Chapter 8

The next morning.

Laila woke up to the sounds of her little brother.

She opened her beautiful eyes gently.

The guard accompanying her brother swallowed his breath, but he didn't dare say a word.

Laila was famous for catching the bloody prince's attention.

He looked away while opening the cell. He didn't want to be a headless corpse.

Amine jumped on his sister to hug her.

"let's go eat."

"Alright alright," she said with a smile.

He held her hand, walking her out they met with Aaliyah who waited for them.

The male knight bowed and left them under her care.

"Laila," said Aaliyah with a warm smile.

"How are you?"

"I am doing good. I hope it wasn't too rough on you in that cell. After tonight you will have a dorm only for you."

Laila nodded but she still wanted to ask. "Why?"

"Your people will be living in dorms. Since your role in dancing is bigger it's only natural for you to get special treatment."

"Hmm," she nodded again and followed her alongside her little brother after putting a veil on her face.

Laila soon joined her family.

She couldn't run away from her mother's questions and overthink again.

Thankfully Laila covered up the truth calming her mother in the end.

The chief sighed hearing his daughter's words.

They were all really worried about her even when they were reassured by the knights.

Laila then spent the day helping her mother with the chores.

Suddenly Aaliyah came to her when the sunset and the daylight started fading.

She stood far away from the group.

Laila noticed her staring from far away.

She clenched her teeth.

But she changed her expression hastily, afraid of her mother noticing anything.

"Mother," she spoke softly as she stood up, "I shall leave to see the room assigned to me.

Her mother looked at her for a moment and stopped talking with the other women.

She held Laila's cheeks with her hands, giving her a heartwarming smile.

"Alright, darling. Please, be safe."

Laila smiled back, kissed her mother's forehead, and left.

Her mother, Omaya, was left staring at her back, while the women chatted behind.

Laila followed Aaliyah's steps.

"You are incredible," said Aaliyah.

"Don't put down the standards of the word."

Aaliyah chuckled. "A humble one, aren't you." Her eyes grew serious. "But I can see it, the change in you. If I can, that means his majesty can."

Laila was still staring ahead of her. "That would save me the trouble."

Aaliyah smiled. "Whatever it is I wish you luck."

Laila sighed. "Thank you, for everything."

The rest of the walk was quiet.

Aaliyah took her to a room. Opening the door for her.

It was full of dresses like what Laila wore last time.

Laila stared at them for a moment.

"And whom will I be dancing in front of this time?"

"Only his highness, the first prince."

Laila didn't say a word anymore.

She walked up to the middle of the room, checking the dresses one by one.

She looked at Aaliyah through the side of her eye. Then to the other door in the room.

"I guess I will be entering this door?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"I was told whenever you were ready. But, don't take long."

Laila then nodded silently.

She took a deep breath.

"It's okay. You can go. I need some time alone."

Aaliyah looked at Laila's back.

She wanted to be by her side till the last moment.

"Okay. I will be outside. Be safe, Laila."

"Hmm." She hummed.

She smiled lightly and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Laila was left alone.

Her eyes were on the dresses but her mind was wandering somewhere else.

She slowly woke up from her thoughts, sighing.

Suddenly her eyes fell on a dress.

She was once again lost in her thoughts.

She grinned, but she was laughing at herself. As if she was starting to lose all reason.

She walked up to the dress.

Running her hands on its silk.

Her eyes slowly became cold.

"This will do," she spoke clenching her teeth.

She was determined.

---

She raised her beautiful hand. Her tall and pretty fingers fell on the handle.

She turned it, opening the door gently.

Her soft and gentle naked feet took the first step into the room.

The ankle bracelets worn on her appealing ankles rang lightly.

The prince was sitting on a couch.

His back faced against her.

The stage was in front of him.

On his neck was a broad necklace that was made of jewelry.

On his big upper arms, armlets of gold and fine design.

His upper body was naked.

His legs were covered with a soft white robe.

His long fingers filled with rings.

