𝐂𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐲 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬

Chapter 18

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"She was the calm before the storm, the stillness in a sea of chaos, holding peace in her eyes and fire in her heart."

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After dinner, Aamirah lingered in the hallway outside Osman’s study. The soft glow from the room seeped out into the dark corridor, casting a long shadow where she stood, her heart racing.

The hope that had sparked earlier at the dinner table, after he’d granted her permission to visit her parents, had grown into something bolder, something she wasn’t used to feeling—courage.

Maybe, just maybe, if she asked him about continuing her studies, there would be a sliver of mercy left to grant her that as well.

But doubt gnawed at her. The memory of Osman’s grandmother still stung, her cold refusal echoing in Aamirah’s mind. Why would Osman be any different? He hadn’t married her to look after her dreams and ambitions.

He had married her to look after his son, to fulfill a role within his carefully structured world. Still, the hope lingered, refusing to be snuffed out.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door and, after a moment of silence, heard his deep voice inviting her in. She entered the study, her steps hesitant, the air thick with the scent of wood and leather.

Osman sat behind his large oak desk, his back straight, his posture as regal and imposing as ever. Papers were scattered in front of him, but his dark eyes lifted as soon as she stepped inside.

They met hers briefly, then shifted back to the documents he had been reading, as if her presence wasn’t worth the full weight of his attention.

Her heart pounded as she approached his desk, standing just a few feet away. She couldn’t help but feel small in the vastness of the room, with its towering shelves of books and the heavy atmosphere that seemed to cling to the air.

“Is there something you need?” Osman asked, his voice low, detached.

Aamirah’s breath caught in her throat, the words she had rehearsed over and over suddenly failing her. She opened her mouth to speak, but it took a moment for her voice to come out, soft and almost timid. “I wanted to ask...”

Osman’s eyes flicked up from his papers, locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. He didn’t say anything, merely stared at her with that same cold expression, his silence a challenge in itself.

Her stomach twisted, but she forced herself to continue. “I-I want to continue my education. I know my role here is to look after Mohammed, and I promise you—” Her voice trembled slightly, but she steadied herself.

“I promise I’ll take utmost care of him. You won’t get a single complaint. But... it would mean so much to me if I could study, too.”

Osman’s gaze didn’t soften. If anything, his silence felt even heavier now, as though he were dissecting her every word, weighing her request with cold calculation. The room felt impossibly quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.

Aamirah stood there, her fingers nervously clutching the edge of her dress, waiting for the inevitable refusal. She knew how ridiculous it sounded—a woman in her position, in this household, asking for something as selfish as pursuing her own dreams.

After all, he didn’t marry her for love or companionship. He had married her out of necessity, to care for his son, to maintain his legacy. Her wishes didn’t matter in that equation, not really.