QAIS

Chapter 20: I Can Hold You

As the weather turned colder by the day, the tides Qais had raged only turned stormier. It had been a week since everything.

In the North Province, riots and protests were high. Prince Jahan, the Governor of the North, had returned but upon the chaos that Qais had seeded, the Prince was nothing but a headless chicken. His council was destroyed, because of the murder and consequent arrests. The bomb blasts, linked to the tribals had the people in outrage because it was Jahan that had allowed the tribals in the first place. The military had taken advantage of this and were forcing the Prince to allow military operations on the tribals. In just a few days Governor Jahan’s popularity had been turned into doubt. The people no longer felt secure under his rule. They could do nothing but riot and protest as his father was the King and he could not be challenged.

On the other hand the Capital was still recovering from the loss of the Crown Prince. The Palace had still not issued a statement on who the new Crown Prince would be, it had the nation shrouded with uncertainty.

Meanwhile in Insafaan, the biggest current issue was…

Flowers.

After setting fire to the political situation of the country, Qais was worrying about flowers.

Pasha couldn’t understand. The lord had specifically asked to ignore the gardens during the renovation of the villa, and now when it was the season of killer snow he had suddenly decided to plant flowers? And that even imported from all over the world on a ridiculously expensive urgent notice. Snowdrops from the UK, camellias from Japan, many from Singapore and a garden worth of Juliet Roses that would dent even a millionaire’s bank.

The two were currently in the young lord’s library. It was in the grand wing, composed of five large halls in total, filled to the roof with books about almost every last topic on earth.

“It was here somewhere.” Qais wondered out loud. He had read every last of the thousands of books of this library almost a decade ago and he still remembered where was which.

Pasha watched him in fascination. It was one of the few times where Pasha would genuinely be impressed by his spoilt, arrogant lord. His photographic memory, coupled with a childhood interest in books made him no less than a marvel. Of course there was not a speck of that interest now as an adult.

“Can you please remember already?” Pasha asked as he stood on the moving ladder. He had been drifting back and forth for the past one hour. He almost felt dizzy.

Qais gave a mischievous, dimpled grin from below, before reaching forth and picking out a book from the shelf. “Its been here all along.”

Pasha’s expression fell. That fucking lord had been playing with him. “You fucking–” His eyes widened as Qais extended his leg towards the foot of the old ladder. “–No.. Sir, sir… I– QAIS!”

The lord tripped the ladder.

“Oomphh–” If Pasha had not jumped in time and braced himself before hitting the ground, he would surely have landed a broken bone from that height.

“Huh, your reflexes are still there.” The annoying aristocrat hummed in commendation.

Pasha could only seethe in reply as the lord settled on a sofa and flipped through the garden book. Swallowing his anger he stood guard on his post beside him.

After a while Qais spoke up, mood shifting to seriousness like a chameleon drowning Pasha’s complaints as well.

“Tell me about Layla’s family.” The word family left a sour taste in Qais’s mouth. Do they even deserve to be called her family? “And news from those bastards?”