Author's Note: Picture of Za'yaal's really hot car.
Whoa. So it's like Monday and here I am with an update... yay! It really just depends on the reads. I made it to 3,000 so I thought, why not? And besides, you guys are seriously the best with all these lovely comments and votes! Jazakamullah for the love!
I've basically divided this book into three parts. There won't be sequels or prequels or anything (as far as I know). This is the first part- A Game That Destroys- and I have about ten more updates before it ends. But that doesn't mean the story ends. Just the part does. And then we'll be moving on to the second part. All of it will be uploaded under this book- I won't be having seperate ones. So, enough with all the rambling- let's get on with the story. Enjoy, vote and comment! Thanks :D
Next update will be out on Friday or if I get 3,500 reads! (In Shaa Allah)
Special thanks to -blueberry123- because she always comments a whole bunch and I have the best time going back and replying!
Chapter 10: The Third Challenge
Myeesha stared at the paper, running her fingers over the corners and absentmindedly smoothing them down. She didn't know what to think.
Challenge Three:
Make me smile
Make the Heir smile? Was that even possible? Had she ever seen him smile? It was so hazy- she had no idea.
Maybe she should tell him a joke. No, she only knew corny ones that were probably bound to get her humiliated instead of him grinning like a loon.
Myeesha's eyes lit up. She could tickle him! Wait . . . no, that wouldn't work. She would have to touch him to tickle him and that wasn't allowed in Islam. She also wasn't sure if he even was ticklish. What if she tried to brush his sides and he kicked her out for acting inappropriate? Sigh. Plan C.
She could force him to smile but that required touching him too. There really were no other ideas she could think of. If she slept on it, her brilliant mind would think of something in the morning. Perhaps.
Instead, she found comfort in sucking on lemon sour strings. The acidic tinge was delicious and her face brightened. Whoever invented sour strings was her hero.
Smile . . . smile . . . how should she make the Last of Dragos smile?
That was her last thought before she slept and the first thing she thought of in the morning.
Myeesha was late. She had gone to bed late that night and had woken only half an hour before breakfast. Throwing on the first dress she saw- a sky blue silk number with white lace and a white sweater, she barely made it to the dining hall on time. She was the final female to sprint through the door and sprawl onto her chair out of breath. The whole dining hall turned to stare at her and she gave a nervous wave before chugging down a glass of juice. She did not miss the Heir and his right-hand man's amused expressions.
Thankfully she was given plenty of time to eat her meal while the other girls were called into the Heir's quarters, one by one. Most of them returned looking disheveled and giddy- their lipstick smeared. Irsa especially took a long time and came back smoothing her dress.
Myeesha turned bright red when Midas leaned over and whispered, "Seduction. You think you have it in you?"
Seduction? How was that supposed to make Za'yaal smile? Or maybe it did. Great. She could hardly seduce a hippopotamus.
"No," she frowned. "I've barely even talked to a man before!"
Midas chuckled. "Yikes. Just flutter your eyelashes a lot and walk like a cat."
Myeesha felt a pang of sadness at the memory of her little fluff ball. She quickly pushed the feeling away because she knew if she dwelled on it, she would eventually burst into a fit of tears. And that wouldn't do.
"I don't know how to walk like a cat."
"Swing your hips, suck in your stomach, one foot in front of the other," Midas instructed. "Simple."
Myeesha grimaced. "That sounds painful."
"Look, just go in there and work your magic. I'm sure Za'yaal will smile at the sight of you."
She glanced at the clock. Nearly every girl was taking half an hour in the room. "This is going to be a while, isn't it?"
"You think making Za'yaal smile is easy? Darling, he smirks and leers and looks self-satisfied. The Heir does not smile unless he truly means it."
"He isn't fake," Myeesha summed up and raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner. Midas nodded.
"Precisely."
From behind him, Tyron called his name. Midas glanced up and excused himself to go over to the guard. They indulged in deep conversation before both left the room. Myeesha bit her bottom lip, suddenly feeling alone. She sighed and went to her bedroom to pray. After finishing with Zuhr, she flounced down onto her bed and pulled her knees up, laying her head over the top. She smiled softly in thought.
"Hey, Myeesha! Where'd Ruhayl go?"
Myeesha's head snapped up. She was sitting near the stream, reading a book. They had a small stock of novels- her mother's little library. Myeesha took her time reading them, slowly absorbing the words her mother had enjoyed so long ago.
"What do you mean?" Her voice rose in panic. "Wasn't he with you?"
Musa shrugged and looked around. "He isn't now."
"Why are you so calm?" Myeesha shrieked and shot up. The book dropped to the floor and her face paled. "Ruhayl! Ruhayl!"
No answer.
Her breathing hitched.
"Ruhayl, baby, where are you?" She rushed into the cottage, praying he was inside. The cozy little house was dark and there wasn't a single sign of movement.
