Sweet Obsession
Page 6
Almost immediately, I noticed this was not the same village I had visited before. Nothing here looked familiar as I walked down the empty, cobbled streets. The shops were closed, and the streets were deserted. I looked around, and a lump formed in my throat. Teary-eyed, I continued walking through the neighborhood and realized I had made a mistake in coming here.
I gazed along the path that led to another part of the village. I was getting a little nervous now. This part of the neighborhood did not look as inviting as the other side. The homes looked run-down and unkempt. A bad stench was coming from the side of the street that looked like an alley. Garbage was everywhere, and the torches were few. I slowly turned and walked the other way, hoping to find refuge before bedtime. As I walked closer to the nicer homes, the smell of fresh-baked bread filled my nostrils, and I wavered with hunger as my stomach growled, reminding me that I had not eaten a single thing today.
I debated if I should knock on someone’s door, and I realized I might be recognized and taken back to the palace. My shoulders slumped as I walked away from the village and headed back on the dirt road from which I had come. The moon was full tonight, and that gave me a little guidance. Feeling hungry, thirsty, and tired, I pulled off the dirt road, found a tree, and dropped beneath it. This would make a good sleeping ground until morning.
Not that I had another choice, I thought dryly as my eyelids closed and I fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Three
Loula
In the morning, I felt something nibbling at my nose, and I immediately opened my eyes and screamed. I stared at my attacker. The little lamb looked at me with big, black eyes, startled as much as I was. Relieved that it was not someone or something that threatened my life, I slowly stood up and looked around for its owner. And sure enough in a distance, I saw him. The shepherd, a thin, young lad, was coming my way, and behind him followed a small herd of sheep.
The young man, who did not look a day older than twenty years of age, walked up to me, smiled, and asked, “What is your name, my lady?”
“Nadia.” I quickly answered. I could not tell him my real name.
The young man bowed before me, allowing his hair that was pulled back in a ponytail to sway forward as he introduced himself.
“My name is Abdul,” he said.
“What are you doing out here by yourself? Where is your chaperone?” He looked around suspiciously with his big, black eyes.
“I do not have one. I am all alone,” I said too quickly without thinking. What if he alerted the villagers and they seized me and took me as a prisoner? I feared the worst.
“My lady, I will tell no one you are here. Please do not fear,” he said innocently enough.
“Can you please help me, lad? I am lost and hungry, and I am scared.” I hoped he would come to my aid.
It only took Abdul a few minutes of thinking before he announced cheerfully, “Well, you can come home with me. My mother and I hardly ever have visitors, and I know my mother would be delighted to meet you.”
I believed him. His proposal sounded very inviting. They have no idea who I am, so they will not alert the palace.
So I eagerly accepted his invitation. Besides, had I not accepted, there was nowhere else for me to go. I followed Abdul as he herded the sheep toward his home. From a distance, I saw the little shack they called home. It was very small but looked warm and inviting. I waited patiently for Abdul to bring all the sheep to the stable, and then we went inside his home.
His mother greeted us at the door with a welcoming smile, exposing crooked, decayed teeth as she stepped aside for us to enter. Her gray eyes sparkled with curiosity as she closed the door and walked up to me. Her long, thick braid that hung low beneath her waist swayed as she tipped her head to the right and checked me out from head to toe.
Nervously, I threw her a smile and said, “Hello, my name is Nadia.”
Abdul’s mother wiped her hands on her worn-out apron, took my hands in hers, and held on to them. She seemed pleased that I was in their home.
“Please sit and break bread with us. We do not have much, but what the good Lord has given us, we will share with you.” She gently pulled me to the wooden table in the middle of the tiny room and motioned for me to sit.
Not wanting to offend her in any way, I pulled out the wooden chair and sat on it. I looked around the small room and noticed it was almost bare of furnishings. There was a table with three chairs and two beds, one on each side of the room. There was a woodstove to cook on and a sink with the only window in the room above it, which was decorated with an old, cotton curtain. They did not have much, but they seemed like good people.
After washing his hands, Abdul helped his mother set the table. A hot bowl of potato soup and a slice of freshly baked bread was placed in front of me, and there was a slice of cheese and a glass of milk too. I devoured everything. I was starving. I sat quietly at their table while mother and son ate their food in silence, and when they were done, Abdul’s mother removed the dishes from the table and dumped them in the sink. Abdul sat proudly in his chair, smiling at me.
The day wore on with the three of us sipping tea and listening to Abdul’s mother telling us tales from long ago. Her words fascinated me. Clearly, she enjoyed telling her colorful stories, and she had us captivated as we gave her our undivided attention. I did not even notice that the sun had gone down and that it was almost time for dinner until Abdul announced that he was going to the stable to check on the livestock while his mother quickly busied herself with dinner preparations.
The table was set once again with the leftover potato soup and a repeat of everything else we had had for lunch, and it really did not matter to me because, by this time, I was starving again. Anything that was edible was just fine with me. We ate our dinner, and though it wasn’t much, it was tasty. I was grateful for everything that Abdul and his mother offered me.
