His Revenge

➺Chapter Thirty-Four

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➺Chapter Thirty-Four

Aaida had never imagined that she would tell an entire stranger her life story. She omitted parts, of course, keeping out the details of her convenient marriage. Aya was an amazing listener. She didn't prod or pry and she didn't ask questions unless they were absolutely necessary. After Aaida was done, Aya did nothing except hug her tightly and hold her for a while. Aaida had never felt so weightless before. It was as if telling another woman, someone who related to her on an entirely different level, eased her burdens so.

"I met Azrael when I was a child," Aya began after Aaida had managed to compose herself. "My mother was distantly related to his and after my father died, she was given the position of head palace maid so that she could provide for me. I never had any siblings. I grew up in a little cottage behind the palace, all alone. Azrael . . . Azrael used to come there sometimes. Whenever he was upset about something. He was upset a lot." A small smile appeared on Aya's face. "I was told not to interact with him by his mother. To let him be. It was hard though. He was only a few years older than me and he always looked so sad."

"You talked to him?" Aaida expressed her curiosity.

"I did," Aya confirmed. "The first time and every time afterwards. I didn't know of the grave I was digging. I didn't know . . . I didn't know how painful it could be to love a prince. His name isn't Azrael, you know." That was news for Aaida. "It used to be Zane. After he killed his elder brothers, he gave himself that name. The Angel of Death. How befitting." There was bitterness in Aya's voice. Aaida didn't know who it was aimed at- herself for loving Azrael or Azrael for loving the throne.

Aya told her about everything. About eventually confessing to Azrael and being rejected because she was a weakness he couldn't afford. She told her about leaving the palace after Azrael claimed the throne as his own and swearing to herself that she'd never return because she'd lost the Zane in him. He was truly the Angel of Death in her eyes.

She told her about him eventually finding her.

Begging her.

Pleading with her to come back to his side.

Aya had refused.

And then Azrael had issued an order.

Concubine.

That was what he'd made out of her.

She'd given birth to his first son at sixteen. His only daughter at eighteen. His second son at twenty and his fifth child at twenty-two. A perfect two years in between each birth.

Aaida's voice had closed up in her throat yet she still managed to ask, "W-where are they?"

"At home," Aya turned her face to where Khunais slept in his plastic white crib. "There's an old woman who lives in the apartment next to mine. She's very sweet. The children call her their grandmother. She always takes care of them when I'm not there."

"Do any of them go to school?"

Aya's bottom lip trembled. "I can't afford that, milady."

"Please don't call me that." Aaida laid a hand on Aya's. "I'm only Aaida."

"I wish I had your strength," Aya released a small, defeated sigh. "You're four years younger than me yet I can't even pull myself together for my own children the way you do."