Liyah's breath hitched in her throat. The sandy desert stretched for miles and miles, without end. She looked at the two in front of her with an exasperated expression etched on her face, "Tell me this gets easier."
Rayan smirked, "Careful, habibti...
This chapter is long because I may have to take a slight break due to university that starts next week :(
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Chapter 19 | Alf Leyla Wa Leyla I the night and the sky, and it's stars and it's moon
RAYAN CHUCKED ANOTHER LOG OF WOOD INTO THE FIRE. The tangerine sparks shot up and quickly fizzled away, much like his chances with the sea-foam eyed princess. He let out another frustrated grunt as he waited for Liyah's signal.
Something had caused the girl's mood to shift. Her miniature claws had unsheathed themselves and were ready to attack anyone– Rayan, in particular. He could sense it. The General nearly fainted at the plan that she had conjured up. Her great, strategic plan was for the princess to occupy Rahim, while Rayan found a way to distract the horsemen. That would create a long enough diversion for her to slip into the Sheikh's tent of treasures and artifacts.
All of that for some mysterious book of tales.
The General was clearly livid. He shook is his in aggravation as his mind raced back to the wretched celebrations. The moment that Rahim had entered the tent of festivities, Farrah's eyes never left him. She was pulled towards the dazzling man like a snake was to a charmer with a green shemagh and a teasing hand. Rayan had long walked off, not wanting to witness the love of his life being whisked away by the sheikh's curly-haired son.
With her eyes freshly lined with the deep, obsidian-black kohl, Farrah set her oceanic, sea-green orbs on the dimpled boy and sauntered towards him. Once she had fully hypnotized Rahim with her slow-burning twirls and shaking hips, she turned around and sent Liyah a wink.
Liyah held her breath and hastily slipped into the darkness of the night. The echoing thumps of the darbuka and the oud strings began to soften as she sprinted in between the wooden skeletons draped in animal skins. When she spotted the glowing, orange flames of the fire, she halted her motion. Liyah clicked her fingers, causing Rayan's head to snap upwards. The General followed the girl's patterned hand as she pointed her thumb towards the stars.
The signal.
She then retreated back into the shadows of the mekaadrabiaa and patiently waited for Rayan to send the horsemen off. He untied the cloth, covering his soft, raven strands and flattened the fly-aways. The girl watched curiously as he then waltzed over to the tent, behind Sheikh Imran's, and hunched his back to pick up a dark, murky bottle. She squinted her eyes as she attempted to read what was carved into the cola-colored glass.
Rayan flicked the lid of the bottle of arak and dragged it along with him as he strolled towards the guards. The men, who were clad in their signature, nomadic shemaghs, eyed the boy with great confusion. Rayan cleared his throat, before plastering a wolffish grin on his lips, "ya Ali," he patted the shortest and most timid-looking guard on his back, "The night is young, habibi. Why don't you enjoy the celebrations?"
