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Sheikh Khalid bin Aaban reclined on the sofa in the spacious living room with his feet propped up on a low stool, his head leaned back against the head rest, his hands crossed over his abdomen, his breathing calm and even and his eyes were closed but he was well awake and well aware of what went on aroung him, his ears picking up every sound of movement around him. It had been almost a month since the failed attack on the palace and on the King's life and each time he he remembered it, he became bitter. 

For seven years they had gathered, for seven years they had met and for seven years they had planned and all their sacrifices for Prince Aazim had now been all in vain, their efforts had crumbled down hard and Khalid couldn't exactly place the blame on any one. Since the death of Aazim which Khalid knew had been his son's doing, the rest of the members had not met as every man feared for his life and Prince Aazim's palace in Riyadh had been abandoned and forgotten. Khalid st
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