When we were done and everything was washed and put away, Abdul’s mother smiled at me. “You look tired, my child. Would you like to rest now?” she asked politely.
I was very tired, and I nodded my head. “Thank you kindly. Yes, I am tired, and I would like to rest.”
Immediately, Abdul stood. “Nadia, you can sleep on my bed. I can sleep on the floor by the fireplace,” he chimed happily.
His mother quickly added, “Son, get the pillow from my bed and give it to Nadia. I do not need it tonight.” And she turned with a smile and looked at me sweetly. “We are happy you have come to our humble home. Sleep now, my child. Rest your body, and God be with you,” she said sincerely and hugged me. Then she turned, walked to the other corner of the room, and lay in her bed.
Abdul gave me his mother’s only pillow and bid me good night, and he walked over to the fireplace, dropped on the floor, and slept on some blankets. I was feeling uncomfortable that I had the only pillow of the house, but I had no other choice. I did not want to disrespect them by not accepting their hospitality. So I lay in the bed, and I fell asleep almost immediately.
Early in the morning, I awoke to find the brilliant sunlight shining its way through the window. I looked around the room and noticed I was all alone. I got out of bed, walked over to the door, and swung it open. I found Abdul and his mother doing the outdoor chores, and when they noticed that I was looking at them, they smiled and waved. These people didn’t have much material stuff, but they were loaded with other things that were more important, like love and kindness.
The day wore on. I helped Abdul with the rest of the chores, and his mother went inside to prepare something for us to eat. I was happy and felt serenity here. My mind relaxed, and I was at peace with myself. Thoughts of Nidal crept into my mind, but I quickly pushed them away.
Today, we had fried eggs, fried potatoes, and fresh bread. I was famished and sat down eagerly to eat. Abdul placed a glass of milk in front of me, sat down wit
h his mother, and joined us. The conversation went smoothly at the table, and I was beginning to feel at home. But I knew that I had to pull my weight if I stayed here another day. After much deliberation, they finally agreed with me and gave me a task that I thought was easy enough. Abdul showed me the garden in the back of their home, and I was to fill up the basket I was given with vegetables. I plucked all the ripe veggies and skipped back inside the shack to show Abdul’s mother. She told me to wash them and place them on the table, where she had placed a clean cloth napkin.
“This, my dear child, is our meal for tomorrow,” she said cheerfully. And then her eyes filled with tears as she stared at me. “Nadia, forgive me. I do not mean to cry, but you remind me of my daughter. She died of the plague many years ago,” she said sadly. “The same disease claimed my husband as well and left Abdul and me to fend for ourselves. We do not have much, but at least we have each other. Abdul is a good boy, and he provides for me. I just love him so much.” She wiped her tears with her apron.
I walked up to her and gave her a bear hug. I felt sorry for her. She was a good person, and life was not fair to her. Thus, our relationship started and blossomed into a beautiful friendship.
As the days flew by, thoughts of Nidal were torturing my heart. I missed him tremendously and knew not what to do. On the one hand, I felt comfortable around these people who already felt like family to me, but at night when I lay myself down to sleep, my mind wandered to Nidal, and my heart broke in two. I cried myself to sleep every night and prayed I would be in his arms again one day. But I knew it was too soon. Only time would heal our wounds and allow us to start over again.
Chapter Four
Loula
Many days later, early in the morning, Abdul and his mother were outside taking care of the chores. I was deep in thought as I was sweeping the kitchen floor and did not hear the commotion outside. Suddenly, the door burst open, and I looked up, startled to find Nidal standing in the doorway. My heart pounded loudly in my ears as I froze and stared back.
I saw the raw emotions that played on Nidal’s face. First, there was surprise. Then relief. And then pure love was written all over his handsome face.
But quickly it changed to anger as his jaw clenched shut. He marched right up to me and barked, “Madam, have you any idea what you have put everyone through these last two weeks? Have you any idea the humility we have suffered because of your selfish acts?”
I looked at him with disbelief. How dare he throw his words around as if I had done him wrong when he had tore down what we once shared! His gaze swept the room as if he expected an answer. His face looked more mature with tiny fine lines on his forehead I had not seen before, and it looked as if he had not shaved in the two weeks that I was gone.
“Well, are you going to talk, or are you going to stay silent and admit to treason?” he sneered.
He was so arrogant and sure of himself. My eyes were shiny with tears, but I pulled my back straight. With a firm and unwavering voice, I said, “How dare you march in here as if you own the place! How dare you try to scare me into submission! I will not yield to you, Nidal! Go back to where you came from!” I turned my back to him.
Immediately, I regretted everything I had said, but it was too late to take it back. In an instant, Nidal’s hands grabbed me roughly and turned me around. His eyes searched my face. His beautiful lips were tightly closed, and a miserable silence followed.
“That was a very bold statement, my fair lady,” he finally said. “Are you sure it is what you want?” he asked in a dangerously low tone and released me from his iron grip.
I struggled for a reply, but none came. I glanced up at him. My chest tightened. I wanted to kiss his lips so badly, but instead, with a hint of desperation in my voice, I called out his name. “Nidal.”
