The Imperial Dynasty

P r o l o g u e

In all her winters, she has never been as vigilant as tonight. She looks gorgeous, her face shining like a star in the darkest of nights. Her satin gown, an alluring shade of gold, hugged the most appropriate of areas and was let loosely to dangle just above her ankles. Her viridian headscarf has been designated beautifully; pinned and tied to perfection, displaying the slightest bit of her light bronze neck. Inhaling in the scent of her ittar (musk), she lightly smirked to herself. All great ideas are dangerous, she consoled herself. 

As she descended down the steps, it was like all other activity was supplementary when all eyes turned to gawk at the beauty treading down the stairs. Silence. Only the sound of her clicking shoes. She had stolen the whole room the moment her aura felt present to those surrounding. People bowed and greeted frantically immediately upon the second she had stepped her heel onto the ballroom floor.

''Your Majesty,'' addresses the maid-in-waiting, before ushering her toward the mahogany tables, lined with a cuisine of luxurious looking meals. It seems peculiar to her that her father establishes such effort into occasions such as these, when the price could be exercised for much more essential things. 

''I must go and greet the guests so perhaps later in the night. But thank you for your concern anyhow.'' The princess replied. The maid-in-waiting nodded obediently in response as she scurried away. Her majesty began glancing around in anticipation. They have not yet arrived, she thought.

''My daughter,'' A strong voice sounded behind her. She turns around, smiling at the king. 

''Father,'' she retorts ''This is all quite well.''

''Of course, Elhaida. You know I must show the best of our accommodation.'' The king says, glancing around the room in gesture. ''Well, I must give my salaam (greetings) to our newest guests. You must do so as well.''

''Of course, Abi (father),'' Elhaida added whilst watching her father walk away. She studies the giant doors she was standing a few metres away from, keeping her eyes on them, as if a beast was bound to strut in at any given moment. In only a matter of seconds, she feels a strong gust of cold wind, the scent of perfume hitting her nose first thing. The door was pushed open as more extravagantly dressed people walked in. Among them was a man. A man of such alluring composure that she could feel it as she began walking toward him: her heart thumped against her chest and her breathing went slightly irregular. His back is toward her, and she considers slicing him open with the dagger attached to the thigh strap underneath the folds of her gown. But she couldn't. Not now. She needed more opportunity of precision. 

''Assalamualaikum (Peace be upon you),'' She raised her voice. The man turns around, his shoes tapping against the marble floor and Elhaida glares at the familiar face, furrowing her eyebrows. His grey eyes, like the moon, an indication of beauty but only in the depths of darkness. They bore into her soul as he looked right back at her with matched intensity.

''Walaikumasalam (Peace be upon you too). I dare say, I am flattered at how quickly you had noticed my arrival.'' The guest responds.

''Ah yes. You do seem to enjoy flattering yourself, Azar,'' Elhaida snaps back. Azar bends his head down before letting out a low chuckle, which was then followed by an arrogant smirk curving his lips. Out of nowhere, he takes long strides and disappears behind the towering doors. 

The coward. But whatever he is doing, I cannot afford to lose him now, she thinks. The princess dashes after him, before feeling a large hand pull her into the empty hallway. She felt her back smash into the wall and cold metal pressed against her neck. 

''It seems you were too cowardly to initiate my demise in the ballroom,'' Says Elhaida, a knowing smile playing upon her lips.

''No. I just wished to be the only one to hear your dying words. And sorry I did not get the chance to mention earlier, but you look quite ravishing tonight, Amira (Princess). Especially your Hijab.'' Azar whispers, almost seductively, whilst pressing the knife harder against her neck. 

''I wish I could say the same for you, Malik (Ruler/prince),'' She smartly reciprocates, before wrapping a confident arm around his neck and this time pushing him against the wall, so their positions were switched. The future queen took no time taking out her own dagger from her thigh strap and pressing it against his neck. The sudden movements made Azar's once perfectly styled hair, now a mess of dark curls. They both take a moment to let their eyes wander over each other, both holding a predatorial gaze. 

She wanted to slice his neck just then but the smart bastard still had a hold on his own dagger, still pressed against her. If she ended him then, she most likely would die as well, and her self worth was too much to even consider risking her own life to end this man's. 

''As much as I wish to kill you right now, it seems too easy. For both of us. I hope for the moment I finally slaughter you to be the most entertaining occasion in my life so I would rather wait...'' she starts 

''Are you sure? Or are you afraid that the cost of my murder will also be your own?'' He chortles before drawing blood from her neck, the crimson liquid spilling down the front of her dress.

''No. It is just that my father always taught me that I should take pride in my investments. I take that as a means of not making haste in such.'' Elhaida defends

''I believe we have found something we can agree on. A shocking revelation, darling,'' Azar whispers dangerously into her ear.

''I believe we have,''

Disclaimer: Although this contains characters which follow the religion of Islam, they are not role models of how and what Islam is. This is a work of fiction only. Also, this is not limited to a certain audience and can be read by anyone (any religion, ethnicity, etc.)