"I refuse to get married."
The words echoed in the dimly lit room as her fingers tugged at her braid.
"I absolutely refuse. I am not leaving my home and I am NOT getting married."
Dalia had returned to her room and after clearing away the rivers that burst from her eyes, she changed out of her heavy attire into comfortable nightwear and settled herself in the middle of her neatly made silk sheets, basking in the warmth of her mother's favourite shawl which she had wrapped herself in.
"I am not leaving Rughad!" she repeated, yelling out into the emptiness.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at her doors, startling her.
"Amira, is everything alright? Do you need assistance?" came the voice of the Head Maid.
"No!" Dalia cried, and after realising how abrupt she was, she repeated. "No, Raysa I'm fine. You may retire for the night."
"As you wish, Amira."
As the sounds of her footsteps faded, Dalia sighed with relief and fell back onto the cushions.
"I can't get married," she mumbled whilst gazing at the intricately painted ceiling of her bed frame. "I refuse to be filial to the traditional princess duties. I deserve more than being forced into a marriage,"
You deserve the world.
The voice of her mother echoed melancholically in her head and Dalia felt her tears surface again. She had not cried this much since her mother's passing.
Dalia had promised herself not to portray any signs of weakness in front of anyone, not to Masood, and especially not in front of her father. But today she had betrayed her promise.
If only mother were around, she thought. If she were here, she would have never let the King send me off.
Just the thought of her mother being alive again threatened to release another wave of emotion, one she had sealed away all those years back without a second thought. And just when she thought she could blink them away, tears burst forth from the corners of her eyes, spilling past her face and dampening her hair.
Dalia turned to her side and folded her knees onto her stomach. The sniffles turned into unstoppable sobs. All that accompanied her through the night was the lullaby of her cries echoing across the vast expanse of her chambers, pulling her into the realms of sleep.
***
A persistent knocking sound hauled Dalia out of her slumber. As her conscience awoke, the sound of her name being called pricked her ears.
"Amira! Amira, you must wake up!"
Dalia groaned, undoing her braid and freeing the locks of her hair. Raysa had returned.
"What is the matter, Raysa?"
"Amira! You must get ready!"
"Why?" Dalia asked as she pushed past the blankets and perched herself on the edge of her bed.
"May I enter?"
"You may."
The doors swung open and Raysa frantically entered with a navy gown swung over her arms, bowing and then shutting the doors behind her.
"His Majesty invited the Balqaas Prince to dine breakfast with him!"
"And?" Dalia mumbled uninterested. She would rather avoid the Prince at all costs.
"His Highness Masood is with them too,"
A nerve was struck at the mention of her brother's name.
"Did my father request my presence too?"
"No,"
"Then why are you waking me up so early?"
"Because you weren't invited!"
Dalia's lip crept up into a smile.
"It's strange, right? Why would my father not invite me when I'm the one being forced to leave?"
Raysa nodded her head.
"It's not fair right?"
Raysa nodded again.
"When did they start dining?"
"Just after I got here,"
"Raysa, prepare my gown, I have breakfast to crash."
***
Abbas fiddled with his bread. Ignoring the red flags, he cautiously lifted the morsel to his mouth, recited the name of God, and welcomed the coolness of the yoghurt dip. In front of him, he heard the Prince snicker. Abbas didn't bother. A reaction was what people like Prince Masood craved and he knew that all too well.
Abbas chewed it slowly, sifting through the delightful flavours for hidden agendas, and when he was sure that there were not, he gulped it down. It still felt like a rock scratching his insides. He was going to have an upset stomach for the entirety of his stay.
"I understand your hesitancy but I assure you the food is not poisoned," Prince Masood snickered in front of him.
"I can never be too careful,"
"At ease, Prince Abbas, my son is not wrong. We do not dishonour our guests using crude methods." The King affirmed, but it did nothing to relinquish his caution.
"Did you sleep well last night?"
"As well as I could in a lion's den," Abbas retorted.
