21| Give Me A Chance

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.

Hayat slowed her pace as she neared him, her anger and frustration fading into a strange sort of calm.

She attempted a smile as Tayyab wouldn't stop staring at her.

He reached out his hand.

When she took it, she noticed a thick band of muted gold on the third finger of his right hand. Hayat ran her thumb over it.

She looked up immediately, worried he would wonder what she was doing.

But he was unfazed.

Secretly she'd been hoping to make him happy. He wasn't aware that the theme for this party was his mother's garden.

He laced his fingers through hers. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” words had rolled out of her treacherous mouth before she could stop it.

To make it less embarrassing, she'd added further, "I hope you like the arrangements."

“I know I will." He looked taken aback because she had never before tried to please him but he shrugged it away. "Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

At this, Tayyab smiled. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Hayat felt herself shudder at the mere contact but it made her feel ashamed too. The way her heart behaved around him was starting to cause her trouble. She was ashamed of herself and at the same time, she couldn't stop herself either.

“Thankyou for everything Zouja.” She nodded, words failing her.

They then strode forward and the guards pushed open one of the huge doors. The warmth of Tayyab’s hand led Hayat onto the upper landing of an immense two-way staircase shaped like open arms. For an instant, she hesitated as several gaze ceased at them all at once but Tayyab grasped her palm tight and started down the stairs with Hayat beside him. Over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of red silk trailing behind her like gently rolling waves across a sea of marble.

When they paused at the base of the first few staircase, Hayat gasped in wonder for the second time that evening.

It had all come out together so beautifully.

Potted roses lined the entrances to the ballroom. They formed a mazelike path to the refreshment table, before opening up in the center of the room to allow plenty of space for the dancing, or for walking around. Every member of the orchestra wore a black rose—the men in their breast pockets, the ladies in their hair—in honor of the late queen.

She had the ballroom painted, so it looked like ivy climbed up the columns. Green rugs lined the floors, perfectly imitating grass. Rose petals had been sprinkled over the ground, giving off a soft fragrance.

It took several manservants and long ladders, but they also managed to dangle bouquets of roses from the ceiling. An occasional petal would fall, raining the floor with even more flower petals. Yousef had ordered tapestries to go along the walls, making them appear as though the edges of a garden rest all around them.

The electric chandeliers were shining brightly. She wanted everything well lit. Not only to give the illusion of noonday in the garden, but so that any treachery or deceit would be impossible to hide behind shadows.

She could see everything from above and she was satisfied with the results of her labour.

When she finally glanced at Tayyab, he was already looking at her weirdly, as though she was a puzzle that he was trying to solve but then he smiled a hearty smile that made her feel nothing but warm and fuzzy.

They were both out of their trance when they heard the announcement, "Our host and hostess for the night everyone. The prince of Hudaan, Tayyab bin Zubair and his wife."

Hayat had immediately scowled at that.

The herald hadn't named her as if being his wife was her only identity. She pressed her lips together and continued to walk despite the anger she felt but Tayyab had come to a halt.

All heads had turned in their direction, bodies twisting, necks craning for a better vantage point.

She looked at him in confusion when he let go of her hand and went back to the announcer. Hayat watched him exchange a few words with him and then Tayyab was back beside her.

They continued to walk down the stairs when the herald spoke again, "I apologize for the mistake, let's welcome the hostess and the host of this splendid ball, the future queen of Hudaan, Hayat Nazar and her husband."

She turned her gaze to Tayyab who was smiling proudly at that, as if it was the only identity that made him feel proud. The crowd had cheered for them.

The moment they reached the end of the staircase, Aziz had neared them, "What a party! You've really done a great job." He praised her and Tayyab looked more satisfied and proud than her. It truly amused her. She wasn't understanding him well.

He looked around at the arrangements with careful deliberation. He loved it. The twinkling of his eyes and his smile gave that away.

Aziz soon excused himself, and other guests gathered around her, praising her some more.

They walked to the dais, where the king had been seated along with the vizier of Kingdom of Qalb and Altamash. They were also accompanied by some important councilmen and their families.

