Fickle

Chapter 35

The royal jet touched down at the Daura military airbase under the cover of twilight. The air was heavy with tension, the weight of the kingdom's instability palpable even from the runway. Abdullah stepped out, dressed in a traditional white kaftan embroidered with gold trim, his demeanor composed but purposeful. Beside him stood General Mustapha, who had accompanied him on the flight, briefing him on the latest developments during their journey.

Awaiting them were Othman and a small contingent of loyal guards. Othman’s relief was evident as he embraced his brother, though his expression quickly shifted to concern.

"You shouldn't have stayed away this long, Abdullah," Othman murmured, his voice low but firm.

Abdullah nodded, his jaw tightening. "I know. But I’m here now. Let’s ensure the kingdom remains ours."

Returning to the palace was like stepping into a battlefield cloaked in luxury. Every corridor seemed to hum with hidden agendas, every glance carrying layers of meaning. The staff bowed as Abdullah walked through, but there was an unmistakable tension in their movements.

Once inside the family wing, Othman wasted no time. He led Abdullah and Mustapha into a private chamber, where Ruqayyah awaited them. She stood nervously, wringing her hands, her face pale.

"Ruqayyah," Abdullah greeted her, his voice calm but commanding. "You’ve risked much to send us intelligence. Tell me everything you know."

She hesitated, casting a glance at Othman for reassurance before speaking. "Hanifah has been meeting secretly with key members of the council. She’s manipulating them, using their ambitions to weaken your position. But she’s also working with Neil."

Abdullah’s eyes darkened at the mention of Neil. "What does he have to gain from this?"

Ruqayyah hesitated again before answering. "I don’t know the full extent, but he’s been funneling funds into businesses linked to Hanifah. They’re building a power base, one that could rival the throne itself."

General Mustapha stepped forward, his voice sharp. "We’ve confirmed movements of armed groups near the borders. It’s no longer just political maneuvering. They’re preparing for something bigger."

Abdullah leaned back in his chair, absorbing the information. Othman spoke up, his tone urgent.

"We need to act fast. The council is divided, and Hanifah is exploiting their doubts about your leadership. If we let this continue, the kingdom could fracture."

Abdullah nodded, his mind racing. "What’s our immediate priority?"

Mustapha replied without hesitation. "Solidify your authority within the council. Show strength, but also be strategic. We can’t afford open conflict—not yet."

Abdullah turned to Ruqayyah. "Your role is critical. Stay close to Hanifah but remain cautious. Anything you hear, no matter how small, could be the key to dismantling her plans."

Ruqayyah nodded, though her fear was evident. "I’ll do my best, Your Royal Highness."

The following morning, Abdullah entered the grand council chamber, his presence commanding immediate attention. The council members stood, bowing respectfully, though some of their faces betrayed unease. Hanifah was conspicuously absent, which only deepened Abdullah’s suspicions.

He took his seat at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I’ve returned because I believe in the strength and unity of Daura. But I also know there are forces working against us, seeking to divide and weaken this kingdom."

A murmur ran through the room, but Abdullah continued. "Let me be clear: I will not tolerate betrayal. Those who stand against the throne will face consequences."