Written In The Scars

Chapter 30

"What?! I refuse, I am not going with you!" She rebuked, her throat scratchy.

"It's a shame you were born without a choice,"

"No! I refuse to return!" Salma refuted, shuffling backwards, as two men in different attire unlocked the prison and stepped inside. "Please, I can't go back! Please help me, I would rather be punished!"

Despite her pleading words, they hauled her up by the chains around her wrists and pulled her towards the exit. Salma attempted to fight back but was overpowered easily by the strength of the two men.

"Please, someone help me!" she screamed, trying to shake off the guard's iron grip.

"The King will be very pleased to know that I have found his beloved concubine, "The Visier hissed before he pushed a damp cloth over her mouth and nose. The pungent smell overcame her senses and her muscles became heavy and sluggish as if her energy was being robbed of her.

"Help me-" were the last words she whispered before her eyelids dropped shut.

***

Haifa's ears were ringing. News of the perpetrator's execution had been decided. Tomorrow at daybreak, his life would end in from of an audience with the general public.

"What are you thinking?" came a voice, interrupting her thoughts.

Haifa looked up from the book she was attempting to read. The Prince, who had emerged from the bathing room, ruffled a cotton towel over his glistening hair whilst drops of water dampened the collar of his shirt. He strode over to the vanity, his broad back facing her.

Haifa shook her head. "It's nothing,"

Abbas glanced at her reflection. She was crawled up by the corner of the cushions surrounded by the shelves of books, his favourite and most comforting place in the room. Despite the rest she had had, her face still looked tired. Her hair was neatly plaited to one side, the braid hanging over her right shoulder and collar bone, whilst flecks of hair escaped from behind her ears. He returned his attention to his face, staring at the healing scar across his face. After applying the ointment, Abbas placed the ceramic pot down, only to have noticed an object missing from its usual spot.

"Your dagger, it isn't here," he stated casually, hoping not to alarm her.

Haifa was silent for a second, then answered. "I-I had Mina put it away, I couldn't bear to see the sight of it. It's in the top drawer,"

Abbas pulled it open. There her golden scabbard nestled above the neatly folded silk scarves.

"Hayaati, are you going to keep it here forever?"

She didn't respond, instead keeping her eyes screwed on the illustrations of constellations.

Abbas scooped it up gently in his hands and gently shut the drawer, before walking over to where she sat, holding it behind his back.

"Haifa," he called, as he took a seat in front of her. Carefully, he pulled back the book and rested it beside them, cradling his free hand in hers.

"Your father wouldn't be happy if he knew you were neglecting it,"

"What is the point? I couldn't even use it properly when I needed to," she mumbled.

"You're wrong about that,"

"But you ended up getting hurt,"