On their arrival, the king beamed, "My beautiful daughter! I am so glad I assigned you with the task. The arrangements are absolutely stunning and ravishing. All of this reminds me of my late wife. I miss her so much." He said sadly. Tayyab had gone rigid beside her. The king was a splendid actor. He mentioned Tayyab's mother so fondly that nobody would ever doubt the hatred he had in his heart for her.

"All these flowers, it just reminds me of her." Though the King looked distressed, Hayat could hear the bitter truth and the malice that the king had in his heart for his wife.

She only understood that no matter how sweet the king was to her, she couldn't discern his actual intentions.

"I am glad you liked it my king." Hayat offered him a ready smile. She bowed her head and touched her fingertips to her brow.

"Meet the vizier of Kingdom of Qalb, Abu Lateef." The king introduced. Lateef had bowed slightly before Tayyab and then to her. He was an attractive man with a strong jaw, He was trim and appeared in good health, with a deceptively warm set of dark brown eyes. His charcoal-colored mantle was exquisitely embroidered at its collar and hem, and the scimitar at his hip had a burnished hilt of solid gold with an emerald the size of a child’s fist embedded in its base. He looked like he was a couple of years older to Tayyab. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Hayat had said.

"Likewise my lady. I must say, I am extremely impressed with all the arrangements tonight."  He further said. Tayyab had looked lost as if deep in thought as he avoided being a part of the conversation. The king leaned back into the cushions with a satisfied smile,

"Indeed! Our lady has outdone herself." Altamash's condescending sneer had her agitated.

"Thankyou Uncle. I must have done really well  for you to praise me." Altamash's eyes widened, and something flared for an instant in their pools of contrived warmth but then he covered it with a vicious laugh.

Unfortunately she had to sit in between them for sometime, before she could excuse herself. The refreshments were served in a gold tray, meticulously arranged cupcakes and chips were brought in by the khadims.

Ten minutes later, Hayat was already bored, the king wouldn't stop talking about his late wife Saba with so much love that nobody could have thought, he wanted to kill her. Hayat heard everything attentively incase she got to hear something informative.

“We’ve had soldiers arrive from the eastern border of the Kingdom" Altamash informed the king, his voice cold as he takes a sip of his drink. “The news they bring isn’t good. There are open acts of rebellion happening right and left. The people are killing our soldiers as well as yours. They start fires in the barracks. Throw rotten food upon our regent when they travels the streets. Things are getting out of hand. There is someone who is leading them but nobody is willing to speak or give away the names.” Hayat heard attentively as he spoke.

“They oppose your rule?”

A muscle ticks in Altamash's jaw as Hayat questions. “They were beaten. We conquered them fair and square. Their taxes are hardly more than what they were before, and our soldiers provide protection for the whole city. The only lawlessness to be found is within the insurgent peasants.” Tayyab spoke from beside her, finally breaking the silence.

“So what’s to be done? Public hangings?” Hayat found herself questioning. It wasn't like she was unaware of what their ways were.

“So far, it’s only been public floggings. The smaller the population, the fewer taxes we receive. We plan to move on to conquering another rebel conquered area by next year. The army needs the money.” Altamash explains agitated, he hated the fact that she thought she had the audacity to speak in the matters of the kingdom and so Hayat enjoyed it all the more. Until the King stopped her, she would love to irritate uncle Altamash.

“But if I may ask, doesn’t flogging a man make it difficult for him to work? How will you obtain your taxes then?”

“Do you have a better idea?” His irritation was quite discernible. Though his smile wavered for less than an instant, there was no mistaking it; she was irritating him.

Each of his word was like a spear soaked in sweet water.

“Oftentimes, it is not fear of punishment that prevents wrongdoing. Sometimes working to gain something is better. What do the residents want aside from their independence?” Hayat asked. She was well aware that Tayyab had been listening to her every word but he refrained from speaking at all.

Lateef turned to her. “We don’t know.” He said thoughtfully.

“Perhaps a good place to start would be to give them a voice. Allow them to select someone of their own choosing to be on the regent’s council—if the attacks cease.” The deafening silence that followed was broken by Altamash's sarcastic laugh.

"Lady Hayat, I think you should better concentrate on throwing us these wonderful balls. It's best for women to not give opinions in the matters of the Kingdom." Hayat had scowled, she didn't notice how Tayyab had clenched his hands, curling up his fingers into a tight fist. "Why? What's wrong with my opinion Uncle?"

