Prince of Knights (An Arabic Love Story)✓

Prince of Knights Chp20

Salam alikum ladies and fellas. How are y'all? Hope you guys will like and enjoy this chapter.

Pic of the man who resembles Faris A LOT! However, you guys are free to imagine him as you please.

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~*The wound is the place where the Light enters you~* Rumi

Days passed in immense despair and absolute torment. Faris remained hushed, not speaking and Raghad gradually adopted to aid her mother-in-law with house tasks. As much as she feared Faris, Nasser annihilated every ounce of courage in her. He was gigantic and she could swear there were times the man bend his head low in order to walk in their 'house'. His mere sight generated terror in her heart. Raghad would not enter the room if Nasser was present, she would stay out of sight until the man departed. With a giant of a man in the house and Faris's callous glares and hushed treatment, the poor girl believed she will be demented soon!

Raghad could not eat no matter how hard she attempted to, her appetite had died with her smile. Badr, her knight, her dearest brother had departed for his tribe a few days ago. Which caused her to stay up at night and blink in the darkness. No, not to weep, but to stare in the darkness and wait for something to occur, to shield her and take her away from this prison.

Afternoon sun propelled the clouds and stared at Raghad. She waited patently as women took their turn to fill their buckets with water from the well. Raghad stood there, behind a petite woman, who huffed as she turned the wheel of the well. The bride was dressed in a dark Iranian gown that brushed the sand, her hair veiled with a black shawl, without rings to decorate her lean fingers, or a smile that teased her lips.

Raghad took a step backwards when the woman lifted both buckets and marched away, rather gracefully. Her soulless eyes stared at the well, then she lowered the bucket tied with a rope in the well. Raghad wrapped her fingers around the windlass and rotated it. Her breath quickened when the bucket retrieved to the surface brimming with cool water. She grabbed it then poured the water in the bucket next to her feet.

In a trice, Raghad let go of the bucket and leaned on the wall of the well as a wave of vertigo took over her form. She had not tasted food from over a night, her throat was parched and head heavy. Once again the poor soul stood up on her shaky feet, however, suddenly her eyes rolled back and body swayed in the air. Women by the well rushed to her aid, some seized her shoulders, while others took hold of her water buckets.

"Binti, can you hear me?" inquired a gentle voice, the same person placed their warm palm on her forehead and a whimper escaped her lips.

Raghad swallowed the bile in her throat and urged the lid of her eyes to open. "Yes, khalty." her voice was scarcely a whisper.

"Come, let me take you home." pronounced the same familiar voice.

Raghad shut her eyes when the rays of the sun were unbearable for her. She was parched and was in a desperate need of water, her body was warm despite the frosty winter that encased the world in it's cold robe around her. Raghad did not realize how she made her way in the house. When she could perceive the world around her, Raghad discerned that she was in her chamber with her back against the cot, and a quilt on her.