Inscribed In The Stars

Chapter 1

"Announce my arrival."

The guards shifted on their feet. "But Sahiba-"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

The guard exchanged a quivering look with his partner, neither daring to lift their heads.

The Princess huffed impatiently. "Announce my arrival or-"

To her satisfaction, the guards drew sharp breaths before she could finish.

"Your Majesty," The taller one began, and inside the muffled voices hushed.

Her mouth curved into a smile.

"Princess Dalia Al-Ruwaisi, the eldest daughter of His Highness King of Rughad and the late Queen, has arrived."

Before she received permission to enter, the Princess lifted both of her heavily adorned hands, mustered all her strength, and pushed open the doors to the Great Assembly Hall.

The room was achingly silent.

Dalia strode forward carrying the elegance of the palace peacocks as all eyes in the room trailed her. Those who were undeserving of her beauty kept their heads lowered. Instead, their ears pricked at every rhythmic tap of her shoes against the smooth marble tiles. She continued, striding past the unwelcome guests without so much as a glance, and halted by the foot of her father's throne.

"Your Majesty," she greeted. Her eyes unwavering, she dipped into a small bow.

"Princess," The King mused.

Dalia cringed a little at the title. Her father only ever addressed her this way when he was unimpressed, the first in years.

She strode up the steps anyway and scooped up her father's ageing hand, bringing it to the exposed skin of her forehead, then lips. A gesture of respect.

As she raised her head once more, her eyes flashed to her brother beside them.

Prince Masood scoffed, returning an envious roll of his eyes.

"What brings my daughter here?" The king asked, bringing her attention back.

"I was informed of an unusual guest at the Palace and I wish to offer my greetings. It is not every day we expect to be welcomed by their presence,"

The King hummed.

"As your eldest daughter, I thought it would be appropriate that I offer my appearance in my late mother's place,"

At that, the king's lips rose, a rare occurrence that Dalia had spent years trying to imitate.

Beside them, her brother's frown deepened.

"You must be jesting," He spat, scooting to the edge of his embellished seat. "Your presence is not needed, sister. You can leave the politics to the men."

Balling her anger in her fists, she awaited the response of her father.

"And why is that?"

"Well, because she doesn't know anything-"

"Since the Prince is unable to justify his reason, I shall accept the Princess' request. You may take your seat,"

Dalia released the breath she was holding and gave a grateful nod to her father. As she slipped into her mother's seat, she directed a smirk at her brother who was writhing in his own fury.

Taking a seat, she smoothed the silk fabric of her bejewelled skirt, and rested her arms on either side of the majestic throne, basking in the feel of the velvet cushions on her fingertips. Oh, how she waited for this moment. Unlike her brother, her mother's throne was the closest she was going to get to having a place on the pedestal beside her father. Her moment of bliss was pushed aside when she remembered her real reason for being here.