The King bellowed in response. "I enjoy your humour Prince but-"
Just as Abbas was about to reprimand his sharp tongue, the doors to the hall flung open, tearing his and everyone's attention from the conversation.
There was only one person in the Kingdom of Rughad who was brave enough to interrupt the King.
"Father!"
The Princess, in full grandiose, strode forward with her maidservant a step behind.
"Not again," Masood grumbled.
"I am extremely disappointed that you did not invite me-" she began just as she reached the wide dining table.
"Well, I did not have to since I knew you would turn up anyway."
The corner of Abbas' lips raised in response.
"Sit," The King said.
Dalia's eyes flashed between the side of her brother and the side of her enemy. She couldn't figure out which was worse.
At that moment, Abbas had chosen to look up, only to find the Princess glaring his way.
Dalia, flabbergasted that the Prince had actually looked at her, was nearly knocked off her feet. She hastily dashed to the seat by her brother and sat down. After calming herself, she glanced around the room and was surprised to find that the Prince had come alone. Not one of his men was present in the room, lurking around the edges like Masood's guards. She didn't recall any standing guard outside either.
Dalia did not know if the Prince was foolish or brave.
"I assume you have considered the proposal since you were so eager to join us." The King continued, as they prepared her a serving.
Dalia glanced at the Prince. "I-well-"
Why did he make her feel so nervous? She hated how she was stumbling for words around him.
She cleared her throat. "I have not made my mind up yet."
"Well, since you have graced us with your presence, I am sure you will allow the Prince this chance to convince you." Before she could react, her father turned to the scarred Prince. "Go ahead,"
Abbas froze. "I-uh-"
The King turned back to his daughter. "Dalia, do you have any questions?"
"I do," Masood interrupted. "How did you get that scar?"
Abbas slowly backed away from his plate, raising his eyes to the cocky Prince.
Dalia could not believe the audacity of her brother.
"Masood-" she hissed, kicking his foot under the table. She looked to her father for help, who only looked amusingly at her brother.
"A battle scar," boomed Abbas. "With one of your commanders actually, who played me dirty."
"Looks painful," The Prince replied whilst scoffing more food down. "You must have been quite the charmer before you got that. I couldn't imagine how it feels now,"
Dalia shrank back in her seat, covering her face with her hands.
Abbas wanted to laugh. Prince Masood was but a boy in fine clothes who liked to play games with people's anger.
"Well, I can help you with it if you'd like," Abbas snarled, leaning forward and propping up both of his elbows on the table.
Beside her, Masood snickered but shuffled back a little which only amused Dalia.
"I mean some girls relish that edgy, brooding look, right sis?"
Dalia balled her fists on her thighs before they snapped up and wiped the smirk off her brother's face.
"I don't know what you're talking about," She gritted.
Masood returned his gaze to Abbas. "You're married, right?"
Abbas could not stop the fire alight his veins. " Yes, and I advise you to think carefully about what you utter next lest you with leave this room unharmed."
Dalia looked to her father again for the help, but the King only continued eating as if blood wasn't about to be spilt. She felt sick. Was this a game for both of them?
"Does your wife - ever get scared-"
Abbas shoved his chair back and was ready to grab the boy by the collar when the Princess lept up first and flipped her brother's plate all over him.
"Will you continue to be an embarrassment to us all?" She huffed. "How can father leave our kingdom in the hands of an imbecile with no filter over his mouth?!"
Masood slowly stood up, ignoring the mess as it tumbled from his clothes and took a daring step towards her.
With a sneer, he said "I didn't mean to offend you, sis, I forgot that'll be your future sister-in-law,"
Dalia let out a slow breath, matching her brother's challenging stare.
"Father, clearly our Kingdom will fall into ruin in the hands of a king who can't shut his mouth."
Masood narrowed his eyes at her.
Abbas looked away, trying to think of anything that would help to distinguish the flames in his blood.
