“Kamran, let’s go so you can keep teaching me how to shoot with the bow and arrow, okay?”
This was what she said, snapped him out of the secret doting gaze he had been lost in. She spoke without even looking in his direction.
He lowered his eyes and, using his hands, began slicing his orange exactly the way he saw her do it. He had never consumed an orange like this before, nor had he ever seen one cut into such wedges until today with her. His mother always sliced them with a knife for them to peel and eat. Today, he was witnessing a brand-new style of carving it into neat segments.
“Pretty, as for teaching you how to shoot an arrow, I need to prepare first. It’s better that I start by teaching you how to play the flute.” He concluded his sentence as he brought a single wedge of the orange to his small mouth, pushed it in, and slowly began to savor it.
“But earlier, you were the one who said you would start by teaching me archery, weren't you?” She spoke with a slight pout, using the same spoiled tone she often used with Sweetie. She looked at his handsome face while jutting her tiny lips out.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes and let them rest on her beautiful face. “I will teach you, but honestly, not right now. I have to speak with my mother and ask her something first. Right now, I just feel like I can’t do it; I won’t be able to.” He spoke in a somewhat weary voice, clearly indicating that he didn't want to dwell on the thought of teaching her at all. Only he knew what he felt every time their bodies brushed against each other; no matter how minor the contact of skin against flesh was, his entire body reacted to it.
She shifted closer to Sweetie and lay down on the ground, resting her head upon Sweetie's lap. As you already know, she was an absolute craver of physical affection, just like a cat.
“Get off Sweetie so you don't hurt her, you little troublemaker,” Kamran chided, speaking while continuing to consume his orange.
“Sweetie, can I lie here?” she asked, redirecting her gaze upward toward Sweetie’s face.
“Have you ever asked for my permission all the other times you’ve laid on me?” Sweetie replied, reaching her hand out to Pretty’s face, finding her long nose and giving it a playful little tug.
“Oh my goodness, Sweetie, you’re starting already?” she whined, holding her nose with one hand and pouting further.
Kamran fell silent, watching them with deep admiration. They loved each other immensely, and there was an incredible understanding between them. Sweetie possessed immense patience and foresight despite her lack of sight, while Pretty was a blend of pettishness, talkativeness, quick tears, a craving for affection, an inability to tolerate hunger, and so much more. Yet, none of this ever caused a rift between them. It was entirely Sweetie’s patience that kept the peace; if she had been as impatient as Pretty, they would be fighting all day long. Pretty would literally start crying the moment she felt a pang of hunger due to her lack of endurance.
“From now on, you should stop lying on Sweetie since you can see she isn't feeling well. If you feel the urge to lie down, come and lie on me instead. Don't add more weight onto her burden,” Kamran interjected, his eyes fixed intently on them. They charmed him, and their bond deeply warmed his heart over and over again.
“Exactly, Kamran, tell her! Honestly, can you check for me if she has gained weight? Because she feels heavier to me. Before, when she lay on my lap, I didn't feel much weight, but now it feels quite heavy when she lies down,” Sweetie said.
Pretty closed her eyes as though she were drifting off to sleep, completely ignoring them as if she couldn't hear what they were saying. She heard Kamran telling Sweetie that it was because she was growing up, which was why she was gaining weight, but she refused to pay them any attention. She was actually feeling quite drowsy; the pleasant weather of the area felt incredibly soothing to her.
Meanwhile, Sweetie and Kamran continued their conversation, speaking with mutual respect and showing genuine care for one another.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Rocky's low growl struck their eardrums. In an instant, Pretty’s eyes flew wide open in absolute terror. Sneakingly, she bolted up from her lying position. In a hilarious display, she began crawling on the ground like a cat, heading straight toward Kamran. As she crawled, her eyes were so wide they looked as if they might pop out if you looked at her, and she kept glancing frantically from side to side, trying to spot which direction Rocky might emerge from.
The sight almost made Kamran burst into laughter—what an absolute coward. Look at the way she was stealthily crawling as if she had committed a crime. This girl was truly a character.