The room was silent.

The sounds of her steps gave the room life.

She walked past him.

Not giving him a look.

Nor did he raise his eyes to look at her walking by him.

She stepped on stage. Her eyes still looking down at the ground.

She didn't raise them, nor did she speak a word.

Waiting.

Quietly.

The first prince raised his glass, gently playing with the drink in his hand.

He raised it to his mouth, his fingers holding the tip of the glass.

His lips were placed on its golden pattern.

His cold eyes slowly raised to look at her.

The room's temperature lowered all of a sudden.

His face darkened.

She was still looking down.

The sound of his glass placed on the table reached her ear.

Silence.

She felt his gaze.

His eyes fell on her golden-toned body.

She was wearing a moonlight grey dress with a thigh-high slit, showing her long and attractive legs, barely covering the shape of her round bottom.

This wasn't in the dressing robe. She cut it.

His eyes followed to her naked curvy hips, slender waist, and belly bottom with the fine line of her abs wrapped with the golden strings of her top.

It was covering her well-endowed bosom. Her elegant shoulders and long arms held to her white cloud capes.

His eyes rose to her visible, desirable collar bone, her luscious dark hair falling on her graceful neck.

She didn't have her veil on her.

A slim jawline, plum red lips, soft cheeks and sharp cheekbones, small well-shaped nose.

Her curly eyelashes, her beautiful eyes highlighted with makeup below her sharp and arched black eyebrows.

She slowly raised her eyes.

Her sparkling, hazel eyes.

She met his cold dark eyes on her.

She didn't say anything, slowly raising her leg from the slit of her dress.

Her toes were gently placed in front of her.

There was no instrument here.

And there will be none, other than her anklets and bracelets that rang whenever she moved.

She raised her hands above her head.

Her top rose with her, showing more of her hips and skin.

Her naked armpits stretched gorgeously.

Her fingers drew a beautiful pattern.

She turned her head to the side, fully showcasing her sublime neck.

Remaining in that beautiful position, like a statue of the goddess of love and lust.

She slowly moved her legs and her hands.

The chains started singing.

She started dancing.

Stepping on the floor, waved her hands from side to side, dropped low with her dress, and threw her head back.

Stood up soaring in the air. Landing effortlessly to a series of spins. Dancing to her rhythm.

Her heart started beating faster. Her breath hastened. Her foot tapped to the growing beat, while her elbows followed.

She danced her heart out.

All those emotions she piled up for all these years.

Whether it was the emptiness of her heart, the anxiousness, and the worries she had whenever she went out.

The warmth of her body survived the lust of others' eyes.

The lack of trust she felt towards everyone around her. Others assume that she was already far too blessed with riches to get hurt, being on the receiving end of remarkable cruelty.

The expectations and beliefs of each one of them weighed so heavily on her shoulders.

She let all of it out.

Her vision started blurring out as her eyes were tearing up. She kept dancing, breathing heavily and strongly. Moving her legs in swift motions around the stage.

Her feelings submerged. Every last drop of them.

She made up her mind before coming to this room. But now even more. If being this beautiful and desirable was such a double-edged sword she would sharpen it well. She will use it wisely. She will use it to her advantage. And this would be the first time.

The rhythm kept rising in her heartbeat.

Growing in momentum.

All, to a sudden halt.

She was left breathless, in the middle of the stage. Her hands stretched out, with the white capes gently falling from her fingers. Her robe fell from the air.

She was panting.

She gently straightened herself.

She was looking down, and slowly raising her head to look at him, who didn't take his eyes off her, nor did he stop drinking.

She met his calm half-dead eyes.

Still, no expression.

But no, she didn't feel bad this time.

She also stood there, with a cold face.

"You can leave," he spoke coldly, his hand that held his cup seemed to be shaking.

She bowed slightly. "Yes, your majesty." And walked down the stage.

She walked to the door.

She halted all of a sudden.

She could feel and hear his heavy breaths.

He was standing right behind her.