"RUHAYL!" The tears came then. She sobbed while running back and forth, in the house, out into the woods. Her twin stood by her garden and she sprinted to him, her eyes wide and her manner frantic. "Musa, he's not here! Oh my Allah, he's not here!"
"Myeesha, it's okay. Don't freak out."
She glowered at him, sniffing. "It's okay?" She echoed bitterly. "Ruhayl isn't here, Musa! Our baby brother is gone!"
Then she heard it.
The sweetest giggle.
Ruhayl's little head peeked out from behind Musa's leg. "Boo!"
Myeesha nearly passed out in relief.
She dropped to her knees and crashed him to her chest, smothering him with kisses and squeezing him tightly. "Ruhayl, oh Allah, Ruhayl."
Musa burst into laughter. "Oh my Allah, your face! You were crying! You actually thought I lost him?"
Myeesha's mouth dropped open as realization dawned upon her. "MUSA I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
She lunged for him, making sure Ruhayl was safe before she did. "Whoa, wait!" Musa squealed and tried to fight her off.
"You. Scared. Me!" She yelled and tickled his sides. "Die, evil baboon!"
Musa laughed uncontrollably and swatted at her hands. Ruhayl giggled and clapped his hands, enjoying the sounds of torture.
"Stop- p . . . please! My-Myeesha!" He sounded breathless, his stomach hurting.
Myeesha grinned in satisfaction and finally sat back. "There. You deserved that."
Musa glared. "You should have more faith in me. I would never lose him."
"That doesn't justify your actions," Myeesha retorted and pulled Ruhayl into her arms. The chubby baby cuddled close and sighed in content. She kissed his cheek and rubbed his back soothingly.
"Meemee? Nana."
"I'm sorry; you ate the last one yesterday."
"Nana," Ruhayl grouched. "Ple?"
'When you can't get a banana, go for the next best fruit,' Myeesha thought in amusement. 'Great strategy, kid.'
Myeesha frowned. "There may be a few strawberries in the cupboard."
She had picked the last of the plump red fruit the day before. Ruhayl scurried off her lap and felt his way into the kitchen. Myeesha got up and went after him to make sure he didn't get hurt. Musa, feeling rejected, trailed behind them. Ruhayl took the three strawberries, waddled out to the stream and washed them thoroughly before placing one in Myeesha's palm and one in Musa's. He then proceeded to gobble down the smallest, a bright grin on his face.
"Oh look, Ruhayl you missed one," Myeesha said and gave him the strawberry back.
He furrowed his eyebrows. "Meemee?"
"I've already eaten. That's an extra one."
He lit right up and ate it quickly. Musa smiled softly and made a similar excuse. They watched in happiness at their baby brother eat the strawberries and smear red juice on his cheeks and chin.
"I'll always watch over him, you know that, right Myeesha?"
She glanced up at the determination in her twin's eyes. "Yeah."
Myeesha felt her heart settle. Her twin would protect Ruhayl when she couldn't. They had promised their mother. And she would take care of them both.
Oh, how she missed her brothers! How she longed to see them again. Perhaps if she was successful in making the Heir smile, he would let her have a small meeting. Five minutes. Two. She didn't care. She just wanted to hold them in her arms again and laugh.
Time flew as she reminisced in memories. Moments of joy and content with her two brothers, staying awake at night when Ruhayl was sick, saving up for toffees when Musa worked hard and deserved a reward, sharing every bit of food that came their way, never realizing they were considered poor when they had what they needed most; each other. Myeesha looked around, at the expensive draperies, the silken sheets . . . she would gladly trade everything for a few moments with her brothers. She fingered the soft cloth of the dress she wore- this wasn't her. These weren't fineries she wanted to get used to. Living in rags was worth it if she had Ruhayl and Musa.
The tears came then. Hot and grieved. Her heart filled with yearning for the chubby toddler and the boy who had been through everything with her. She had never missed her parents this much. She remembered her parents on occasion, of course. But she no longer pined for them as she did for her brothers.
She barely noticed a maid enter and set a tray on her bedside table.
The food was cold when Midas knocked on her door.
"Myeesha?"
She hastily wiped her tears and pushed up her veil. "Come in." Her voice sounded hoarse and heavy; hopefully Midas wouldn't notice.
"Hey, it's your number," Midas said with a small smile. He realized she was upset, judging from her swollen red eyes and the way she sniffed every two seconds.
She bobbed her head up and down and slipped on her flats, following him out. Midas led her to the Heir's bedroom and opened the door. Tyron stood near the door with guards lining both ends. Midas gave her a reassuring nod and she took a deep breath before walking in. Za'yaal glanced up from the file he was reading and released a breath.
"Lock the door."
Myeesha pressed the tiny button.
"Your time starts now."
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Time?"
"You weren't informed? You have thirty minutes to complete the task."
"Oh. No, no one told me."
"Incompetent fools," Za'yaal sneered in annoyance.
"It's not a big deal."
"They should learn to do as they're told. What do I pay them for?" He rolled his eyes. "Your time has started, Myeesha."
