visible in the vast sky. It was the season of no rain, but the wind still accompanied the Borkan tribe. Twirling in circles, it halted before the window of a specific room and invaded without an invitation. The intruder swayed the curtains, and the light blanket draped on the cot upon its entrance.
The chamber was almost dark. The only source of light was the lantern next to the door and the slightly open wooden window. There were two water pots next to the shelves and a large chest by the door.
The wind blushed at the sight in front of it, and it gaped, spellbound. The bride sat with her back against the wall on the floor seating, her legs crossed with her spouse, Faris resting his head on her lap. The wind placed a hand on its heart and sighed.
It tiptoed further in the room and grinned as Faris moved to his right side and grabbed Raghad's hand in his. "We will be late, Faris," Raghad whispered, caressing Faris's hair that reached his shoulders with her free hand.
"There is still a lot of time, woman. Let me rest." He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, his eyes closed.
"What if we are truly late?" Raghad now traced the scar on Faris's eyebrow, then moved the tips of her fingers over his thick eyelashes.
Faris opened his inky eyes and looked up at her and smiled. "Before coming here, I asked Nasser if everything was ready. He has yet to prepare the dates and clothes."
They sat there in silence for a while. Faris brought Raghad's hand against his chest and held it there, closing his eyes once again. His face was peaceful, something, Raghad had discerned appeared after the war.
"Faris," Raghad murmured again.
"Hmm."
"Do you ponder that Nasser shall be able to walk properly by his wedding?"
"You do not wish for me to rest, woman." Faris chuckled.
"I am serious." Raghad lightly shoved at his shoulder with her free hand.
Knight of knights inhaled. "He can walk now. We all believed Nasser would never be able to stand on his feet after the war but look at him now. Yes, he is unstable, but he can still walk," He moved further to his right so now his face was buried in her midriff. "In sha Allah, he will be able to walk and sprint by his wedding. He is a knight, after all."