Nidal was unsympathetic to my feelings. He raised his eyebrow and said coldly, “An answer of yes or no will suffice, Madam.”
In that moment, Abdul’s mother rushed in and fell to the floor at Nidal’s feet and tearfully begged, “Have mercy on the young mistress, my lord. Please do not punish her. She is young and innocent. Punish me instead,” she cried.
The prince immediately lifted the old woman from the floor and gently pushed her to the side. “Women, leave us be.” The whole time, his eyes were not wavering from mine.
The woman left, and Nidal closed the door behind her. He turned his gaze back to me and said roughly, “Well, what will it be?”
I did not like the way he was treating me. He was so arrogant. I pushed past him. I was not about to surrender. But Nidal grabbed me tightly in his hold and pulled me to him. “I will have your answer, Madam!” he said with a rough edge to his voice.
“I will come with you on one condition!” I said angrily.
Nidal lowered his eyebrows and gritted his teeth. He tightened his hold on me and waited.
“You must promise me that you will not punish these good people for harboring me here. They were good to me, and I will feel responsible if your wrath were upon them.”
Nidal threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Madam, you are in no position to be asking for promises. I will do as I see fit. Do not worry. The punishment will fit the crime.” He looked amused.
“Nidal, I will do whatever you say. Please do not harm these good people,” I pleaded.
Without saying another word, Nidal pulled me by the arm and opened the door to the place I had come to love as my home. We walked outside. About twenty guards had traveled with Nidal, and one of them held Abdul captive. His mother was in tears standing next to him. She was murmuring to herself, and my heart went out to her. What crime had they committed to be treated in such a fashion? They are the most decent people I have ever met.
I broke free of Nidal’s grip, knowing that such display in front of his people had consequences. Nidal’s dark gaze measured mine. His frown firmly in place, I knew he was calculating his next move. I had humiliated him, and I knew he would make me pay the price. He took a step closer and barked, “Do not take another step, or I will be forced to take you as my prisoner!”
And I knew he meant every word. It was now his turn to humiliate me. I closed my eyes. My heart betrayed me. Nidal was so close to me that I felt his sweet breath on my face. His scent flooded my senses, making my heart race. His scowl deepened, and he gripped my arm. The contact of his flesh on mine sent ripples of sensation that spilled forth throughout my entire body, and I trembled with desire. I looked at his face and saw a glint in his eyes. He knew the effect he was having on me. It was sweet revenge.
Time stood still. Nidal was contemplating what to do to me. For a moment, I saw lust in his eyes, and I knew he was feeling the same as I was, but I knew more action was required to save face in front of his people. I braced myself and turned my heart to stone to keep it from breaking while Nidal did his job as the crown prince of Arabia. At first he hesitated. His hold on me lightened, and he sighed. I saw many emotions play in his eyes. Then without warning, he thrust me aside and gave orders to his men.
“Take her back to the palace. She is to be locked up in my room without contact from anyone, including the queen. She is a prisoner and is to be treated as such! Do not strike conversation with her. She is conniving and not to be trusted!” he warned.
My heart broke in two at his harsh words. I knew he spoke as such because of his position. He had an audience, and he needed to prove to them that he was strong and that he befitted the role of the next king of Arabia. I looked at him and pleaded with my eyes for his forgiveness. He had to know that I loved him with all my being. He regarded me thoughtfully, but in the end, the crown prince of Arabia prevailed, not the lover who had once warmed my bed at night.
Nidal pushed me harshly toward his men, and a guard pulled me gently in his grip and tied my hands together like a prisoner who was captured while committing a huge crime. I
dropped my head down to my chin, embarrassed by such treatment, and walked away with the young guard. Behind me Abdul’s mother stifled a cry, to which the prince called out, “Silence, woman! I will not have any more tears! Do you hear me?” he barked.
In the distance, I heard Abdul and his mother beg for mercy, and I winced, knowing I had put them in this predicament. Anger set in my heart. Nidal was not being fair. I never knew this side of him. Is this what I have to look forward to if I become his bride? But then I realized that he might not want to make me his bride anymore. Hadn’t he told me that dreaded day that he regretted asking me to marry him? He even called me a tramp! How dare he!
The guard pulled me next to his horse and motioned for me to get on it. With his help, I climbed the horse. He joined me, and we headed toward the palace. I never looked behind me, but I heard the other horses with the guards traveling behind us. In an hour’s time, we reached the palace. I sighed, knowing that everyone would see my tied hands and know the reason behind it. I was helped off the horse and walked with the guards like a prisoner guilty of treason. Such I was to the eyes of this kingdom. But they judged me unfairly. They knew not what lay in my heart.
Everyone at court, including all the servants of the palace, was lined up outside. They were going to make an example of me. I was paraded in front of all the people like a dog. They all stared at me wide-eyed, and I saw pity in their eyes. At the end of the line that stopped in front of the huge palace doors were the king and queen. I dropped my head in shame, unable to look them in the eyes.
“Release her this instant!” cried the queen in a voice full of agony.
“But my queen, we have orders from the prince to treat her like a prisoner. She is to be locked up in her rooms.” He bowed in front of her majesty.