"I will excuse myself," he concluded, gathering himself together to leave. "I am grateful that you left my breakfast unpoisoned."
Without looking back, Abbas strode out.
Dalia did not drop her gaze from her brother's until the King called her name.
"Dalia, you may leave."
She hated how her father always dismissed her first, but she could do nothing but obey the King's command. Dalia stalked past the doors, her feet paving a trail of fire behind her until she spotted the scarred Prince ahead of her.
She came to an abrupt stop. He was gazing out of the arches, alone, gripping the ledge with such strength that Dalia could notice how ghostly white his knuckles were even from a distance.
Her foot took a step forward then back. She contemplated her next actions and hated how she felt guilty for her brother's actions.
And before she could hold herself back, Dalia made her presence known.
"Prince Abbas,"
Abbas let go of the ledge and turned his back on the approaching Princess, taking a deep breath before facing her again.
Dalia gripped her hands tightly together hoping it would stop them from trembling. The Prince, on the other hand, refused to meet her eyes. Dalia's eyes flitted around, wondering if his guards were on standby, but there were none.
"I apologise about my imbecile of a brother, not that I like to admit that we are blood-related,"
Abbas felt the corners of his lips raise, but shook his head. "The apology is not yours to make. But, I appreciate it."
Dalia nodded. She waited for the Prince to proceed, but only silence followed. She kept her gaze firm on his face as he turned away slightly, resuming to look out of the arched window.
She was studying him, he knew.
Dalia was puzzled. The Prince was a peculiar character, nothing like any of the previous princes she had met. This Prince was quiet.
Brooding.
And the scar may have brought a fierceness to his appearance, but his character and conduct said otherwise.
She rocked on her heels and fiddled with her curled locks.
"Are you not going to attempt to woo me into going?" She mumbled, feeling the apples of her cheeks heat.
"What more can I say if you have your made mind up already?"
Dalia parted her lips but felt the words choke at her throat.
Footsteps behind her interrupted her thoughts.
"Dalee!"
The sound of the twins slapping sandals against the marble floor drew her attention from the Prince. A wide smile erupted on her features and she swirled to find Yasmin and Tarek dashing towards her, their wet nurses huffing behind.
"What are you both doing here?" she asked, as they smuggled her with hugs.
Because of their ages, Yasmin and Tarek were prohibited from leaving the Harem.
"Does Father know you are here?"
They both nodded excitedly. But the fear became apparent when they spotted the scarred Prince behind her. His eyes had drawn into a sullen expression, almost sorrowful.
Abbas turned his back to them.
"I will take my leave," he announced, before striding off.
"Wait-" Dalia called, but he had already rounded the corner.
"Who is that?" Yasmin asked with a frown.
"That is the Prince from Balqaas,"
"The one that's here to take you away?" Tarek added.
Dalia pressed her lips together, glancing at him.
"Yes, the one that is going to whisk away our poor sister." came a snicker.
Dalia rose to her feet to find Masood with an ensemble of his guards. The wet nurses had retreated back keeping their heads bowed, including Raysa who had just arrived.
Dalia pulled Yasmin and Tarek closer to her.
"You have too much of a choice in things," He tutted. "If I were King, I would have shackled you to the Palaquin and sent you off by now,"
"Well, I'm glad you're not. You'd be a foolish tyrant."
Masood howled in laughter, inching closer to them until he was merely a hand's reach from her. He may have been eleven months younger, but he towered over her petite height.
"I'll make sure you're gone by next week," he said, dropping his voice to a deadly sneer, before marching off.
Dalia released the breath she was holding. She may be the eldest, but he had no sense of respect towards her or any of the women he amused himself with.
The twins gazed up at her with wet eyes, and so she composed herself and plastered on a smile.
"Take us with you when you go," Yasmin whispered, Tarek nodding in agreement.
It took all of Dalia's resolve to stop her smile from trembling.
"I'm not going anywhere,"
Glossary:
Amira - Princess