[Featured on Classic Authors]
"Oh, darling. You can't fix yourself by breaking someone else."
Every young woman wants to marry Aryan Sheikh, the young, handsome Prince and a self-made businessman. His eyes are set on Yasmin Omer, the girl who has re...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Wessam Castle –18th August 2018
TWO WEEKS INTO becoming the Queen, Marissa missed having fun.
Flogging Aryan, making an uncle stand in the sun for hours, releasing fifty cockroaches into the servant quarters, and forcing a younger cousin to sleep outside were creative punishments. She had a good time.
Yet her brain required more dopamine. She needed fun – gangster style.
Zaeem and she has been showing their faces at public schools, hospitals, and orphanages over the past week. The people love their new King and Queen. She guided herself through humility and kindness in front of others.
On returning home, her mood would become sour.
This is not her. This is not what she does. Pretense is not long-time effective.
"I'm exhausted. I have no idea how Zaeem is handling this," she complained to Marcos one night.
"With great power comes great responsibility, my Queen."
"Oh, shut up, don't preach comic lines to me."
Marcos smiled. "You need fun, games, and laughter."
"How"
"The old usual"
"You're serious. Can we do this here?"
"Come on, Marissa. Nobody except us is aware of what goes on behind the castle's door."
"You're right. All those people at the coronation wouldn't dare open their mouths. I'm already establishing a good reputation in the public eye by hanging out and talking about kindness, humility, courage, etc."
"Give me a few days to prepare everything."
Thus, on a bright Saturday, Marissa woke up with glowing skin. She is looking forward to some usual fun activities. Dressed in an olive green tank top, black jeans, and boots, she went to the kitchen. Grabbing a latte, she exited the castle.
The men busied with setting up everything while her blood relatives watched in awe. They paced the castle in their white uniforms as they haven't received instructions yet.
Marissa headed for the pop-up canopy tents. Marcos hugged her and explained their various rifles and guns on the table.
"It's a whole shopping mall in the armory. Check this revolver, US, civil war era. How does the royal family of Athador get their hands on this? If you possess a certain amount of money in your bank account, then you can own a gun in Athador. Most middle-class people wouldn't attain this goal even if they live and work till eighty years old."
"Yep, they are not as innocent as they presumed to be. Where is my husband, by the way?"
