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XX Crave The Forbidden
Last Updated:
2025-09-05 02:33:18
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The Rule XXIII The Last Game Played
The games grew fiercer as the days passed, rising from tests of skill to matches edged with blood. On the third day, animals were loosed against men, and the field blazed with raw strength, agility, and hidden talents that belonged more to the battlefield than sport. The crowd roared at every clash, their voices swelling with admiration and fear alike. As always, Queen Inayat and the royals sat upon the dais, watching from their high pavilion. But today, Ayman did not descend to the field. His name was not called, and so he remained seated among them. For Aabroo, it was a secret delight. Her couch had been set beside his—whether by command or by fate, she could not tell, nor did she care. She rejoiced in the closeness, her heart quietly singing. Call her insane, but the smallest nearness made her spirit flutter. She lived on soft, fleeting joys, dreaming her love rather than naming it. She was untouched by the truth of what simmered in Ayman’s head—dark, raw, restless. Still,
The Rule XXII Cruel Lullabies
The field of the royal grounds gleamed under the high sun, its earth leveled and its borders marked with silken banners that fluttered in the late morning breeze. Bright garlands of marigold and jasmine framed the grandstand, and petals floated in the air, sprinkled by eager hands as the royal procession made its way forward. The heralds, clad in scarlet and gold, lifted their trumpets. The long, sonorous notes rolled over the crowd, commanding silence before the first voice rang out with trained authority. “Make way for Her Majesty, Queen Inayat, sovereign of this land!” Cheers rippled across the stands as the queen appeared, radiant in a lehenga of white silk trimmed with gold. The crown upon her brow caught the sun like fire, her presence regal, unshaken, the very embodiment of power and grace. Behind her came Princess Aabroo, soft in shades of rose and blush. Her saree glimmered like dawn itself, and her dark braid, wound with strings of jasmine, swung lightly over her shoulde
The Rule XXI The Eyes
“Lady Aabroo, you’ve been summoned by Her Highness.” Aabroo turned from the mirror, her reflection fading as her hair brushed softly against her back. She adjusted the dupatta across her chest and inclined her head. “Lead the way,” she murmured. The maiden guided her down the marble hall where Queen Inayat awaited to discuss the tournaments she had recently proclaimed in the square through her heralds. Their conversation was brief, Inayat as composed and regal as ever. Once dismissed, Aabroo returned to her chambers—only to find them swallowed in fire. Her heart leapt into her throat. A raw scream tore from her lips as her eyes widened at the sight of flames devouring the walls she had called her own. “Help! Someone—help!” Maids rushed in, their cries echoing through the corridor. Guards followed, and then Inayat herself, her expression tightening in alarm. Last of all came Ayman, his dark gaze sweeping over the chaos. “Put it out—now!” Inayat commanded, her voice sharper than
The Rule XX Crave The Forbidden
The next morning unfurled with the clash of steel striking the air, each blow sending invisible sparks up into the clear blue sky. The court filled with the sound of battle—Ayman locked in combat with his companion-at-arms. His sword, gripped in unwavering steel, moved mercilessly, each strike echoing with a force that demanded submission. Sweat traced glistening beads over his sun-tanned skin, gliding down like molten honey before vanishing into his collar. With eyes fixed, sharp as an eagle’s, he pressed forward, forcing his opponent to yield. One final, ruthless strike sent the man sprawling to the ground with a groan of defeat. Ayman had won. The sword slipped from the man’s hand and skittered across the stone floor. He lay back for a moment, chest rising and falling, eyes closed against the sting of exhaustion. The bout had been fierce. Ayman exhaled slowly, extending his hand. With effortless grace, he helped the man to his feet. As Ayman turned to leave, the man—s
The Rule XIX A Kiss And A Curse
“…your life.” She heard it clearly. Ayman would never ask for anything less. Perhaps it was a test—or perhaps not. Yet she wondered if this was the only proof he would accept, the only coin that could purchase his belief in her love. And him—was he truly testing her? Or was he simply too cruel to accept the truth that she loved him? Behind her, the river whispered against its stones, and the night lay heavy in its silence—dark, endless, merciless. Just like Ayman’s eyes as he asked if she could surrender her life for love. He knew what he demanded was brutal. And yet he asked. The smug curve at his lips faltered the moment he saw her moving back, step by step, toward the river—her gaze never leaving his. Was she truly going to do it? he wondered. And then—she did. The splash tore through the night, and the river swallowed her whole. Ayman’s breath slowed. His heart, always cold, seemed to falter as his eyes fixed on the rippling water. She had jumped. She actually did it.
The Rule XVIII Your Life
For the wedding function, Aabroo adorned herself in a lehenga of white and emerald silk. She stood before the mirror, her eyes tracing the reflection with quiet wonder. A thought flickered through her mind — how would Ayman appear tonight? What colors would he wear? Perhaps green, a lighter shade to mirror her own splendor? The mere thought drew a blush upon her cheeks. Yet she knew him well — he was more of a man of blues and blacks. Then maybe… sea-blue with layers of white or cream? Or perhaps his majesty would shine beneath the radiance of gold… Her daydream dissolved when a soft chuckle echoed behind her. “What are you dreaming of, My Lady? Is it Prince Ayman?” Aabroo’s heart skipped a beat, though her face remained calm — serene as the ocean. “Prince Ayman?” Her voice sharpened ever so slightly. She lowered her eyes to her emerald dupatta edged with gold, her jeweled fingers smoothing the pleats over her chest before fastening them with a gem-studded pin. “And why would
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