“You say we should give them more power? So they become untamable?” He asks incredulously in between his laughter. The king didn't raise his opinion, although he observed the conversation with scrutiny.

“Of course not. We would give them the illusion of power. Once you know who they’ve chosen and who that person interacts with the most, you’ll have found the ringleaders. And you can put an end to all of them. Crush the entire rebellion underfoot without hurting the innocents. It would also set a good example for the rest and at the same time, we would earn respect of the people.”

Altamash swallowed the bite of cupcake in his mouth.

Silence befell once again. Then the king finally spoke, “Hayat my lovely daughter! that’s positively despicable.” he said the words like they were the highest compliment he could give her.

“You are an absolute gem, do you know that?”

The king praised her. Altamash looked embarrassed but didn't dare to give any sarcastic remark. Tayyab's mouth had twitched into a smile and her whole body warmed at the sight.

Hayat was again distracted when Abu salem, the governer of trade walked into the party with his daughter Zeenat.

Zeenat moped at the sight of Tayyab and Hayat together but then her eyes lit up at the sight of the vacant seat beside Tayyab. She rushed past the crowd leaving her father behind to take a seat beside Hayat's husband.

Hayat told herself that she didn't care.

Zeenat didn't sit beside Hayat, on another vacant space beside her. As soon as she took her seat beside Tayyab, she beamed.

Tayyab shifted in his seat, Inclining more towards Hayat, their knees brushing against each other.

"How are you Tayyab?" She baited her eyelids at him. "Alhamdulillah! Can't be more grateful to my rab." Hayat looked straight ahead at the wall, acting as if she wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed how Tayyab tried to ignore Zeenat and she shifted her seat more near to him.

"You look so handsome tonight. I miss you Tayyab. I miss us." She whispered. Hayat felt her appetite drop. What was she even talking about?

Hayat wasn't aware that they had a past.

"Zeenat!" Tayyab sighed. Hayat didn't like the discomfort she felt at him addressing her like that. "I don't know how to explain it to you." He huffed.

"Please don't say anything that'll break my heart." She choked back a sob and Hayat felt bad for her. She realised her husband was a casanova and Maybe he had been faking his love for Meher throughout.

Hayat was out of her trance when Tayyab got up and left. She didn't dare to risk a glance at Zeenat.

After a minute Tayyab Sauntered back but took a seat on Hayat's other side, leaving the seat in between Hayat and Zeenat vacant. Zeenat looked embarrassed.

Hayat had risen from the table to leave them both behind, stone-faced, to begin greeting all the noblemen in attendance.

Without Tayyab.

She had been determined to carry on for a time without the future Caliph of Hudaan at her side.

Without the so-called handsome prince and his many, many secrets.

She didn't want to talk to him.

But now she was . . . foundering.

She was getting so comfortable with the attention he gave her, that she had forgotten about who he was.

A killer.

How could she do this to her parents and  Ahmer?

How could she feel anything but hatred for him in her heart?

All of this had her frustrated.

No. She was only pretending. She was only following the orders given to her by the rebels. They wanted her to get closer to him. To find his weakness. That's it!

But in reality, no matter what lies she fed herself, Hayat knew that there was no sane explanation for the way her heart behaved around him but she downright decided to shrug the feeling away and not acknowledge it at all.

Five minutes later, Hayat shook her head and smiled at the chattering nobleman and his wife before her, struggling to clear her mind so she could focus on their conversation.

Her eyes then searched for Usman who she hadn't seen ever since the day of execution. He was probably busy with his duties of guarding the palace tonight.

She looked for the general and found him talking to a beautiful girl, he was flirting with her. Hayat smiled mischievously. Oh! she was going to enjoy teasing him about it for hours during her training.

Hayat finally excused herself from the nobleman to search for Ali and Yousef. She found them near the refreshment table. They were both enjoying the cupcakes but there were more warriors with them. She made her way to the tables.

"Brothers!" She said delightfully. They answered her with a beam. "Look at our beautiful sister!" Ali exclaimed and Hayat found herself laughing. The other warriors had bowed in a hurry, Ali and Yousef didn't.

