* Happy birthday Smajoo💕*
Voices from the sitting room alerted me. We don't usually get visitors. Actually, we don't get visitors at all. Since my brother found out what happened to me, no male human or even animal is allowed into our house. They both go out if they need to meet with friends or work colleagues. And they very rarely left me alone in the house. They took turns to make sure I stayed home. I am basically a prisoner and I hate it.
I peeked and the first thing I saw was red and green. The palace colours. My stomach did a flip.
Saddam was talking to two guards, he looks upset.
"You will come with me to the Palace at once!"
"Like hell I will! What does he want from us?"
" you will be informed once we get to the emir's court. We go at once!"
"I am not leaving this house with any of you! Much less going to the palace"
"Refusing the emir is treason young man" the other guard said quietly. He was a tad wrinkly, tired.
"Your emir can kiss my- No. I'm not going! "
"What is going on?" I ask meekly, making my presence known.
"We are going to the palace. The emir has requested for your brothers" my heart sunk further. He is going to kill them and no one will question him. I felt faint instantly.
"Hey! Calm down" Saddam said firmly, effectively cutting short my impending panic attack.
"You'll stay here and lock the doors. If I don't come back in two hours, call Fahad. Have him call the police " my stomach churned. I nodded, knowing not to argue with him in front of our "guests". He grabbed his keys and left with the palace guards.
THIRD PERSON'S P.O.V
The guards arrived the palace shortly after Saddam. All through the journey they tailed him at a distance, as if expecting him to make a run for it.
"The emir awaits you in the courtroom " the chief guard at the entrance of the main chambers said to Saddam. Saddam nodded, visibly tensed. He discretely wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, remembering both his encounters in the palace.
He was willing to fight for his sister with everything he had but he prayed it doesn't come to that because if it did, he knows it will be a fight he couldn't win.
The emir sat, basking in the power that came with the velvet covered throne. His big turban and shiny robe drawing attention to him.
He was murmuring to one of his advisers. Saddam's apprehension multiplied ten folds. What does this psychotic demon want from them now?
"The emir has summoned you here to declare his intentions of marrying your sister, Yasmeen " an old man on the left of the emir announced.
An icy hand of dread clutched Saddam's heart and his brain scrambled. He tried and failed to form coherent words. The man abused, beat his sister and slit his throat. What more does he want?
"Over my dead body" came a voice from the doors of the courtroom. Everyone turned to see who it was, Saddam almost got a whiplash. It was the guy that Fahad beat, bloody. The prince.
Most of his face was healed but he still had some dark bruises on his cheek and jaw.
Mubasshir looked tranquil to a scary level but his blood red eyes and clenched fists spelt out anything but calmness. Matter of fact, if he gnashed his teeth any harder, his pre molars will crack.
