chapter fourteen

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Whilst he devoured the sight of her, he noticed a man staring at Parisa through the corner of his eye. Once they finished their tea, they said goodbye to Baba Esmat and began to walk away.

"Don't look behind you, but there is a man following us," Arman informed Parisa. She suddenly felt her heart jump out of her chest as she avoided looking behind her. They quickly fastened their pace walking towards the exit of the bazaar.

Suddenly, a man grabbed a hold of Parisa's wrist pulling her away from Arman's grasp. The man had a deadly stare in his eyes. But Parisa yanked her hand away from his, running towards Arman. Arman grabbed his sword, slicing it through the air, threatening the man.

"Give us all your money!" the man commanded Arman. Deep in her heart, she knew this wasn't going to end well. She knew the man wasn't going to live a day after the command he gave Arman. Another man joined him, looking at Parisa in an uncomfortable way. He stared at her cleavage with thirst, but once Arman noticed it, he stood in front of Parisa, keeping her safe.

"You have no idea who you are talking to," Arman yelled. Parisa had never seen him yell in such way. She quickly scanned the people around her and once she saw a man with a sword, she ran up to him stealing his sword. And now with a sword embedded in her palm she stood beside Arman ready to fight back. Somewhere within him, he felt proud of her. He felt proud to have such a strong woman beside him. A smile of triumph appeared on his face as he faced the men again. One man laughed as he saw Parisa with a sword. What an unexpected sight.

With anger, Parisa sliced her sword towards the man who was staring at her before. With one motion, she chopped two of his fingers off. A scream was released into the atmosphere. But without a second to waste, Arman grabbed Parisa and ran through the busy streets of town. The men ran after them in vengeance. When Parisa found a small hole opening in the wall, she pulled him into the hole hiding from the men. Silently, they stood in front of each other, with their bodies touching harmoniously. Hand in hand, Arman was towering over Parisa who could feel his breathing on her chest.

He moved his head closer to her neck, unable to resist her touch. She was intoxicated by the feel of his arms around her, his lips on her neck, and his scent filling her nose. He felt warm and familiar. Solid and safe. And all she wanted in that moment was to grab the collar of his shirt and bury her face into his shoulder. And in that moment, they were utterly intoxicated by each other.

A wrong part of her desired him. She longed to feel his lips on her neck, his fingers tracing her bit of her skin with a deafening touch. A touch so electric. She shouldn't have been wanting such thing. She should have been thinking of his as a monster and nothing more. Everything about this moment was wrong. So wrongly right.

And then it happened. In seconds his lips were on hers. So especially right. He could feel the electricity flow through him. He placed his hands around her back in all the right places. She then held onto him, linking her hands around his neck, devouring every wrong second that went by.

Suddenly, the men found them and that's when they let go of each other running as fast as they could through the busy bazaar. And that's when the men lost them through the crowd. They both finally looked at each other letting out a held in laughter. Their laughter's filled the atmosphere, washing every sorrow away. An adventure so bright filled their hearts.

They safely made it back to the palace, not daring to mention the kiss between them. A kiss so powerful and pure. A feeling so desirable. A warzone. They craved each other in every wrong way. But in this moment, Parisa had completely forgotten about Afshin. The man she had loved for years. Was it possible to fall out of love with someone?

Arman dropped Parisa off at her chamber so she could get ready for the party. He left with nothing but a smile and a thank you. A word so calm. A word so soothing. The only word she needed to hear. She carefully closed the door behind her, leaning on the door as she slid down onto the ground. When she turned her head, she saw Azin sitting on her bed with the biggest smirk painted on her face.

"Sooo," she said extending the word, "what's got you in a good mood?" she asked with curiosity. But she knew it all. She knew it from the small hickey on Parisa's neck. She knew from the expression Parisa had. She knew it from her swollen lips. But most importantly she knew it from the way they looked at each other.

"Nothing," Parisa replied with the same smirk, acknowledging the fact that Azin knew everything. The two girls laughed as they made their way to the bathroom.

After all, only a monster could understand a monster.



Afshin and Emir had finally made their way to the huge capital. News about the year's biggest party filled the atmosphere. Both Afshin and Emir were dressed in a military high rank outfit ready to attend the party. All Afshin could hear from the crowds in the city was Parisa. The girl who volunteered to marry a murderer only to fall in love with him.

Women, men and children were making they're to the city centre to meet the merchants and high rank lords. News had arrived that the two other main country leaders invited to the party had arrived at the city. The people were happy, but all Afshin wanted to do was murder the Shah and save the day by saving Parisa. It was almost as if he thought of her as a damsel in distress. He knew her too well, or that's at least what he thought.

Unlike Afshin, Emir was too excited. He was flying through the people, even sightseeing at times. He was happy. He had felt like he belonged somewhere in years. He felt like home. This city was a place he could live in for the rest of his life. The smell of saffron and bread. The smell of flowers and spices. It was all a scent that smelt like home. So calming and safe.

It was nearly six o'clock when they reached the palace borders. The merchants and lords were already lined up behind their country, ready to walk in. Emir pulled Afshin towards the Ottoman section so they could line up. Nervously, Afshin fixed his collar, swallowing his fear. Slowly, the guests were invited into the palace. The palace was much bigger than Afshin had imagined it to be. A king so cruel was unworthy of such castle.

The palace interior was decorated with flowers and gold. In one room, every inch of the walls was covered in mirror. Mirrors so clean Afshin could see his intentions. Tonight, was about to be the end. The end of this cruelty, and the start of something brand new.

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