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"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...
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Wessam Castle – 1st September 2018
DARK CLOUDS DRFITED over the castle.
A strong breeze hollered through the trees. The green leaves trembled. The fragile flowers bent on its caress.
The Queen of Athador crossed her black-sleeved arms beneath her chest. Her dark hair flapped against her face. She stood on the limestone terrace with five of her goons, overlooking the castle's servants.
They shivered. Some stood closer to each other. Tired, grumpy, dirty, their wrinkles or pimples without any makeup to hide on full display.
They waited for her command except for one who stood tall, glaring at her.
Marissa tightened her lips. His defiance yet obedience is getting on her nerve day by day.
Her husband joined her side at last. In her mind, she saluted him for wearing this short-sleeved T-shirt on this cold and gloomy afternoon. He raised his eyebrows at her, initiating her to speak.
"How many of you would like to regain your old life?"
The question sparked everyone's interest. They stood firmer, glancing at each other with a lost spark returning to their eyes. Marissa smiled. Hope is what makes the shitty present bearable.
Her younger male cousins lifted their hands first. As expected, the aunts and uncles followed. Aryan raised his hand last.
"I have a challenge where there will be one winner."
"I'll do it," a younger cousin responded.
The others agreed likewise without even knowing the challenge.
Smiling, Marissa said, "Follow me."
Marcos took the lead. Marissa and Zaeem walked next followed by three bodyguards. Wind bustled through the branches, dropping the leaves on their heads.
The royal servants chattered amongst themselves. Each one of them is curious about this upcoming contest. Maybe their eagerness has exposed their desperation.
The rain would fall at any given moment. No one cared. The trees continued their protest against the wind. Stepping into a clearing by thorn bushes, Marissa and the important ones took the platform.
After everyone settled in irregular lines in her sightline, she challenged.
"On your right is thorn bushes. It's almost like a maze when you look at it from a high window in the castle. Amidst this maze is a beautiful lavender plant. Whoever can get me a bouquet of that lavender gets their old life back."
"Do we get to live like we used to," an aunt asked.
"Yes, you get your clothes, jewelry, shoes, whichever car you'd prefer. You get all your luxury back."
