Page 23 of Dirty Wild Sultan

“Ignore my words, Princess. Don’t pay them any heed. Those are just silly rumors. Let me get your bath ready and help you with—”

“There’s no need. I have been doing it for all my life,” I said. “Although, I have a small favor to ask you.”

“Anything for you, Princess.”

12

Zain

Iwas floating into the darkness, my body weightless as it moved like a merman in the water. The fog thick and heavy, my vision blurry when I watched the two little figures. The third figure bigger than the two of them, crouching to talk to them.

“No, sweet, it doesn’t hurt much,” she whispered, her voice soft as she caressed little Zain’s cheek and ruffled Khalid’s hair.

I frowned, my eyes on her swollen cheek.

Childhood me knew what had happened. He had seen it. Tried to stop it and had received a lashing of his own afterwards. “But I saw Father sl—”

“I fell down from the stairs, Zain,” her voice wasn’t soft anymore. It didn’t have any emotions. “Take your brother Khalid with you. Quickly before your father finds the both of you and scolds you two.”

“But I don’t want to leave you,” Khalid whined, his hands wrapping around her neck. “I don’t want Father to hurt you.”

The dark room blurred away, changed into the light room. I knew it was Zara’s nursery. Khalid was watching over her and painting a baby elephant, her favorite animal, on a canvas. Little Zain was scowling at them, jealous of their relationship as he skimmed through the pages of the book that Rahim had given him, saying they were necessary for someone who would be the next sultan.

I jerked back when our mothers rushed into the room, hugging us all and kissing our cheeks. They ignored our demands to tell them what happened while I begged them not to leave, no voice coming out of my mouth. They couldn’t hear me as they said their goodbyes, promising me to take care of my family before leaving.

I tried to hold their hands, stopping them but it went right through them. The room was changing as I started falling down, only to land in the shadowy halls of the Court Room. There, on the throne, my father’s figure was hunched over the arms, his sobs echoing in the empty room. I looked again. It wasn’t empty.

Two coffins were open, the bodies of my mothers covered in white sheets.

Bile rose in my mouth as I backed away, glaring at the man who cried for them.

“You don’t deserve to mourn over them!” I shouted, rage pouring out of me. “You killed them. Mentally and emotionally, before they died in that stupid plane crash. You could have stopped them from going to London, but you were too busy giving us one of your lessons. I hate you.” I landed on my knees, tears gleaming in my eyes.

“I wish I had killed you.”

I floated once again, my eyes adjusting to the horror of that night. The night that still haunted me and my siblings.

But it wasn’t Khalid pushing a sword through my father’s body.

It was me, my own hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword, my eyes widening as I pushed the sharp end through Nasrin’s chest. Her deep brown eyes were wide with shock, tears sliding down her pale cheeks.

“No, no, no, I didn’t…” I shuddered, trying to pull back the sword, but I kept pushing, the golden gown covered in blood red. “Please, no!”

Her cold fingers touched my cheek, my body freezing at her touch. Her skin was no longer golden, it was ashen. It looked brittle. In a raspy voice, she whispered, “I told you not to force me into this marriage, Zain. Look what you have done.”

I yelled for help, Zara and Khalid shaking their heads at me, looking disappointed as they turned around and walked out of the room. I cried, trying to hold onto Nasrin’s body when she fell down on her knees, her hand dropping from my cheek.

“This is the curse of our family, boy,” Salman Al Latif said as he sat in the armchair of his room, watching me breathe air into her mouth, pumping her heart. “You will be the reason for her death.”

“No!” I bellowed. “I am nothing like you. I won’t kill her. I won’t ever—”

“I was the reason behind your mothers’ death, child. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, little Zain. You are just like me. A monster—”

A loud gasp broke me out of the spell. My eyes widening as I blinked rapidly and looked at my surroundings. I was in my room. There was no one sitting in the armchair by the window. I was alone.

Sitting up, I wiped the tears from my cheek and ran a hand through my hair. Another nightmare. Only it was worse because I killed Nasrin in it. Taking a shaky breath, I swallowed two glasses of water and wiped down sweat from my chest, removing my tee shirt.

I had to sleep on the other side of the bed because it was covered in my sweat, counting numbers in my head and wishing that I would get a couple hours of sleep before dawn. Without any nightmares plaguing me.

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