Royalty Gone Bad novel Chapter 63

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Writer’s POV:

While the Prince, Djafar and Saïda dozed off, resting from their trip, the palace was busy. Maids and servants walked up and down to prepare the meals and arrange the long dining table for the 10-20 guests that would be present. It was something private with just nobles and close family friends.

That night would be a very special one to welcome the Prince.

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Asahd’s POV:

“Mmm,” I stirred and stretched in the soft sheets. I felt so good! It felt like I hadn’t slept very well in months.

“We’re gonna be together for as often as possible, honey,” I said sleepily, speaking to my comfy pillow and hugging it tight. I wasn’t going to lie, I’d missed my bed so bad.

After tossing uselessly in bed for a few more minutes, I sat up and buried my face in my palms, waiting for my vision to adjust.

′Saïda.′

Her name popped into my head immediately and I sighed, rubbing my arms as goosebumps covered them. I turned and stared at my bed.

’I hope to share this bed with her. Even if it’s for a night.

No. maybe forever?′

I covered my face again and groaned in frustration.

Just then, there was a knock at my door.

“Yes?”

The door was opened and a maid stepped in. Salma. I felt a little awkward because she was one of the maids I’d flirted with a little or had asked to massage me.

′I am a jerk. Why did I do that? Now I feel ridiculous.′

“My Prince,” she smiled and blushed, curtseying. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Salma.”

“The guests will soon be arriving. The sultan and Queen have requested that you be ready in an hour’s time.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

She smiled again, curtseyed and turned to leave.

“Um, Salma?” I called without thinking and when she turned, I was almost speechless.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“Uh, I want to apologise for my past behavior and the inappropriate attitude I exercised.”

I was back to the formal type of talking. Whenever back in Zagreh, I started speaking that way almost automatically.

“Forgive my manners and every inappropriate favor I have ever asked you. If I offended you in anyway, pardon me.”

The girl seemed surprised and a little amused.

“There’s no harm, my Prince. I was never offended and never will be. You’re the Prince and your every wish is my command,” was her casual reply.

I was a little confused but oh well, as long as she wasn’t offended.

“Fine then. Thank you for clarifying that to me. You may return to your duties, Salma.”

She smiled and bowed her head before leaving.

“Phew,” I got out of bed and stretched. Next up, I undressed and went to shower.

I entered my huge bathroom and I was so happy. I smiled like an idiot.

“I missed all of you!” I chuckled, referring to the huge shower cabin, the huge bathtub at the center, a little Jacuzzi tub in a corner, the lifesize mirror on the wall, the sink, the urinal sink, my sweet and PERSONAL toilet seat. All painted gold. The marble floor was purple and the walls were designed with ancient drawings. There were oxblood, thick velvet curtains hanging from the windows that made the room dark and so I had to switch on the lights. There was a huge painting of a lady in a corner, a book shelve with all types of novels and books. I sometimes read those while in the jacuzzi or tub.

“It feels good to be home,” I said happily.

I turned to the lifesize mirror and looked at myself from head to toe.

“I didn’t lose much weight after all,” I mused.

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After a fresh shower, I left the bathroom and went straight into my dressing room. It was as big as my room back in New York and full of all my clothes and shoes.

′It feels real awkward. I’m glad I learnt my lesson and I have to appreciate every single thing I have.′

I thought, touching some of my tuxedos. When I looked at all the designer shoes and ties, I actually had goosebumps.

“And I was taking all these for granted,” I muttered, feeling like an idiot. “Like I was supposed to have them. While some don’t even have what to eat, wear or where to stay.”

I swallowed, remembering a dumb instance of months back before I was sent to New York. A servant had mistakenly touched my suit with a dirty sauce spoon. My reaction had been foolish. I got angry, went upstairs, changed and asked that the stained suit be thrown away. Something I could’ve washed myself.

Every two months, I would add at least twenty more tuxedos, shoes, traditional men wear and shoes to my dressing room. Just because I was a show off and hated repeating an outfit, twice.

I shook my head and tried to forget the annoying thoughts.

“Time to get ready,” I grabbed an outfit and some shoes. “These would be okay.”

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Saïda’s POV:

I’d finished dressing up and looked at myself in the mirror.

I smiled, happy that I was back. I wore a simple dress and some sandals. Nothing too impressive. I didn’t wear makeup either. Back to my natural way of being. I was happy. Happy because Noure’s parents were invited and I knew he would definitely follow them.

“You done?” my father asked, fixing his coat.

“Yes, father.”

“Okay. Go get the Prince. The guests are already here and seated at the table,” my father said.

I’d completely forgotten that I was still the Prince’s personal assistant and adviser. I had to be with him always whenever there was a ceremony.