Talking to the Moon ✔

One-shot | Qamar & Iqra

I had never felt this uneasy.

For someone, who was not very social or didn't have many friends, the very idea of a banquet thrown at her coming home made me feel queasy. It would have been all right if it was just the people that I knew from my  childhood. But father had gone ahead and had invited the Princes.

I fidgeted with the sleeves of my dress as I sat in my carriage. In less than an hour, I would be home. A place that I had longed to come back too. I wanted to meet my parents but most importantly, I wanted to meet my little brother. My mother had wrote  often to tell me all about his mischief. Apparently, he had taken upon himself to ensure that my parents stay busy with his shenanigans. My mother had written that the intensity of his mischief had grown thanks to his new friend too.

Prince Omar.

I took in a shaky breath and met the gaze of my warden who was staring at me knowingly. She was sitting opposite to me as the carriage wobbled on it's way to my house.

"What is it?" I asked defensively. I hated it when she did that. It was almost like she could read my mind.

"You do not need to worry, Lady Iqra." She leaned forward and took my hand in her frail ones. I stared at the wrinkled skin of her hand. I could trace her veins with my thumb. She was so old but it seemed it was only her body that was deceiving her. Her soul was still young, lively and wise.

"I do not like social gathering." I huffed like a spoilt brat and cringed inwardly at my tone. I would never behave like this in front of my parent. No, this could only be done in front of Naima.

"Your father is just happy that you are back."

I nodded and sighed leaning against the seat. I might as well get some rest in the carriage because I knew I wouldn't be getting it in the house.

"Do you think Aqib has grown taller than me?" I asked after a while of silence.

"It could be," Naima replied, "I want to see that boy. It has been years. I only saw him when he was little. The letters that he has sent you overtime are so lovely. I have kept them all safe here."

She rummaged through a small bag and took out a bundle of papers neatly tied up with a ribbon. She handed me the letters carefully as if they were some precious treasure. I straightened my back as I untied the ribbon, smiling to myself as I recognised the first letter. It wasn't actually a letter but a drawing -- this was when I had left our home for the first time. He had been six or seven and I had been twelve. He had sketched our entire family with charcoal and had begged me not to forget him. He had been so little. It had been horrible leaving him.

Had he changed? Would he remember this the way I did? A tear leaked from the corner of my eye.

"Hush dear." Naima smiled, "You are finally going home."

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I sat nervously with my hands neatly placed on my lap. I could feel my heart beating against my rib. I was all alone in the carriage. Naima had gone ahead to inform my parents of our arrival; my father would escort me back to our home. Hopefully, my brother would come too.

"There you are!" I let out a loud yelp as a face popped in the carriage grinning at me. I stared wide-eyed at the handsome face.

"Aqib?" I whispered in disbelief. My ugly brother had turned out to be actually handsome!

Aqib grinned as he climbed into the carriage and sat opposite to me, "Yes."

I slapped my thigh in annoyance, "You are taller than me!"

Aqib grins turned wide, "I told you. You didn't believe me."

"How many hearts have you broken?" I asked smirking at him.

"None." Aqib said smiling mischeviously, "But I have my eyes set on this girl."

I leaned towards him eagerly, "Tell me all about her."

But before he could open his mouth, another face popped inside the carriage. I narrowed my eyes at the boy with curly hair that covered half of his face.

"Your father is here," The boy said not even looking at me, "Run."

"Okay," Aqib grabbed my hand and kissed it, "I need to go. Abba had given me some chores." He jumped from the carriage and was about to run. I grabbed his hand and he turned.

"Who is he?" I asked.

Aqib smirked knowing that I was dreading the answer, "He is the Prince, of course."

I sat there stunned. He didn't look like a Prince. In fact, he looked like an ordinary boy playing around with Aqib. He looked younger than Aqib too despite them being the same age. I had expected him to be clad in princely clothes and have a lavish air about him. It was strange to see the Prince be so normal.

But one thing the Prince was right about, my father had come. I could hear him and throwing all lady-like behaviour in the air, I leaped from the carriage and ran to my father's arm. He wrapped his hand around me and I placed my head on his chest.

"Baba," I said closing my eyes.

"Ah dear child!" My father cooed like I was a small baby. I smiled against his chest as tears threatened to fall.

I pulled away from his embrace and sniffled. My father smiled with pride evident in his eyes, "I was just telling the Prince about you when Naima entered. He was interested in meeting you."

Prince? I froze.

I slowly turned my gaze to my father's left and my breath hitched. Standing beside him was a man, only a year older than me. He was dressed in the lavish clothes that I had expected a Prince to wear. But what made it difficult to breath was his eyes. They were mesmerisingly grey!

He seemed to be taken aback by me too and I didn't know whether it was by disgust or simple surprise. But he was first to regain his composure.

"Your father has been telling me many great things, my lady." The Prince said pleasantly.

"Abba tends to exaggerate sometimes," My mouth seemed to have a mind of it's own.

The Prince's mouth turned into an amused smile, "Nothing seems to be exaggerated."

I raised an eyebrow at him in response and turned towards my father who was chuckling lightly at our conversation. Ignoring the Prince, I said,

"Where is Amma?"

"She is inside attending other guests." My father waved his enormous hand, "Come, come! You must be tired."

Then he turned towards the Prince who was still watching me curiously, "Come, my lord."

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