Bitter-Sweet Fairy Tales

The Princess Who Never Smiled

Bitter Sweet Fairy Tales

All Rights Reserved

©2018 Katheryne N., Nievana J.

***

"Don't play his game. Play yours." - Rachel Caine, Fall of Night

***

Once upon a time, in the heart of Kabul, there lived a young woman named Shandana. She was a simple woman, very kind and courteous to all who knew her. But there was something about her that left everyone in the city confused: since she had gotten married, she never smile. She was young, not a day over thirty, and had married her husband Ashar when she was just eighteen. Before she got married, she was a joyous and fun-loving girl who was always smiling and laughing. But since that fateful day twelve years ago she hadn't smiled once.

What made matters stranger was that she lived a luxurious life. Her husband was a corporate sales manager who made more than enough money to pay for a full scale wedding fifty times. They had an enormous house in the city with maids, servants, and butlers at their every call. They wore the finest clothes made by the most exquisite and  most expensive designers South Asia and the Middle East had to offer.

But still, nothing made Shandana smile. And it left everyone puzzled.

Everyone, except Ashar.

***

"I'm going out," Ashar said to Shandana in Dari as he put his shoes on. This was a normal day for them. Ashar would leave right after dinner and not come back until much later. And drunk.

"Again?" she replied and Ashar sent her a glare.

"What gives you the right to question me?" he asked walking towards her in the most frightful way he could. Shandana gulped and lowered her head.

"Sorry," she meekly said before walking towards their living room. She heard the front door slam and she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Ashar was not the man everyone thought he was. Oh no, he was much less than what he seemed. He was a man of wealth and status, no denying that. But Ashar led a secret life that consisted of shisha, wine, and nightly visits to the local brothel.

What made matters worse was that Shandana knew everything. She knew her husband was an alcoholic. She knew her husband was cheating on her. And yet she still remained with him for the last twelve years. Because who would respect a thirty-year-old divorcee in her world?

As she laid on the floor of her living room sobbing she heard her stomach growl. She hadn't been eating properly for the last few years and her sleep routine was going in a downward spiral. Her health was deteriorating but she didn't really care anymore.

She got up and walked to the kitchen for something to munch on. She noticed that the housekeeper had made some kebabs and left them on the dining table to cool down. Shandana picked one up and began to eat it. Almost immediately after finishing it, she felt nauseous and ran to the bathroom to vomit. This was common for her. Not because she wasn't hungry but because so didn't eat often at all. So much so that even the slightest smell of food would make her sick.

Four hours had passed and it was now almost two o'clock in the morning. Shandana was falling in and out of sleep but was determined to make sure that Ashar returned home, not because she loved, because that's what a dutiful wife does.

But when he walked in at about quarter passed two, she regretted staying so dutiful.

In Ashar walked, loudly and drunk, with a woman dressed in a skimpy belly-dancing costume and a smug smile on her face.