Badriya As-Sahra is sick of piling up camel dung and picking people's pockets for a living. Her world discriminates against women and orphans, and it is only her damned luck that she happens to be both. She yearns for more but can't do anything else...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The prince and the princess sat under the shade of one of the palm trees in the garden. The sound of gurgling water from the springs nearby filled the silence. Along with it were the captive birds that sang their unique songs in the air. Not a single gust of wind disturbed the peace.
The princess rested her head over the prince's shoulder, her eyes closed. She listened at the slightest rustle of the leaves, the melodies of the birds, and the rise and fall of the prince's chest. She never had this much peace before. Not even once did she have the luxury to do anything quiet or enjoyable, but now that she had, she thought of how much her old life lacked.
She was glad she left that life for good.
"I'm bored," the princess murmured. "So bored."
She looked up to see the prince eyeing her with amusement. His perfect smile was so contagious she was smiling back.
"Should I entertain you with a story, then?" the prince asked. "I know a few good ones."
The princess sat straight. "I've got a better idea. Why don't we spar?"
The prince looked surprised. "That's an... odd request."
"How come?" The princess flicked a finger at his nose teasingly. "You offered me a sword lesson, remember? When we first met in the desert, you told me I was good with the dagger."
His brows crinkled, which in turn made the princess falter. Her grinning lips slowly became a set of pressed lines.
"I don't think I remember saying that," he said. "But if you want to do that-"
"Never mind," the princess said quickly. "Just go on with your story."
She leaned onto him again, this time clinging to his arm. It seemed like a loving gesture, but her fingers wrapped around the sleeves of his tunic a little tighter than necessary. The prince didn't seem to notice nor mind, which the princess was thankful for.
Badriya was afraid. It had been an eternity since she turned Kareem and Bilqis away, when she accepted the fact that she was never going to escape the Sultan's wish. Since then, she had the best time for someone who was imprisoned in her mind. Ayaz was the man she never thought she wished to be with. He was gentle and amusing in his own way. He didn't force her to do anything she didn't want, and there wasn't a single instance when he got angry at something-however trivial it was-that he didn't apologize right after. It was all well for the two of them, and Badriya couldn't ask for more.
But then she began to truly see the cracks in the illusion.
At first it was just Ayaz's memory lapses, which Badriya didn't mind at first, but then came her own lapses: the nightmares.
Nightmares of her past would come and haunt her almost every time she and Ayaz did something together. She'd experience her worst memories all over again-the disappearance of her mother, the falling out with her father, even her confrontation with the Sultan. Then night would turn into day and Ayaz would always be waiting for her in the palace with a smile on his face. She'd always be shaken after her nightmares, and although clueless about her dilemma, Ayaz would make her feel better each time.
