Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Altair's heart was pounding as he made his way down to his office, which the tracking app on his phone showed the princess to be. But when he entered the room, it was not Safiya he found.
A pale-looking 53 clumsily rose to her feet. "I'm so sorry," she whispered painfully. "I'm so sorry, Altair. I told her—-"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I d-didn't know it was her—-"
Even without understanding a single word she was saying, the sheikh could already feel his world starting to crash—-
"I'm sorry," 53 wept. "I'm so sorry."
Altair saw her open her hand, and he felt himself lose all color as he saw the torn strand of gold she held in her grip.
God.
He didn't need to hear anything else. Didn't need to listen to another word for his heart to know—-
God.
The sheikh's fingers shook as he reached for his phone and sent a coded message to his brothers. His heart was already telling him something his mind was desperate to refute, but still he forced himself to head to the security room. The palace being massive, it took a while before they were able to find the most recent footage showing the princess, and Altair broke into a run as soon as he realized where the princess was last seen.
His mind hurtled back to the past as his footsteps pounded the marbled tiles of the palace's vast hallways, and all he could suddenly think about was how fucking easy it had been for Mahmud to escape—-
Too, too fucking easy—-
A realization hit him then, and it almost had him staggering to a stop.
Mahmud could've escaped captivity from the very start. Altair was damn sure of it. So fucking certain, in fact, that when he thought about how Safiya herself once mentioned she had planned to escape as soon as leaving Farigha—-
She could do it if she wanted, the sheikh realized sickly, and fear nearly crushed the sheikh's windpipes as his mind grappled with the idea of living the rest of his life without her.
If she wanted to leave him, she could—-
Altair could barely breathe even as he went on to run like the fucking devil was after him.
But even so—-
His heart already knew.
And when he finally stumbled past the library doors—-
He saw that his heart was not wrong.
God.
He was too late.
She was gone, and all that she had left for him...
My beloved sheikh,
You are probably unaware of this, but my first glimpse of you was not at the royal palace, with you standing tall and proud while my father came bearing gifts, one of which included...me.
My father was of the old ways. He believed he was doing me a favor. I would be the envy of many, he told me, for I was to be bride of your cousin, the king.
Your cousin, who already had a queen.
But I digress.
As I said earlier, that day was not the first time I met you.
Our story, alshaykh, started much, much earlier than that.
I was fifteen then, and you were coming to visit Farigha for state business. Everyone was excited to see you, albeit for varying reasons. The soldiers, having grown up listening to stories of your exploits, wished to see if their hero would live up to their ideals (which you did) while the women, well, they had their own reasons...as did I.
One look at you was enough, a wise woman once told me, and people would instantly know that they were in the presence of a legend come to life.
One look was all it takes, I remember her telling me quite insistently, and I would know right away why the kingdom think you a flesh-and-blood hero whose existence defined courage that people feel brave just by thinking of you.
But in those days, I found it difficult to believe that a man like you could truly be real. The sheer idea of you seem next to impossible. But because my heart told me to have faith, I took the risk.
One last risk just to see if I could still dream.
And when I finally saw you, it was then I realized.
You, my beloved sheikh, are my dream incarnate, and all those stories about you were so very wrong.
They say you were this and that, but they were all wrong.
You were neither legend nor hero.
One look at you, alshaykh, and I realized that you were our guardian angel, your wings shorn by God because He knew we needed you to walk among us.
And I know you might think I've changed my mind because of what I've learned, but it is not so. It will never be so.
I will always see you as an angel, and you will never cease to be my beloved hero.
But just as all dreams end, so has my time with you.
Because I know you, alshaykh. Your honor would never let you leave me even if you do not love me.