They were way past the formalities.

"Are you enjoying the ball?" She asked the warriors. "Yes my lady. It is amazing."

One of them said.

"I love the food. It is delicious." Another warrior spoke while taking a bite of the cupcake.

When the warriors excused themselves, Hayat was left with Ali and Yousef.

"Has proper arrangements been made for the dinner?" She asked Yousef. "You don't have to worry about it. I have taken care of everything. You just need to relax and enjoy."  Hayat smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Is everything fine?" Ali asked her with concern.

"Yes. I just wanted to ask something." They curiously waited for her to speak. She fidgeted with the folds of her dress as she asked, "Does Zeenat and Tayyab have a past?"

"Ooooo! Somebody is jeaaalouuus" Ali hooted as he teased while Yousef sniggered. They attracted a couple of stares and Hayat was immediately embarrassed. "Stoppp it Ali!"

"You don't have anything to worry about. Tayyab isn't the kind of man. Zeenat has always been like this. She was very vocal about her crush on him but he's been ignoring her, running away from her since his teenage years."

Hayat exhaled in a huff. “Of course.” but the strange contentment her heart felt, was both amusing and frustrating.

"Oh C'mmon admit it that you were jealous!" Ali insisted but Hayat ended up laughing out of embarrassment since she didn't have a fitting reply.

Hayat laughed, and the lyrical sound carried up into the dome, bouncing from the cornices back to the green carpet at their feet.

“You laugh very loud—as if you are the only one in the world,” Yousef commented.

Hayat wrinkled her nose. “That’s funny. Leila says something very similar.”

“I assume it makes little difference to you.”

“Why? You’d prefer I stop?” she teased.

“No,” Tayyab said, as he strode near the refreshment table, beside her. “I would not.”

“Sayyidi.” Ali and Yousef bowed.

He nodded at them. “I cannot speak for Ali and Yousef. But you do laugh too loud. And I hope you never stop.”

Yousef tucked his chin to his chest and smiled whilst Ali began to cough, as they hurried out of the area without a word.

"Dinner is being served. We should take our seat." He said politely and Hayat obliged.

Both of them joined the long dining table for dinner, without exchanging another word.

Two rows of servants descended the open-armed staircases, bearing steaming trays above their heads. Yousef had promised to take care of the dinner arrangements. They marched in unison until each servant took a place behind every seated guest on the table, setting plates of food in front of each guest—aromatic biryani, Chicken wings, bright and gleaming with glaze beside little pots of white sauce. A pile of chopped potatoes, fried to a turn, topped with crisped sausages and bubbling eggs. Wheat cakes larger than her spread hand, buttered and glistening with syrup, skewers of mutton and roasted tomatoes, fresh vegetables garnished with mint and chopped parsley and olives marinated in fine oil.

Hayat's stomach grumbled in response to the sight that her eyes beheld. She hadn't eaten her lunch out of nervousness and excitement. The air filled with the aroma of spices and the clamor of conversation.

She heard her plate rattle as the food was being placed on it. Tayyab served her with his own hands. He put some biryani in her plate and then to his own. A couple of gasps and curious gaze had turned to them but Tayyab paid no heed.

Around the table, almost everyone praised the arrangements. "If Saba was alive, she would have been delighted to see how beautiful the ballroom looked today and how amazing the arrangements have been. When she was alive, I remember her telling me all her plans for Tayyab's marriage. Oh! What will I not give up today to have my wife back." The King faked a sob. Hayat watched Tayyab clench his jaw. It bugged him.

The king's lies bugged him. The king was trying too hard to convince his kingdom that he was a loving husband.

Hayat ignored the conversation and devoured her food with absolute delight. As she ate, she chanced another perusal of the room, to see if everyone else enjoyed the food as much as she did.

They were all content with it.

A victorious smile captured Hayat's mouth.

Tayyab silently ate beside her occasionally, his concentration elsewhere, later he just eased back onto the cushions, leaving his plate of food untouched.

"Lady Hayat, the kingdom of Qalb would be delighted to welcome you if you ever decide to visit us. I hope you do."

The vizier mumbled whilst taking a bite of the chicken wings.

"I'd love to." Altamash had sulked, and ignored the conversation as if he hadn't even heard it.

