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 32
The other guard rushed towards Badriya, his saif swinging in a wide arc. Badriya pushed the first guard she stabbed aside, then ducked to evade the sword coming at her. The weapon landed on the floor with a loud clang.
She slashed her dagger at the guard's side, but it only bounced back against his armor. He sneered, preparing to strike her again.
Badriya ran.
They had descended somewhere in the palace, but Badriya didn't know exactly where. Her distracted thoughts made her not pay attention. Besides, she didn't have the time to explore the palace's twists and turns. She didn't exactly think that there would come a time when she'd actually need to.
Panting, Badriya darted her gaze at her surroundings. There were two ways to go, both lightened by a few oil lamps. She was nowhere near an open space, like the rooms that faced the gardens or the courtyard. When stomping footsteps sounded not far from her, she quickly went to the left.
Among all the bad decisions she'd ever made in her life, taking that turn was by far the worst.
Half a dozen soldiers blocked her path with half a dozen swords pointed at her. She started to turn back, but a few more guards came, trapping her in the middle.
It was Khuraif all over again. And this time too, she had no choice but to surrender.
The leading guard stalked towards her. He threw her knife away and kicked the back of her legs, forcing her to kneel on the floor. As she let out a pained grunt, he grabbed both of her arms and placed them on her back. Not a moment later, the rough texture of a rope circled her wrists.
"Get up!" the guard barked.
Before Badriya could protest or even move, a pair of hands harshly pulled her by the arms. She hissed in pain, but no one bothered. Two other soldiers pushed her forward, while the rest of the soldiers made way for them.
Eventually, they stopped at an iron-wrought door that creaked open before they could halt. Badriya was forced to walk inside, and upon inspecting the place, she realized that she was brought into a dungeon.
The dungeon had a long, narrow hallway, which was dimly lit by flickering torches on the sandstone walls. They moved past rows and rows of cells. A handful of them contained prisoners—some of them slept on the cold floor while the rest paced and muttered to themselves restlessly. The air was thick with dust and reeked of urine, and even with the torches on the walls, Badriya could hardly see through the gloom.
One of her captors shoved her toward a vacant cell. Badriya staggered, almost bumping into the wall, but caught herself in time. The guard cut her binds before slamming the cell's door shut.
The prison cell was small and cramped, with barely enough space for one person to move around comfortably. It had no furnishing except for a wooden bucket. The door of the cell was made of thick iron bars.
The guards had already left her when Badriya spouted a string of curses that echoed in the tiny cell.
She hadn't done anything wrong, and yet here she was. Did the sultan suspect her of some crime? The guards didn't entertain the questions she screamed at them on their way to the dungeons.
Suddenly, a faint glow appeared in the darkness. For a second Badriya thought someone lit up a flame, but then it shone brighter and brighter until the whole dungeon was flooded with light akin to a star.
The sultan stood waiting for her beyond the metal bars. In his grasp was a familiar jewel. As a cruel smile stretched over his features, her knees began to feel weak.
Badriya clutched onto the bars as if her life depended on it, her knuckles turning pallid. "No. No!"
"So you do know what this is," Shahrayar said in greeting. "I almost wished you didn't, my dear Moon Lady. I would have spared you for your ignorance."