"Right. Um . . ." she looked around, hoping an idea would pop up in her mind. She recalled a few of Musa's jokes and decided to try her luck. It wasn't as if she could seduce him really.
"Okay, so a man went to a doctor-"
Za'yaal arched an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"
She folded her arms over her chest. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"
"I can think of a number of things," he smirked.
"I will not even consider trying to do anything vaguely risqué."
Za'yaal groaned. "Carry on. The man went to his lawyer."
"Doctor," Myeesha corrected. "A man went to the doctor."
"Continue."
"The doctor asked him what was wrong and he said he had had a nightmare in which he'd swallowed a watermelon whole."
The Heir wrinkled his nose. "That's disgusting."
Myeesha glowered at him for interrupting. "The doctor didn't see what the problem was and the man said that when he woke up, his pillow was gone."
"Oh my God!" Za'yaal drew back in shock. "Ew, he ate his pillow?"
"It's . . . supposed to be funny."
He fixed her with a skeptic look. "Yeah, Myeesha, you flunked. Keep it up."
"This isn't easy!" Myeesha threw her hands up. "I mean, it's not hard making Midas smile but you are a different specie altogether."
Za'yaal blinked twice when he felt his stomach turn. Was that . . . envy? For his childhood best friend? No, surely not.
"I know more jokes," Myeesha continued.
Za'yaal shrugged off the peculiar feeling and turned his attention back to her. "Get on with it."
"A woman entered a shop and said to the clerk that she was looking for a tie that would make her husband's eyes pop out. The clerk replied, 'Ma'am, any scarf will make his eyes pop out if you tie it tight enough.'"
Za'yaal rubbed his temples. She really had bad taste in jokes.
"That is sadistic, woman."
"I thought it was funny," Myeesha offered in her defense.
"Myeesha."
"Okay, okay, one more!"
"Last one."
"All right. An employee approached his boss regarding a dispute on his pay-check. He said, 'sir, this is $100 less than my salary.' The boss replied, 'I know. But last month, when you were overpaid $100, by mistake, you didn't complain.' The employee then said 'well, I don't mind an occasional mistake, sir, but it seems to be becoming a habit, now!'"
Myeesha chuckled and Za'yaal fought the urge to smile. Finally, he allowed a slight quirk of his lips and Myeesha's eyes lit up. "See! I knew I wasn't a total nincompoop."
"You're so pathetic; I have to go easy on you."
"That was very rude of you."
"I'm so sorry." He tilted his head. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. I'll say a tongue twister and if you can get it right in three tries, I'll smile."
"Really?"
"I do not lie."
"Deal."
This would certainly be entertaining.
Za'yaal's gaze never left hers. "I thought a thought. But the thought I thought wasn't the thought I thought I thought. If the thought I thought I thought had been the thought I thought, I wouldn't have thought so much."
Myeesha's jaw dropped open. "T-that's not fair! You knew I couldn't do this one!"
Za'yaal shrugged. "That's a thought."
"I-I-"
"Do you accept defeat?"
Myeesha bit her bottom lip. "Can you please repeat it? Write it down, maybe?"
He rolled his eyes. "I'll say it again a bit slower. Last chance."
She tried to memorize it while he said the tongue twister once more. When he was done, he waited for her to speak.
Myeesha looked away and sighed. "I don't know it." She sounded so dejected.
Za'yaal leaned forward in interest. "You're willing to risk losing this round and being disqualified?"
"You won't hurt my brothers, will you?"
The way her concern instantly snapped to her brothers always amazed him. She would probably be lying under a sharp blade, seconds away from death, and still inquire about their safety.
And he was slightly disappointed she didn't want to fight for the victory.
"No."
"I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?"
"I truly wished to see you smile," she answered softly. "Maybe not just for the competition."
Za'yaal furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"
"It would be nice to know you still have something worth smiling for."
Za'yaal's eyes widened and he felt his breath hitch at her words.
A moment of pregnant silence passed between them before he finally managed to muster a response.
Midas, who never judged him and who went through with every whim of his even if he ended up getting hurt in the end. His loyalty never ceased to surprise him.
Tyron, who had so swiftly taken up the role of his father. The man had never asked for anything in return, always saying Za'yaal's safety came first. His protectiveness amazed him.
Shifa, who always doted over him like a mother hen and smacked him around when he tried to push her away for worrying too much. In truth, her comforting words never annoyed him.
The bodyguards who were promised nothing other than a bit of wealth to lay down their lives for him. And they did so more than willingly. Their value for his life showed him he wasn't completely unwanted.
In the end, he thought about Myeesha. Myeesha who he had nearly broken. Myeesha who had wished for him to smile. Myeesha who had never shown him her face or her body but he was attracted to her. To her innocence and purity. Myeesha who never gave up on her loved ones.
His heartbeat quickened.
"I do, Myeesha. I do."
She tilted her head, warm hazel clashing with ocean blue. "I'm glad," she replied sincerely.
And he smiled.