Kissed by Chaos

Kissed by Chaos (18) - Amira

 The photo does not belong to me. It was found on DeviantArt (http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?q=arabian%20girl&order=9&offset=24#/d23yfx3) It is called Arabian Night 1 by 'la-esmerelda'. All credit to the artist. The song is Secrets by One Republic.

Kissed by Chaos

Chapter 18 - Amira

Raafi stood behind Claire and Elisabeth as they tentatively knocked on Susannah’s door. He then lingered only a moment to see the three women stare at each other, unmasked awe painted across the faces of all three. The resemblance in the faces of the trio was almost impossible to miss. Elisabeth and Claire had the same angular, nose, settled gracefully between eyes that were slightly almond shaped. They held themselves proudly, yet at the same time an air of humility hung over their heads.

Elisabeth sounded breathless, as though she had run all the way to Mirzan, as she said, “Claire, that’s our mother, Susannah Browne.”

Bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement as Susannah’s stunned eyes fell across him, Raafi said simply, “I’ve brought you your daughters, Susannah. Just as you asked.” His heart swelled with a strange sense of pride as Susannah’s eyes brimmed with tears.

She pressed her fingers against her lips. “To thank you would never be enough,” she murmured in a trembling voice through her fingertips.

With a small smile, he nodded and turned around, leaving Susannah with her daughters. As Raafi walked through the shadows of the flickering flames from lamps on the walls, that strange sense of pride rose up in him once again. He did not feel proud when he stood alongside his army and stared out at the bloody battlefield stretched out below. He did not feel proud, as his father did, when a king or tribe leader dropped to their knees before the might of the Mirzan army, surrendering pitifully to their will.

Yet he had felt proud of himself, of what he had achieved when Claire had entrusted him with her life. He had felt proud when Claire had trusted him enough to place her hand in his, what felt like ages ago, as they began their journey across the sea. Raafi had felt proud when Sami had smiled at him and said he was a good man. And he had felt proud as he looked at Susannah’s awed, immensely grateful expression.

It was these little things that brought a smile to his face, yet here he stood, the flesh and blood that would someday be Mirzan’s future king. His head reeled at the thought. The terror gave rise to a cloud of nausea in his stomach. Raafi stopped walking and pressed his palms and forehead against the smooth surface of the wall. He was grateful for the cold seeping into his skin, calming him just that little bit.

Raafi found it quite strange that out there in the middle of the desert, with the wind whipping against his cheeks, he had been free of this all consuming fear of never being quite enough. Yet here, in the confines of this mighty palace, his heartbeat thudded unnaturally fast. He could not still the embarrassing tremor in his hands. Raafi wondered if it was natural for him to feel like this, to feel as though the walls were pressing in on him, closer and closer, until they would eventually shatter him into pieces.

Was it natural to feel so smothered?

As if this sudden fear that had crept up on him was not crippling enough, a dangerous name consumed his mind: King Zahir Mustafa. For a moment, it had almost, almost, escaped him that he was still banished. When Raafi had arrived home from his quest, he had told himself that he would only stay in the kingdom long enough to return Claire and Elisabeth to their mother, no longer than necessary.

He still intended to stick to that plan. It was the safest choice for everybody for him to leave as soon as possible. Technically, he was not even meant to be in the palace at all. Raafi wondered how his father would react when he eventually found out that his banished son had dared to disobey him again.