Fortune Favors the Cursed
the-reticent-seer
diverselit
diverselit
1.3K5
An orphan girl with questionable morals. A scarred prince with two lives. One relic to change their world.
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Badriya As-Sahra is sick of piling up camel dung and ...Chapter 24
There was a reason why Ayaz didn't love his life in the palace.
Other than a certain person that loathed him to death, Ayaz wasn't fond of the trouble that came with his title. The boring meetings with high-profile men who spoke of empty promises, the lonely atmosphere that the palace had all the time. The empty part of himself that his mother left ever since her passing.
In the palace's pristine walls, there was nothing but nothingness that filled everything in between.
And then there were the banquets.
To say that he didn't love them was nothing compared to the ill feeling he felt whenever his father held lavish feasts to flaunt whatever he wanted to show to people. Everything about those parties was fake. From the smiles that showed too many teeth, to the greetings that were thrown around as if they were sand, Ayaz hated all of it. If he could, he would kill everyone that gave him those stupid grins or foolish wishes.
A crowd of dressed-up women flocked to him the moment he entered the palace's reception area. The place, which usually had many majlis and few to no people, was now filled with steel tables that held foodstuffs from cuisines all over the Pillar Nations. Visitors coming from all over Zecaj and its allies idled around, chatting and eating with everyone else and having a good time.
Well, except for me, Ayaz thought grimly.
Just like the rest of the palace, hanging lamps provided light even after the sun had set. Rare flora dotted every corner of the place, blessing them with their pleasant fragrances and bursts of color. Soft Psamlan rugs ran beneath their feet, which felt like walking on sinking cushions with every step. More gold had decorated the walls than ever before, and Ayaz didn't even think that was possible.
He had to admit, it all looked beautiful to the eye. And the fact that Badriya had prepared it in a few days' time—even less, as he heard—made it even more impressive. Perhaps for once, a celebration like this wasn't so bad—
"Amiri." Fingers snapped in front of him, out of his reverie. "Oi, amiri!"
Ayaz blinked, focusing back on one of the women ogling him. "Huh?"
The lady batted her lashes. "Has anyone told you how handsome you are?"
"Of course everyone tells him that! And he already knows it!" Another woman pushed the first one aside, then turned to him with a wickedly sweet smile. "Amiri, I know these other girls are too shallow for you. Why don't we go somewhere quiet and perhaps. . . talk?"
Ayaz wore a cold expression. "No, thank you. I'll be going to the tables to taste a few things."
"Oh? I'm in the mood to eat as well!" The girl trailed her fingers toward his neck, teasing him. "Let me help feed yo—"
"That won't be necessary," he interrupted. "I don't wish to gag my food out to your mouth."
Ayaz turned away before he could hear her grumble a complaint or burst into tears. Women. He shook his head. Why did all of them always want to seduce him when they knew he'd turn them down anyway? It was one of the many mysteries he couldn't understand.
Well. . . not everyone.
Across the room, Badriya weaved through a crowd of guests that greeted her. She wore a dress that was similar to the last one Ayaz saw her in, except this time, it was a combination of pink with traces of green. She greeted the people back with a cheerful smile on her face. She shook hands with some, hugged others, and patted the rest on their backs.
She looked so natural. Bearing that smile, that is. It fit her so well, it made her glow as bright as the moon on her face.
Just as Ayaz thought of approaching her, his eyes narrowed. He didn't notice it before, but a man a head shorter than Badriya followed her from behind, grinning widely as he greeted people too. The white and gold tunic and sirwal he wore were almost an exact replica of Ayaz's.