As the meal drew to a close, an assemblage of musicians gathered in the corner by the raised dais. No one seemed to be bothered but Hayat looked at them in confusion because she hadn't arranged it. Her eyes searched for Yousef and Ali, both of them were as clueless as her. Hayat was alarmed. Her eyes roamed about in the foyer in search of any threat.

Then, from the opposite side of the dais, a young girl appeared.

A collective murmuring arose from the tables. A communal sigh of disbelief.

The king seemed bewildered but didn't say a word. Lateef simply enjoyed the view as if it happened to often in his kingdom. Aziz looked fascinated and Altamash, he smiled like an evil witch. Hayat felt the anger get the best of her.

That man wanted to spoil her day.

Umar groaned. Tayyab had just looked away.

For she was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Hayat had ever beheld.

She was dressed in a fitted top of fiery red silk that left little to the imagination and a matching flowing skirt with intricate embroidery along the hem. Her hair fell past her waist in spiralling curls of mahogany, with hints of auburn set aflame by the torchlight. Her face would have brought a painter to his knees—high cheekbones, flawless skin, arched brows, and a fringe of black lashes that fanned over obscenely large eyes.

But then, the girl began to dance.

She moved like a snake, writhing across the black and white stones to the rising strains of the music. The curves of her body seemed inspired by the moon itself. Her hands and hips beckoned, beseeched  and befuddled. Everyone was fascinated. They eyed her like a wolf. She twisted and swayed in a manner that was altogether otherworldly.

Altogether unfair.

The only thing that had strangely calmed her was the fact that Tayyab only stared at his plate like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

As the girl made her mesmeric way to the center of the tables, Hayat tensed in awareness.

She was dancing for Tayyab. Hayat unknowing clenched the spoon that she was holding, hard. Her eyes lingered over to Altamash, the gleam in his eyes gave it away that he was behind this stupid sharade.

It was obvious. The girl’s eyes were locked on the future Caliph of Hudaan, her dark irises a host of the forbidden. With each slow spin, her rich mane of hair coiled about her shoulders, and the gems at her stomach flashed in wild abandon.

When she smiled at Tayyab as though they shared a lifetime of secrets, an ugly series of images flickered through Hayat’s mind—most of them beginning and ending with mahogany curls being torn by their roots from the beautiful girl’s head.

How could she be so childish? She shouldn't care.. No.. She doesn't care if they even walked away together.

It doesn’t matter. None of this matters.

Hayat took a deep breath and averted her gaze. When Ali started to laugh, she glowered at him, the heat rising in her neck.

Hayat thought that the brazen girl had ended the dance a stone’s throw from Tayyab and herself, her hands positioned above her head and her endless curls thrown into an alluring mass over one shoulder.

Wonderful. Now go home.

Instead, the girl sashayed toward them, her slender hips continuing to sway, even without music. She stopped right in front of Hayat and Tayyab.

Hayat was beyond irritated. No.

Irritated would not be an apt word.

Distressed?

No. That wouldn’t be quite right, either.

Furious? Maybe.

Then the girl grinned and passed a finger over Tayyab's shoulder seductively.

“Hello, my prince,” she said in a voice of silken sin. Hayat had felt her blood boil but then Tayyab stood up, pushing his chair behind with brutal force. The girl stumbled back.

All activities came to a halt.

Everyone watched in shock as Tayyab glared at the girl and strode out of the hall.

The girl was bewildered, it almost looked like she would begin to cry and to say that Hayat was shocked would be an understatement.

She found herself getting up from her seat and following behind Tayyab.

She clutched onto her dress fearing that she would stumble upon it and fall.

When she went out, it was almost as if he had disappeared. She asked one of the guards about his whereabouts and came to know that he had gone to his terrace.

Hayat walked as fast as she could in her heels, her mind was a jumble mess. She didn't know why she was running after him.

When she walked into the terrace, his back faced her as he stood in the place she had been standing the previous day, looking down at his mother's garden.

Hayat's breath was uneven from her little marathon.

She walked toward him in absolute silence and stood beside him. The cold breeze had her shudder.

"I didn't arrange for her." She said flatly.

