A Desert Rose (editing)

~ E I G H T E E N | R E V E L A T I O N S ~

The grandeur of the main hall was particularly spectacular today. The soft sound of the drums entrancing the number of men who had come to be captivated by the beauty of a single woman.

Laila stiffened, her eyes refusing to explore as she approached the sultan. She had bought only Wafiyyah with her, Hafsa still being too unwell to accompany anyone.

The arrogant leader leaned back on his chair, baring an expression of anticipation, his eyes glowered deep into the girl before him.
As though he knew something she didn't.

Laila could not help but drop her gaze, powerless to cope with the evil of his stare.
"I am pleased to see you have accepted my invitation."
As if you gave me an option, she thought.

"Laila?!" A shocked voice sounded from behind her. Usman approached them in fury, seeing red as the room of men fell back into their corners. Sultan Amir merely opened his arms wide.

"Usman, my son! Late as usual." His welcome was cut short as Usman immediately felt for Laila's hand, dragging her behind him.

"What is she doing here?" he asked. Amir snickered,
"It was an official invitation from myself." He stated whilst raising his brows, daring his servant.
Laila felt it, the fury.
Usman was almost shaking, gripping her hand tightly as he formed his own in a fist.

"This is no place for a woman." He asserted through gritted teeth.
"Not a common woman." The sultan immediately replied.

"She will stay." He ordered as Usman abruptly turned to leave.

"I said, she will stay. Do you hear me Usman?"Amir stated. Her husband froze, unmoving. She felt her hand begin to fall as his grip loosened.

Please don't, she wanted to plead.
I'm right here, he squeezed her hand.

Dropping his hold, he turned to face his sultan.
"As you wish." Usman conceded.
Amir gestured to his left, inviting Laila to sit beside him. She hesitated, looking towards her husband who only nodded.

Reluctantly did as she was told, watching as Usman sat across from her on the opposite side of the room. 

It was silent, the small talk diminishing as the oil lamps were dimmed and a set of curtains were opened to reveal a slim figure.
Her face was covered by a sheer, shiny material, accentuating her kohl lined eyes.
She wore clothes which should have been barred for any respectable woman, the shape of her body hypnotising as it moved against the beat of the drums, the sound of a flute and tambourines softly joining it.

Her eyes were everywhere, yet nowhere. As though she had charmed even herself.
The dance she performed was not for those outside of female company. It was forbidden for the lustful eyes of men; and yet the woman sinned.

Laila found shame in her stare, eyes falling to the ground as she questioned her invitation to such impudence.
She forced the frown on her husband, him refusing to meet her, despite knowing of the disappointment.

She ached to leave, wanting to follow her instincts when suddenly a hard hand fell on her wrist, forcing her still. She raised her head, instantly meeting the eyes of the sultan.

"Where are you going Amirah, the party has only just begun," he whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the absorbing music.
Laila struggled against his hold, praying for help from Usman who was no longer in his place. She felt a chill down her spine, her body heating as an unknown fear began to form in the pit of her stomach.