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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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Tower of Wessam Castle – 6th November 2015
"UH OH, DID I JUST kill him?" Malika said, gripping the frying pan like a treasured weapon.
She has not ponder upon the fact that the force she would apply to hit the intruder would result into unconsciousness or immediate death. Approaching him, she dabbed the handle of the pan into his cheek but to no avail. She tried it on his nose and then arm.
Zzzz
The low snore coming from his mouth put her at ease. At least there is no blood on her hands. She hung the frying pan back in the kitchen and placed a hand below the holder of the candle. She hissed when the dripping wax almost touched her delicate finger. Light is never enough inside the tower even during day time and since there is a power cut, it's worse. She bent where the flames of the candle brightened his face.
"Well you are something else," escaped from her lips.
Yet as someone who is not fascinated by physical beauty one big example being the freaking Prince Charming of her country, realization struck her harder than a truck.
"There is another person in the tower with me," she said and this time laughed until tears of happiness found its way in her green moss colored eyes. She sniffed, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
The day and night prayers have been answered. She started a victory dance in the room by twirling and twirling around until her feet stopped next to his head.
The moment she had seen him enter from the window, one word chimed through her mind; thief even though he looked too handsome to be one. Good thing Malika does not judge a book by its cover because no decent man will ever enter a tower through its window. She noted a fundamental point.
Taking all the time in the world to put a pause on the recent happiness, Malika with a little struggle removed his leather bag and rushed to dump all the contents on her bed. A diamond necklace gained all the attention; hard to break, strong yet fragile, like the man she has rendered unconscious.
"Oh. So he is a thief," she mumbled, holding the heavy ornament in her hands.
The yellow flicker illuminated all the edges gripping focus from all sides. Malika can't help admiring the beauty. This is the first time she is holding a necklace of carats she hasn't even dreamt of.
Standing in front of the rectangular floor mirror, she placed it on her neck. One piece of jewelry and she looked different like royalty. Her brother had once told her as a joke, 'you are not ugly; you are just poor.' That statement weighed fifty-fifty for some reason. Even though she has always been regarded as someone who is beautiful enough to land herself any spouse, this situation sang a different tune.
Greed and jealousy gleamed as her eyes darted from the necklace to the now heavy snoring man. "No Malika, this isn't yours. Stealing from a thief is still theft."
