Hayat Nazar, the only daughter of Hashmet and Mariyam, was practically living her dream. She couldn't have asked ALLAH for more. She was about to marry the love of her life Ahmar Shams. Everything was going fine until the wicked, notorious and cruel...
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G I V E M E A C H A N C E
Hayat had been working really hard. She had received very less time to prepare for the ball.
She had to send out hand written invitations to the guests. Prepare a theme to select. Decorations. Food. Table arrangements and what not!
Yousef and Ali had worked along with her like real brothers, if she was being honest, she enjoyed her time with them. Leila and Bilkis assisted them too.
Ali had brought her stationery and penmanship samples. The invitations were sent out two days before the ball.
When she had disclosed the theme for the ball, Ali, Yousef and Leila were all grinning like a fool.
She had designed her own dress for the ball as well. She wanted everything to be perfect, to look astounding so that she could enjoy Altamash's grumpy old sulking face.
She hadn't seen Tayyab. He was still not aware of the fact that she knew what he secretly wrote in her lessons and Yousef had assured her that it'll remain that way.
On the day of the ball, Hayat walked by the corridor to the ballroom. She was a nervous wreck. She had to enter along with Tayyab because they were the host.
The dress she wore was a red. Every few inches, the fabric folded over itself as it moved upward, to give the shape of a rose’s overlapping petals. Leila had helped her stain the tip of each fold a black to match the fine roses found in the queen’s garden. Normally she wasn't very fond of the color red, but the queen’s roses were simply divine. She wore a hoopskirt beneath the layers of silk, but the bodice was fitted, the top had long sleeves that widened at her wrist and she wore matching bangles too.
She pinned her hair to one side, so it fell down her left shoulder, leaving her neck bare on the right side. Leila had curled the strands so they fall in perfect ringlets, a black wonder over the light fabric.
Tayyab stood before a set of massive, gilt-framed double doors three times his height. Two massively built guards stood on either side of the door guarding it from any uninvited guests.
He turned when he heard her footsteps, and Hayat’s breath was gone before she could catch it.
The linen of his black qamis was so finely spun that it reflected a faint sheen from the torches lining the corridor. Their fires gave life to the carved hollows of his features. The hilt of his sword was looped through the crimson hilt secured around his hip. His mantle was a rich brown that enhanced the amber of his eyes, making them appear even more forbidden.
She hadn't forgotten the way he had pressed his tender lips on her brows and the fireworks that had followed. She had ignored it all, shrugged it away all this while but one encounter with him had her wanting to pull her own hair out of frustration.
