13th century- The Middle East.
Her land lays barren as the enemy stand at the doorway of her home.
A choice to be made.
Marriage or War.
Being the only daughter of the sheikh of Al-Shujae, Laila has been shielded her whole life from anything whi...
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Chapter 3
The Bride
He looked nowhere but within her dark orbs, engulfing her with an emotion she could not recognise. Eyes are the windows to the soul. A secret place. Yet he intruded. Marking his position at her very core.
How could he be a nightmare? When she was floating in her dreams.
Laila opened her eyes, gasping as the last images of him faded from her mind.
A night which should have been spent in anguish was instead blissful, she almost felt ashamed. How dare he disrupt my sleep?
The sun had yet to rise, dawn just approaching as the call to prayer was heard across the small tribe.
It was serene at this time, only those in desperation were awake to pray before the usual congregational prayers. Laila could not help herself from joining them, imploring for forgiveness, pleading for a way out.
Fate was inevitable, only prayer had the power to change it.
The door suddenly opened as the first light of day shone in her room. Her father meekly walked in, holding a troubled look on his face.
"Baba." Laila quickly approached, embracing him as he returned her affection. His hold was weak.
She had not noticed how frail her father had become.
"Forgive me sweet child," he whispered, stroking Laila's wavy hair. She felt her throat tighten, overcome with emotion whilst holding in a small cry.
"Why are you apologising?" Scarcely managing to speak, Laila found herself suddenly soaking her father's clothes with tears.
"How could I begin to apologise?" He stepped back, taking hold of her shoulders. His swollen eyes stared back at hers.
"Today should have been a joyous day, but my incompetence has turned it into a tragedy." He wiped her tears, placing his hand on her cheek.
"I don't deserve your forgiveness, nor your mothers."
A woman he did not speak of, dare his eyes fill with torment again. Bounded by the curse of unconditional love.
"You are her, Laila. Through and through." He took her hand. "She was my soul, and her passing was my passing." Her father faltered, "Only, I did not see that she had left a part of her soul here, with me."
Laila froze, whilst the strongest man she knew fell apart.
"I saw it too late," he cried, mind consumed with images of his wife. He knew, she would have detested him for how he raised their only child.
Laila took his hand.
"I forgive you." She spoke purposefully, clear with every word.
"You have loved me, and that is enough." She held his hand tightly, gratitude on her face.
