10 - Zain
1443 Words
10
Zain
“Because, Princess Nasrin, I am asking you to marry me,” I said, my voice echoing in the dark night.
Her lush lips parted when she gaped at me. Even shocked, she was a stunning beauty. I hadn’t been able to form any coherent words when I had seen her sitting in the library, her thick hair flowing down her waist, making me want to run my hand through it. Hold it as I whispered filthy things in her ear. What I would do to her if we were alone.
Her dark eyes glared at me through the surrounding kohl, illuminating her brown orbs. “Are you asking or ordering, Sultan?” She asked, her tone mocking when she tried so hard not to reject me.
I adored it.
The way she talked back to me, wanting to reject my proposal with defiance in her eyes. Maybe I was foolish, but I wanted to marry her, see the fire in her eyes every time I wake up next to her.
“I am asking, Princess Nasrin.” I smiled at her, “For now.”
Her chest heaved when she took a step closer to me, my eyes dropping low at the exposed cleavage before landing on her beautiful, angry face. “Are you threatening me, Zain? Blackmailing the Princess of Maahnoor to get married?”
I blinked innocently at her. “I have done nothing of that sort, Princess, but I would if you do not accept my proposal.”
“Truly romantic. I am swooning,” Nasrin said with a smile dripping with venom.
“I wish I could have asked you in better circumstances, but time is of the essence.”
“No, it’s certainly not. And I am rejecting your sad excuse of a proposal,” she snapped, ready to leave with my suit still draped around her shoulders.
I wanted to hold her arm, but I didn’t want to get kicked in the crotch so I said, “It is either me or that sad excuse of a sheikh, Nasrin.”
She stopped in her tracks, her golden gown shimmering in the moonlight.
Knowing I had her, I continued, “Remind me, Princess, how old is he again? Fifty-four, was it? No, no, I think it was sixty-four—”
“Stop,” she hissed, the guards giving her an incredulous look when she marched in front of me. Anger rolled off of her in waves. “How do you know about that?”
“That you are not getting any suitors because of that pretty tongue of yours, Princess Nasrin?” I drawled.
Her eyes turned feral.
“I like to know about people with whom I share my bed, and the rumors of Princess Nasrin denying every proposal that comes her way are pretty famous. I know for a fact that you have denied princes and made them so angry after your rejection that only an old sheikh with two wives wants to marry you.” I raked my eyes over her slim build, “And that too for your youth.”
She seethed. “What’s your point, Sultan? You don’t want to cry in your bed after getting rejected by me?”
“Oh, you won’t reject me, Nasrin,” I said, leaning closer. “Because you will be my wife.”
“T-that is not true, I…”
I tilted my head for her to continue when she flared her nose at me. She was furious, but she knew I was right. Having a little pity on her, I stepped back and asked,
“What is that you were going to ask me? Before I asked you for the marriage?”
“Does it matter now?”
“Yes, it does matter to me.”
She gave me a wary look. “I was going to ask if you had found or chosen any bride yet.”
So she knew I had been looking for a bride.
“I have.” I looked straight at her with burning brown eyes. “Now.”
“Why are you doing all of this, Zain?” she asked, her voice lowering that pulled at my stomach. “I am a lowly princess from Maahnoor. Surely women must be begging you on their knees to be your wife. Our countries are sworn enemies, and yet here you are.”
“You are not a lowly princess, Nasrin. The history between Azmia and Maahnoor runs deeper than you know. If you accept my proposal, it will benefit our countries for the better.” I took her palm, ignoring her warm touch, and lightly brushed my lips over her knuckles. “You have until tomorrow to think about this, or I will have to take measures and matters into my own hands, Princess.”
I stepped back, turning my back on her when she asked, “What will those measures include?”
Staring straight at her, I said, “Dethroning your eldest brother from being the Sultan of Maahnoor and making sure no one but that sheikh has a marriage proposal for you.” I removed an imaginary speck of lint from my black shirt and continued, “We both know your father enough that he’d accept the Sheikh’s proposal. I am giving you a choice, Nasrin.”
“It’s not a choice if it’s between that sheikh and you.” she clenched her jaw, her eyes gleaming. “You are being cruel.”
I stared at her. Maybe I was. How far does the apple fall from its tree? “Maybe. But I am not marrying for the same reason that sheikh is. I do not… want to force you into a physical marriage.”
Nasrin frowned, her eyes gliding over my body. Crossing her arms, she raised her chin and asked, “Then? Why would you marry me?”
I cleared my throat, raking a hand through my hair. “You are beautiful, Nasrin. You must know that. But I don’t care about your physical attributes. I have to get married, get a wife, a sultana. The animosity between our countries will end with you being the Sultana of Azmia.”
Silence hung between us, the guards shuffling a few yards away. They couldn’t hear us, but they must have felt the hovering tension between us.
“Will you,” she took a deep breath and stepped closer, “Will you help me dethrone my eldest brother?”
Amusement glinted in my eyes as I raised my brow.
Nasrin continued, “We both know why you want to dethrone him. He has made terrible mistakes as the Sultan of Maahnoor and harassing a young man. That was the last straw. My younger brother, Imran, he will be a far better sultan, Zain.”
I gazed at her dark eyes, fueled with determination to do the right thing. I leaned down and purred against her cheek, “If you become a sultana, my wife, you can do anything you want, Nasrin.”
She took a shuddering breath when I pulled away. “I would need to think about it.”
“You have until tomorrow.”
Her eyes blazed, “Do not force me into this marriage, Zain.”
I took a sharp breath and glared at her, her eyes blinking back at me as if it shocked her. Her words had cut right through me.
“I won’t wait more than a week,” I said, and walked away without giving her a second look. The guards stayed with her while I made my way to my room.
She didn’t know how much her words had hurt. A stab to my heart.
Those were the same words I had heard my mother speak, sobbing through tears when me and Khalid would try to console her after our father’s cruelty. She would weep silently, running her hands through our hair, having little Khalid sit on her lap because he was scared and tell us how he had forced her to get married.
My father had seen my mother in the market, called it love, and ordered her to accept his hand in marriage. She was wooed by his charms, but didn’t know she was selling her body and soul to a devil until it was too late.
Do not force me into this marriage, Zain.
Nasrin’s sharp words echoed in my head when sleep came to me at the darkest hour, hoping I wouldn’t wake up with another twisted nightmare. Because I had become the only person I hated in the world.
My father.
- Writer