"I don't care." His cold reply made her furrow her brows in confusion. Why was he angry with her?

Hayat glanced up at Tayyab, warring with a resurgence of emotions. Her throat tightened, and the anger threatened to pour from her in a storm of words he did not deserve to hear.

Because he did not deserve to know her deepest thoughts. Her truest desires.

Hayat was taken a back, when he pulled her to himself and caged her between himself and the railings, "Tell me that didn't bother you?" He was angry.

"It didn't." Hayat gulped the lump that had formed in her throat. In an instant he let go of her arms and smiled, "liar!"

He shifted beside her, leaned onto the railing and looked at the garden, the roses looked fresh but it was darker now since it was night time.

Hayat didn't know what to say or do. She didn't know if she should leave.

"This is where I last saw her." He barely whispered. "She saw me and turned back to assure me that she would come back for me."

Without a hint of emotion, Tayyab went on.

"I... I..uh.." Hayat had tried but no coherent words came out of her mouth.

Tayyab turned to look at her with a pained expression, he placed his hands on her cheek, both his palms cupped her face as he spoke, "I want you to know that you have the full right to live your life the way you want to. If you are not happy here, you can go. Travel and see the seven kingdoms. Do what makes you happy. You don't have to worry about your finance. I will provide for you till my last breath." Hayat was speechless. She stared at him gobsmacked, falling short of words.

"You don't have to answer me now. Take your time but just tell me before you decide to leave. Don't leave me without a good bye." The sadness in his eyes reflected in hers. She pitied him.

There was nobody who loved him!

"If you want to talk about your mother, I will listen." His eyes turned cold as he witnessed the pity in her eyes, and he withdrew his hands back.

Hayat watched him leave without another word.

......

Later that night Hayat sat alone in her chamber, in the centre of a platformed cushion piled high with pillows covered in vibrant fabrics. Surrounding the bed was a thin veil of spider-silk, blowing with eerie leisure at the slightest disturbance. Her knees were drawn to her chest; her fingers were laced across her ankles.

Her thoughts were killing her alive.

Did she want to leave the palace? Where would she go?

She felt like a traitor, who betrayed her dead parents and fiance, yet she couldn't stop herself from thinking about him either.

She had stayed in this position for the better part of the night. Each time she tried to venture from the spot, her nerves threatened to overcome her.

She felt restless.

She exhaled loudly and clasped her hands even tighter above her feet.

Soon, the panic she had been fighting for the last hour began to bear down on her like a hammer on an ironsmith’s anvil.

She had to ignore him at any cost. So what if he was angry with her.

“ya rab!” she murmured, breaking through the stillness.

Has my heart soften for him?

Hayat shook her head.

These macabre thoughts rubbed at the edges of her composure, pushing her down into the fathomless realms of terror—a terror she’d managed to keep at bay, thus far.

She pressed her hands to her temples and willed the terror back, back inside the steel-encased enclosure of her heart.

And then the doors swung open with a low creak. Hayat’s pulse jumped to a martial beat.

She dropped her palms to the soft cushion at her sides.

A moment later, the prince of Hudaan appeared at the threshold.

He waited, as if considering something, before entering the chamber and pushing the doors shut.

In the pale glow emitting from the candles, his intense,burning eyes seemed even more calculating and remote. The lines of his face fell into shadow as he turned from the light, sharpening the bladed hollows of his features.

An immovable countenance. Cold and forbidding, yet vulnerable and broken.

Hayat threaded her fingers beneath her knees.

“I miss her. Every single day. I miss her.” His voice was low and unassuming. Almost . . . kind but Hayat knew he choked back a sob as he sat across from her.

“I know."

"Give me a chance Ya Amar. You will not regret it." Hayat only watched perplexed.

Without another word, he shifted and put his head on her lap.

Her heartbeat rose in her ears as each breath became more laboured. He stared at her face with affection.

His proximity was nerve wrecking.

She returned his gaze, hoping the mosaic of color in her eyes hid the thoughts running rampant behind them. A while later he closed his eyes and fell into deep slumber.

She wanted to push him away but the butterflies in her stomach wouldn't go away.

Again a long one!

Did you guys like it?

What do you think about Tayyab?

What was the best moment in this chapter according to you?