To Love A Prince

5.

***

Nurain leaned back with an air of nonchalance about him. As he moved, the chains rattled in the silence of his cell, and he chuckled as he found the sound quite amusing.

Arafat bent down on the other side of the cell, and he was now glaring at him on the same eye level. His hatred for this man was unparalleled, and the last time they'd spoken, the conversation ended very nastily indeed.

"There's something different about you," Nurain said. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about you is different."

"Maybe it's the fact that I'm standing on this side of the cell and you're not," Arafat said.

"It's all perspective, really," Nurain added. "From my side, it looks like you're the one behind bars."

Arafat chuckled mirthlessly. He was used to this, having dealt with Nurain several times already. The man was a thief unlike any other, and a scoundrel whose criminal history preceded him. His reputation was known to all the lowlifes in Savia, where he had been arrested so many times that all the guards in the palace knew his name. Even the king of Savia knew him personally, and he had tried several times to have the man hanged, but like a magician, Nurain always managed to escape.

But he wouldn't escape this time. Arafat would make sure that this would be the last time he ever hurt anyone.

"Tell me, you must be shocked to see me, aren't you?" Nurain asked.

"Not particularly," Arafat replied. "You're one of the very few lousy criminals I know who will always manage to get caught. I should have known it was you from the moment someone was captured."

"Funny," Nurain remarked, "I always seem to get caught and yet I always seem to escape. Don't you think that's a sign that there is more to me than meets the eye?"

"Enough of this," Arafat said in a clipped tone. "Who sent you to do this?"

Nurain shook his head as he laughed. He looked up at Arafat, then shook his head once again.

"What makes you think I'm working for someone else?" he asked.

"Because you are not smart enough to pull off an attack like this. And even if you were, why would you come here to Azrah? Your jurisdiction ends in Savia. You would never attempt something like this without some assurance from someone more powerful."

"Well, you're not wrong about the last part. But your greatest mistake has always been that you underestimate me, Arafat. I am capable of bringing you to your knees if I were to desire so."

"Who was it?" Arafat demanded.

Nurain chuckled once again, but when he finished, he turned serious once again. The shadow which crossed over his eyes did not escape Arafat's notice. But there was something else there; something which he never thought he would see on Nurain's face.

Fear.

"I would tell you if I knew," he said. "But all I know about him is that he's powerful, he's just as twisted as any man you've ever met, and maybe even more than that. You think you've faced evil men before? I'm telling you, you've never faced anyone like him before, Arafat."

"The name," Arafat said. "Give us the bloody name."

"Ali," Nurain said in a quiet voice. "That's what I heard the men call him."

Arafat straightened up, and he turned to face his father, who had the same blank expression on his face. Clearly he had never heard of this Ali, which meant he was probably a nobody. Or some farce which Nurain had just cooked up.