He was afraid that if he laughed at her, it would turn into an argument, so he pretended not to see her and turned his gaze away. She came right up next to him and sat down, even reaching out to grasp his hand tightly within her own. Cautiously, with her eyes still darting around, she rested her head upon his shoulder, her eyes rolling nervously as she waited to see where this growling leopard would appear. Her stomach was tied in knots from fear.
Sweetie was gripped by fear as well, especially when she felt Pretty abruptly leave her lap. She became flustered and, in her panic, began calling out Pretty's name, asking Kamran if the leopard had returned to devour them.
Kamran stole a quick glance at the terrified Pretty, who had pinned her head completely still against his shoulder. You wouldn't believe she was the same person; she was entirely subdued. A sudden wave of absolute obedience had overtaken her, and she just sat there blinking nervously.
“Sweetie, it’s Rocky, my friend. Don’t worry, he won’t harm you,” he answered, bringing his hand close to Pretty’s face.
He snapped his fingers twice right in front of her face, seeing how she had frozen, staring intently at a single spot.
She squeezed him even tighter as Rocky’s growl sounded again, noticeably closer this time. She buried herself even deeper into his side.
“Kamran, I swear I’m terrified. Please, for God's sake, stop bringing this Rocky around us, I am so scared of him,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as if she were on the verge of tears, her eyes brimming with moisture.
The hand he had used to snap fingers in front of her face was gently lowered onto her skin. He began lightly stroking her soft cheek before he spoke.
“Pretty, even if I came here without Rocky, or if I ran away from him, he would track me down and follow me. As long as it's within this forest, there is nowhere I can go to hide from him; he follows the scent of my body to find me. If it weren't for that, just to make you happy, I would stop bringing him. But it's simply impossible. For now, what I want from you is to stop being afraid of him, do you hear me? He won’t do anything to you.” He spoke in a deeply soothing, comforting manner, with immense tenderness in his voice.
She remained quiet for a moment before she whined, looking as though she might burst into tears, “Then tell him to stop coming near me whenever he arrives, and he must stop touching me. I am so scared of him.” As she finished speaking, the tears that had gathered in her eyes began to trace down her cheeks.
His hand, which was resting on her cheek, began to wipe away her tears as he said, “Please Pretty, stop crying. I don't like seeing your tears. If it's Rocky you don't want near you, he won't come close. I will tell him not to touch you, but you must stop crying, okay? Don't you see that Sweetie isn't crying?”
The truth was, they were very different. Sweetie didn't harbor the type of terror that Pretty did. She felt fear, but it wasn't even half of what Pretty felt, and she thoroughly trusted Kamran's words. Since he said Rocky wouldn't do anything to her, she simply believed it, remaining calm and composed—unlike Miss Pretty, the queen of drama, fussiness, and quick tears.
*O Allah, send prayers upon Muhammad and upon the family of Muhammad, as You sent prayers upon Abraham and upon the family of Abraham; You are indeed Praiseworthy, Most Glorious. O Allah, bless Muhammad and the family of Muhammad, as You blessed Abraham and the family of Abraham; You are indeed Praiseworthy, Most Glorious.* ❤️
### EPISODE 24 🔥
She shifted even closer to him, acting as though she wanted to completely melt into his body.
“Pretty, I told you Rocky won't harm you. And since you don't want him coming close to you or touching you, I’ve assured you he won't. Please stop this crying.” He spoke with a voice laden with worry, indicating how much he detested her tears.
Right at that moment, Rocky arrived. He walked with an air of absolute majesty, having eaten his fill of meat and contentedly licking his lips. Over the past couple of days, he had noticeably put on some weight and looked remarkably robust.
He headed straight toward Kamran, his breathing heavy and laced with low rumbles that signaled his complete satisfaction.
Goodness, Pretty squeezed Kamran even tighter, feeling as though she should just climb onto him. Her heart refused to believe that Rocky wouldn't harm her, and she couldn't accept that he wouldn't devour her. To her, tigers simply ate people.
