My Emir ✅

Chapter 30- Glad tidings

As if a long-term sentence in jail wasn't enough, Sa'eed had to deal with the tantrums his father threw at him every day, regarding his failure. As if he wasn't the epitome of failure himself. In this case, who had failed to raise his son well? Those were the times he regretted ever going after Zayn because almost everything he had done to Zayn was for the sake of his father. Now that father of his is the reason for his downfall.

Today, his father had crossed every single boundary, and he, Sa'eed did the same too__ or maybe, worse. He stared at his hands which were stained with his father's blood. His father was well deserving of any sort of pain he was going through. He crouched low in front of a short standpipe that was surrounded by overgrown weeds and spirogyra. He rid his hands of the blood under the running tap at was situated at the far end of a field they were assigned to work on. He then made his way toward where the rest of his inmates were working, pushing the bloodied image of his father to the far end of his mind.

Yes, he was heartless, and according to him, no one should have a problem with that, because no one was available to kindle the mishandled flick of flame that represented the little good he had in him. There's nothing left of it now. Something similar to Hassan.
Wise men say that; birds of the same feathers flock together. That's unarguably the truth.
At that moment, he looked forward to getting out of that excuse of an abode called jail. He'll do whatever it takes. There's no way on earth he was going to submit to a pathetic system.

*~*

Just like most mornings, the royal family was seated for breakfast in the dining hall of the Sultan's residence. Not the whole family per se, but about ten of them who felt like eating together as a family. Sultan himself wasn't present at the gathering. He had something important to take care of.
They were seated at a long rectangular table, ladened with an assortment of dishes that made up a perfect Hausa breakfast. Nothing can ever beat that.
As usual, Hamza Malik was seated beside his wife, his gaze trained on his tablet, where he read the daily news. He wasn't bothered by the light conversions held by the women.

" Mariya, have you been able to reach Zayn?" Mama Aisha asked her younger daughter-in-law, who had barely eaten anything from her plate.

" No," Mariya responded. Her voice was void of its usual enthusiasm. " I've been trying since morning. I'm sure the problem is rooting from his end."

Emraan shared a knowing look with Yasmeen before shifting his attention back to his food.

" I'm sure it is." Sultan's older sister added. "I just hope he's doing well."

For hours, Zayn's foreign line has been unreachable and it bothered Mariya so much. She hoped earnestly that he wasn't in some sort of trouble. She heaved out a loud sigh, her gaze trained on a jug that was filled with the creamy goodness of kunun aya. She couldn't help the craving that was building up in her. She yearned to grace her taste buds with the creamy drink. It wasn't her fault, to begin with, her baby is to be blamed. She was doing a good job of hiding its existence until Zayn's arrival. The jug though, was quite out of her reach.

" Noora," She called out to one of Zayn's cousins. They weren't the best of acquaintances but that wouldn't stop her from asking for a favour. Besides, she was the closest to the jug. "Dan Allah, pass me the kunun aya." Mariya requested politely.

Noora on the other hand, raised her gaze to Mariya who stared back at her with a small smile on her face. She scoffed. It would be hard for her to accept Mariya as part of the family. She dropped her fork on the ceramic plate she was eating from, and the clinking noise shifted all eyes toward her direction. She hissed loudly at Mariya.
" The whore has got the guts to order me around. Next, you'll ask Sultan to bring you coffee while you rest at the terrace, koh?"
She must have spotted Mariya having coffee with Sultan at the terrace on one of the many occasions.