A Game That Destroys ✓

10- The Third Challenge

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."