Since he was completely full, he simply approached Kamran and lay down, completely ignoring everyone else. He didn't pay any attention to Pretty; usually, it was only when his stomach was a bit empty that he looked for trouble. But since he was satisfied, he just went to sleep, completely skipping his usual routine of sniffing Pretty today.
“See? He has just gone to sleep. You can stop crying now, that's enough, okay?” He spoke while continuing to wipe away her tears, feeling a strange sensation wash over his own body, as if he were catching a fever.
The hand he was using to wipe her tears was gently taken by her, holding it within her own. Slowly, she closed her eyes without letting go of his hand or moving away from his shoulder, falling completely silent as if asleep.
He too fell silent, calculating the right time to head back home so his mother wouldn't come looking for him. Sensing her steady, deep breathing typical of someone fast asleep, he shifted his gaze away from Sweetie—who sat quietly—and looked down at her face. She had fallen asleep right against him, clutching his hand tightly as if it belonged to her.
He let out a heavy sigh, training his beautiful clear eyes on her face, thoroughly observing her features. Her tiny lips looked incredibly beautiful to him. *The drama queen has actually fallen asleep, looking so peaceful,* he thought to himself. Then, he added in his mind: *She is so very, very beautiful—more than anybody I have ever seen in my life.* He thought this while drawing a long breath and letting it out slowly.
Noticing the prolonged silence, Sweetie asked, “Pretty, why has it gone so quiet between you two?”
Without looking in her direction, he answered her, “Pretty has fallen asleep.”
“She always falls asleep so easily, that little troublemaker,” she replied, adjusting her posture to lie down and sleep there as well.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lie down, but he simply couldn't tear his gaze away from Pretty's face. He felt as though if he looked away, he would lose something precious, which was why he couldn't even bring himself to glance at Sweetie.
Rocky, too, began drifting off into a deep slumber. Having eaten to his satisfaction, what else was there to do but sleep? The clearing was left with only Kamran awake, as it appeared Sweetie had fallen asleep as well…
KINGDOM OF POWER 💪🔥
Exactly as the King had commanded, Yusuf and his companions were escorted directly to the prison inside the palace, where servants and warriors are locked up and disciplined whenever they commit an offense.
Following the King, Uncle Abbas went to find him so they could deliberate. He intended to seek a pardon and leniency for Yusuf and his group, given that he was the one who had granted them permission to enter, and they were the children of his close friend. No matter what happened, since they hadn't actually committed the rape, he didn't want them facing a severe punishment. He had no idea that the King's mind was also flooded with thoughts that something wasn't right regarding Yusuf and his friends. The King knew that merely hearing the name of their kingdom was enough to strike deadly terror into any servant, let alone hearing the name of the King himself. Thus, he began to suspect that Yusuf's situation wasn't straightforward; he knew it was virtually impossible for anyone to possess the reckless audacity to confront the **KINGDOM OF POWER** and attempt to violate one of the palace princesses. Even a madman wouldn't gamble with his life in such a suicidal manner!
As for our twins—the absolute masters of sharp brains—they were casually lounging around. They were fully aware of every single explosive event happening in the house and could hear all the commotion, yet they acted as if they weren't even a part of the household. They were just up to their usual mischief on the bed, bursting into fits of hysterical laughter as if they were unhinged. Obaid would pretend to compose himself, only to burst into another round of wild laughter like a madman. Omaid, on the other hand, wasn't one for laughing; he would only offer a faint smirk whenever his brother did, being far more calculating and malicious than Obaid, which kept him entirely straight-faced.
Meanwhile, Princess Zunaira and her peers were away at school, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding within the family quarters. Their mothers hadn't received the news either, but Mama found out through one of her deceitful maids who served as her personal spy. Mama knew every single movement within the house, maintaining a highly efficient network of spies. Similarly, Mammie—the mother of Yah Jawad—knew absolutely everything that happened, whether in the King’s quarters or within the palace court, almost like a clairvoyant. She would receive news of court verdicts even before Uncle Abbas did; one could never guess where she sourced her information. She was a thousand times more formidable and tempestuous than Mama, possessing a reputation that preceded her. Right now, Mammie had already received word about everything happening in the guest quarters, tracking the event from start to finish. Her heart swelled with uncontained joy, and a wave of relief washed over her. After all, she and Uncle Abbas had previously had an intense clash because she vehemently refused to allow Yusuf near Sarina. If you recall, her ultimate ambition was for Sarina and Fanan to marry one of the Princes of the Kingdom of Power, so she despised any external male getting close to her daughters. That was why she had stubbornly insisted to Uncle Abbas that she did not want Yusuf around.
He, however, had maintained that Yusuf's arrival was inevitable, and if Sarina accepted him, the marriage would proceed without fail. This was why, upon hearing what had befallen Yusuf and his companions, a sinister smile began to form on her face—a smile whose true meaning could only be deciphered by her. Only she knew her ultimate plot, but it was a smile carrying deep, ominous undercurrents, far from anything good.
Similarly, if there was anything you ever wanted to know regarding the palace court, you only had to ask Aneesa, Mama's daughter, and she would give you a detailed account if she chose to speak. One could never fathom where she overheard everything from either.
Switching over to Yah Jawad and Princess Chuchu at the hospital, he was sitting down, holding his phone and tapping through it. However, he himself didn't even know what apps he was opening or what he was pressing, because his attention was entirely absent from the screen. His gaze was anchored entirely on the nurses who were busy applying therapeutic ointments to Princess Chuchu’s beautiful legs.
The poor girl’s eyes were bloodshot and brimming with tears. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs, but she was terrified of him, fearing he might subject her to some further cruelty.
Eventually, she could no longer endure the stinging sensation of a hot ointment they applied to her. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, they immediately began streaming down her cheeks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the downpour of her tears, noting that her knees were so red they looked as if they might start bleeding.
Utterly caught off guard, he abruptly ordered the nurses to stop what they were doing, stating that it was enough.
They snapped their heads up to look at him, and only then did he realize he had spoken aloud. Hardening his expressions instantly as if he hadn't been the one to speak, he maintained a stern, imposing posture. He stood up from the edge of the bed, feeling an urge to step outside and leave them to finish their work, yet he found himself rooted to the spot. In truth, he couldn't bear to watch what they were doing to her, which prompted him to turn his gaze directly toward her.
Thin streams of painful tears continued to flow down her cheeks.
“Jannat, didn't I warn you never to let me see tears on your face again? What are these tears for now?” he demanded, his face tightening into the ultimate, unyielding boss persona.
Wincing from the sharp sting of her injury, she began to weakly gesture with her hands, tightening her tiny lips as the tears cascaded down her face even faster. She spoke in a highly petted tone.
“I am sorry, Yah Jawad, my leg hurts so badly. I didn't even realize when the tears started falling, but I am sorry, I won't do it again...” She barely managed to finish her sentence because a heavy sob threatened to break through.
A sudden wave of intense pity struck his heart, but he suppressed it immediately, masking his expressions as he barked, “Okay, now wipe those tears away and do not let another one fall.”
Hastily, she brought her hands up to wipe the tears, but as fast as she wiped them away, more poured out heavily due to the intense heat generated by the ointment the nurses had applied to her legs.
Seeing that her bare hands were failing to stem the tide of tears, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, as soft as cat fur and radiating a rich fragrance. Slowly, he stepped closer to her, standing right by her head. He extended the handkerchief toward her, signaling for her to take it and wipe her face.
She reached her hand out to accept it, and it was then that he noticed her fingers were trembling violently, as if she were gripped by a severe chill. A brief wave of surprise hit him; assuming she had caught a fever, he placed his other hand against her forehead to check her temperature.
There was no fever at all; instead, her skin felt perfectly and pleasantly warm. It was purely her immense terror of him that was making her hands shake so badly.
He scrutinized her face closely before asking, “Jannat, are you alright?”
Taking the handkerchief, she began wiping her tears while nodding her head to signal that yes, she was perfectly fine.
Meanwhile, the nurses stood there completely open-mouthed, witnessing this display. He had halted them right in the middle of their duties, preventing them from finishing the application of the medication, yet he hadn't cleared them to leave ei
“Kamran, let’s go so you can keep teaching me how to shoot with the bow and arrow, okay?”
This was what she said, snapped him out of the secret doting gaze he had been lost in. She spoke without even looking in his direction.
He lowered his eyes and, using his hands, began slicing his orange exactly the way he saw her do it. He had never consumed an orange like this before, nor had he ever seen one cut into such wedges until today with her. His mother always sliced them with a knife for them to peel and eat. Today, he was witnessing a brand-new style of carving it into neat segments.
“Pretty, as for teaching you how to shoot an arrow, I need to prepare first. It’s better that I start by teaching you how to play the flute.” He concluded his sentence as he brought a single wedge of the orange to his small mouth, pushed it in, and slowly began to savor it.
“But earlier, you were the one who said you would start by teaching me archery, weren't you?” She spoke with a slight pout, using the same spoiled tone she often used with Sweetie. She looked at his handsome face while jutting her tiny lips out.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes and let them rest on her beautiful face. “I will teach you, but honestly, not right now. I have to speak with my mother and ask her something first. Right now, I just feel like I can’t do it; I won’t be able to.” He spoke in a somewhat weary voice, clearly indicating that he didn't want to dwell on the thought of teaching her at all. Only he knew what he felt every time their bodies brushed against each other; no matter how minor the contact of skin against flesh was, his entire body reacted to it.
She shifted closer to Sweetie and lay down on the ground, resting her head upon Sweetie's lap. As you already know, she was an absolute craver of physical affection, just like a cat.
“Get off Sweetie so you don't hurt her, you little troublemaker,” Kamran chided, speaking while continuing to consume his orange.
“Sweetie, can I lie here?” she asked, redirecting her gaze upward toward Sweetie’s face.
“Have you ever asked for my permission all the other times you’ve laid on me?” Sweetie replied, reaching her hand out to Pretty’s face, finding her long nose and giving it a playful little tug.
“Oh my goodness, Sweetie, you’re starting already?” she whined, holding her nose with one hand and pouting further.
Kamran fell silent, watching them with deep admiration. They loved each other immensely, and there was an incredible understanding between them. Sweetie possessed immense patience and foresight despite her lack of sight, while Pretty was a blend of pettishness, talkativeness, quick tears, a craving for affection, an inability to tolerate hunger, and so much more. Yet, none of this ever caused a rift between them. It was entirely Sweetie’s patience that kept the peace; if she had been as impatient as Pretty, they would be fighting all day long. Pretty would literally start crying the moment she felt a pang of hunger due to her lack of endurance.
“From now on, you should stop lying on Sweetie since you can see she isn't feeling well. If you feel the urge to lie down, come and lie on me instead. Don't add more weight onto her burden,” Kamran interjected, his eyes fixed intently on them. They charmed him, and their bond deeply warmed his heart over and over again.
“Exactly, Kamran, tell her! Honestly, can you check for me if she has gained weight? Because she feels heavier to me. Before, when she lay on my lap, I didn't feel much weight, but now it feels quite heavy when she lies down,” Sweetie said.
Pretty closed her eyes as though she were drifting off to sleep, completely ignoring them as if she couldn't hear what they were saying. She heard Kamran telling Sweetie that it was because she was growing up, which was why she was gaining weight, but she refused to pay them any attention. She was actually feeling quite drowsy; the pleasant weather of the area felt incredibly soothing to her.
Meanwhile, Sweetie and Kamran continued their conversation, speaking with mutual respect and showing genuine care for one another.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Rocky's low growl struck their eardrums. In an instant, Pretty’s eyes flew wide open in absolute terror. Sneakingly, she bolted up from her lying position. In a hilarious display, she began crawling on the ground like a cat, heading straight toward Kamran. As she crawled, her eyes were so wide they looked as if they might pop out if you looked at her, and she kept glancing frantically from side to side, trying to spot which direction Rocky might emerge from.
The sight almost made Kamran burst into laughter—what an absolute coward. Look at the way she was stealthily crawling as if she had committed a crime. This girl was truly a character.
He was afraid that if he laughed at her, it would turn into an argument, so he pretended not to see her and turned his gaze away. She came right up next to him and sat down, even reaching out to grasp his hand tightly within her own. Cautiously, with her eyes still darting around, she rested her head upon his shoulder, her eyes rolling nervously as she waited to see where this growling leopard would appear. Her stomach was tied in knots from fear.
Sweetie was gripped by fear as well, especially when she felt Pretty abruptly leave her lap. She became flustered and, in her panic, began calling out Pretty's name, asking Kamran if the leopard had returned to devour them.
Kamran stole a quick glance at the terrified Pretty, who had pinned her head completely still against his shoulder. You wouldn't believe she was the same person; she was entirely subdued. A sudden wave of absolute obedience had overtaken her, and she just sat there blinking nervously.
“Sweetie, it’s Rocky, my friend. Don’t worry, he won’t harm you,” he answered, bringing his hand close to Pretty’s face.
He snapped his fingers twice right in front of her face, seeing how she had frozen, staring intently at a single spot.
She squeezed him even tighter as Rocky’s growl sounded again, noticeably closer this time. She buried herself even deeper into his side.
“Kamran, I swear I’m terrified. Please, for God's sake, stop bringing this Rocky around us, I am so scared of him,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as if she were on the verge of tears, her eyes brimming with moisture.
The hand he had used to snap fingers in front of her face was gently lowered onto her skin. He began lightly stroking her soft cheek before he spoke.
“Pretty, even if I came here without Rocky, or if I ran away from him, he would track me down and follow me. As long as it's within this forest, there is nowhere I can go to hide from him; he follows the scent of my body to find me. If it weren't for that, just to make you happy, I would stop bringing him. But it's simply impossible. For now, what I want from you is to stop being afraid of him, do you hear me? He won’t do anything to you.” He spoke in a deeply soothing, comforting manner, with immense tenderness in his voice.
She remained quiet for a moment before she whined, looking as though she might burst into tears, “Then tell him to stop coming near me whenever he arrives, and he must stop touching me. I am so scared of him.” As she finished speaking, the tears that had gathered in her eyes began to trace down her cheeks.
His hand, which was resting on her cheek, began to wipe away her tears as he said, “Please Pretty, stop crying. I don't like seeing your tears. If it's Rocky you don't want near you, he won't come close. I will tell him not to touch you, but you must stop crying, okay? Don't you see that Sweetie isn't crying?”
The truth was, they were very different. Sweetie didn't harbor the type of terror that Pretty did. She felt fear, but it wasn't even half of what Pretty felt, and she thoroughly trusted Kamran's words. Since he said Rocky wouldn't do anything to her, she simply believed it, remaining calm and composed—unlike Miss Pretty, the queen of drama, fussiness, and quick tears.
*O Allah, send prayers upon Muhammad and upon the family of Muhammad, as You sent prayers upon Abraham and upon the family of Abraham; You are indeed Praiseworthy, Most Glorious. O Allah, bless Muhammad and the family of Muhammad, as You blessed Abraham and the family of Abraham; You are indeed Praiseworthy, Most Glorious.* ❤️
### EPISODE 24 🔥
She shifted even closer to him, acting as though she wanted to completely melt into his body.
“Pretty, I told you Rocky won't harm you. And since you don't want him coming close to you or touching you, I’ve assured you he won't. Please stop this crying.” He spoke with a voice laden with worry, indicating how much he detested her tears.
Right at that moment, Rocky arrived. He walked with an air of absolute majesty, having eaten his fill of meat and contentedly licking his lips. Over the past couple of days, he had noticeably put on some weight and looked remarkably robust.
He headed straight toward Kamran, his breathing heavy and laced with low rumbles that signaled his complete satisfaction.
Goodness, Pretty squeezed Kamran even tighter, feeling as though she should just climb onto him. Her heart refused to believe that Rocky wouldn't harm her, and she couldn't accept that he wouldn't devour her. To her, tigers simply ate people.
Since he was completely full, he simply approached Kamran and lay down, completely ignoring everyone else. He didn't pay any attention to Pretty; usually, it was only when his stomach was a bit empty that he looked for trouble. But since he was satisfied, he just went to sleep, completely skipping his usual routine of sniffing Pretty today.
“See? He has just gone to sleep. You can stop crying now, that's enough, okay?” He spoke while continuing to wipe away her tears, feeling a strange sensation wash over his own body, as if he were catching a fever.
The hand he was using to wipe her tears was gently taken by her, holding it within her own. Slowly, she closed her eyes without letting go of his hand or moving away from his shoulder, falling completely silent as if asleep.
He too fell silent, calculating the right time to head back home so his mother wouldn't come looking for him. Sensing her steady, deep breathing typical of someone fast asleep, he shifted his gaze away from Sweetie—who sat quietly—and looked down at her face. She had fallen asleep right against him, clutching his hand tightly as if it belonged to her.
He let out a heavy sigh, training his beautiful clear eyes on her face, thoroughly observing her features. Her tiny lips looked incredibly beautiful to him. *The drama queen has actually fallen asleep, looking so peaceful,* he thought to himself. Then, he added in his mind: *She is so very, very beautiful—more than anybody I have ever seen in my life.* He thought this while drawing a long breath and letting it out slowly.
Noticing the prolonged silence, Sweetie asked, “Pretty, why has it gone so quiet between you two?”
Without looking in her direction, he answered her, “Pretty has fallen asleep.”
“She always falls asleep so easily, that little troublemaker,” she replied, adjusting her posture to lie down and sleep there as well.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lie down, but he simply couldn't tear his gaze away from Pretty's face. He felt as though if he looked away, he would lose something precious, which was why he couldn't even bring himself to glance at Sweetie.
Rocky, too, began drifting off into a deep slumber. Having eaten to his satisfaction, what else was there to do but sleep? The clearing was left with only Kamran awake, as it appeared Sweetie had fallen asleep as well…
KINGDOM OF POWER 💪🔥
Exactly as the King had commanded, Yusuf and his companions were escorted directly to the prison inside the palace, where servants and warriors are locked up and disciplined whenever they commit an offense.
Following the King, Uncle Abbas went to find him so they could deliberate. He intended to seek a pardon and leniency for Yusuf and his group, given that he was the one who had granted them permission to enter, and they were the children of his close friend. No matter what happened, since they hadn't actually committed the rape, he didn't want them facing a severe punishment. He had no idea that the King's mind was also flooded with thoughts that something wasn't right regarding Yusuf and his friends. The King knew that merely hearing the name of their kingdom was enough to strike deadly terror into any servant, let alone hearing the name of the King himself. Thus, he began to suspect that Yusuf's situation wasn't straightforward; he knew it was virtually impossible for anyone to possess the reckless audacity to confront the **KINGDOM OF POWER** and attempt to violate one of the palace princesses. Even a madman wouldn't gamble with his life in such a suicidal manner!
As for our twins—the absolute masters of sharp brains—they were casually lounging around. They were fully aware of every single explosive event happening in the house and could hear all the commotion, yet they acted as if they weren't even a part of the household. They were just up to their usual mischief on the bed, bursting into fits of hysterical laughter as if they were unhinged. Obaid would pretend to compose himself, only to burst into another round of wild laughter like a madman. Omaid, on the other hand, wasn't one for laughing; he would only offer a faint smirk whenever his brother did, being far more calculating and malicious than Obaid, which kept him entirely straight-faced.
Meanwhile, Princess Zunaira and her peers were away at school, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding within the family quarters. Their mothers hadn't received the news either, but Mama found out through one of her deceitful maids who served as her personal spy. Mama knew every single movement within the house, maintaining a highly efficient network of spies. Similarly, Mammie—the mother of Yah Jawad—knew absolutely everything that happened, whether in the King’s quarters or within the palace court, almost like a clairvoyant. She would receive news of court verdicts even before Uncle Abbas did; one could never guess where she sourced her information. She was a thousand times more formidable and tempestuous than Mama, possessing a reputation that preceded her. Right now, Mammie had already received word about everything happening in the guest quarters, tracking the event from start to finish. Her heart swelled with uncontained joy, and a wave of relief washed over her. After all, she and Uncle Abbas had previously had an intense clash because she vehemently refused to allow Yusuf near Sarina. If you recall, her ultimate ambition was for Sarina and Fanan to marry one of the Princes of the Kingdom of Power, so she despised any external male getting close to her daughters. That was why she had stubbornly insisted to Uncle Abbas that she did not want Yusuf around.
He, however, had maintained that Yusuf's arrival was inevitable, and if Sarina accepted him, the marriage would proceed without fail. This was why, upon hearing what had befallen Yusuf and his companions, a sinister smile began to form on her face—a smile whose true meaning could only be deciphered by her. Only she knew her ultimate plot, but it was a smile carrying deep, ominous undercurrents, far from anything good.
Similarly, if there was anything you ever wanted to know regarding the palace court, you only had to ask Aneesa, Mama's daughter, and she would give you a detailed account if she chose to speak. One could never fathom where she overheard everything from either.
Switching over to Yah Jawad and Princess Chuchu at the hospital, he was sitting down, holding his phone and tapping through it. However, he himself didn't even know what apps he was opening or what he was pressing, because his attention was entirely absent from the screen. His gaze was anchored entirely on the nurses who were busy applying therapeutic ointments to Princess Chuchu’s beautiful legs.
The poor girl’s eyes were bloodshot and brimming with tears. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs, but she was terrified of him, fearing he might subject her to some further cruelty.
Eventually, she could no longer endure the stinging sensation of a hot ointment they applied to her. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, they immediately began streaming down her cheeks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the downpour of her tears, noting that her knees were so red they looked as if they might start bleeding.
Utterly caught off guard, he abruptly ordered the nurses to stop what they were doing, stating that it was enough.
They snapped their heads up to look at him, and only then did he realize he had spoken aloud. Hardening his expressions instantly as if he hadn't been the one to speak, he maintained a stern, imposing posture. He stood up from the edge of the bed, feeling an urge to step outside and leave them to finish their work, yet he found himself rooted to the spot. In truth, he couldn't bear to watch what they were doing to her, which prompted him to turn his gaze directly toward her.
Thin streams of painful tears continued to flow down her cheeks.
“Jannat, didn't I warn you never to let me see tears on your face again? What are these tears for now?” he demanded, his face tightening into the ultimate, unyielding boss persona.
Wincing from the sharp sting of her injury, she began to weakly gesture with her hands, tightening her tiny lips as the tears cascaded down her face even faster. She spoke in a highly petted tone.
“I am sorry, Yah Jawad, my leg hurts so badly. I didn't even realize when the tears started falling, but I am sorry, I won't do it again...” She barely managed to finish her sentence because a heavy sob threatened to break through.
A sudden wave of intense pity struck his heart, but he suppressed it immediately, masking his expressions as he barked, “Okay, now wipe those tears away and do not let another one fall.”
Hastily, she brought her hands up to wipe the tears, but as fast as she wiped them away, more poured out heavily due to the intense heat generated by the ointment the nurses had applied to her legs.
Seeing that her bare hands were failing to stem the tide of tears, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, as soft as cat fur and radiating a rich fragrance. Slowly, he stepped closer to her, standing right by her head. He extended the handkerchief toward her, signaling for her to take it and wipe her face.
She reached her hand out to accept it, and it was then that he noticed her fingers were trembling violently, as if she were gripped by a severe chill. A brief wave of surprise hit him; assuming she had caught a fever, he placed his other hand against her forehead to check her temperature.
There was no fever at all; instead, her skin felt perfectly and pleasantly warm. It was purely her immense terror of him that was making her hands shake so badly.
He scrutinized her face closely before asking, “Jannat, are you alright?”
Taking the handkerchief, she began wiping her tears while nodding her head to signal that yes, she was perfectly fine.
Meanwhile, the nurses stood there completely open-mouthed, witnessing this display. He had halted them right in the middle of their duties, preventing them from finishing the application of the medication, yet he hadn't cleared them to leave ei