His Revenge

➺Chapter Twenty-Two

➺Chapter Twenty-Two

Zaeem had insisted Aaida not come with him but she hadn't listened to a word he said. The King had invited both of them and it would be rude if one of them didn't show up, especially since he had specifically written her name in the invitation as well. Mahra supported her because she felt if Aaida went out, mingled with other people and had a nice, carefree evening, it would do the girl wonders. Of course Zaeem couldn't refuse when the two ladies of his life ganged up on him like that.

The doctor came to check Aaida's wounds and wrap them up so that she would be more comfortable in her dress. After three weeks of treatment, her injuries were doing very well and had started to close up. Most of her bruises had faded and it was easier for her to walk without feeling a constant stinging due to the lash wounds. Even so, Zaeem didn't want her to overexert herself. Regardless of his anxiety, Aaida insisted that she would be fine.

They were ready to go an hour before the dinner was to start. An authorized car came to pick them up and take them to the selected venue. The cars had been provided by the Dragos family. Having such a party made them vulnerable and only cars/drivers they trusted were allowed to know where they resided. The address to Dragos Manor had never been announced and few knew where it actually was.

Zaeem and Aaida spent the trip in silence. She stared out the window, her dress clenched in her hands, and he tried to think of something to start a conversation with. In this awkwardness, they finally reached the Manor. Zaeem's relief was evident on his face. The chauffeur opened his door and he stepped out of the car first before going to Aaida's side. She emerged from the car and took his offered arm. For the first time that evening, his gaze took in her appearance. In his rush, he hadn't noticed but now . . . she took his breath away.

Dressed in white silk, a diamond circlet around her forehead, her slim fingers showing off the rings he had given her- her poise, elegance and beauty- she may not have known her true lineage her whole life but there was no denying she was a noblewoman just by looking at her.

She hid her pain so well.

If one saw her, they would not have guessed this woman had been raised in a loveless family, neglected by the woman how birthed her, hated by the man who had married her and the cherry on top of all that bitterness- her child had died.

Yet, she showed all the regality of a royal.

When had she grown so much? He could remember when she had been unsure of herself, when she had laughed and smiled in a childish, carefree way no matter what life slapped her with. Now, she was stiffer. More solemn. Reserved.

He wasn't surprised.

"My lady," he couldn't help but address her.

Her eyes snapped to meet his and he saw the ends crinkle slightly as she smiled. "My lord," she replied softly.

"Only by marriage," he said and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

The footmen at the door bowed to them before one of them stepped away from his post. "Sir . . . madam," he nodded at each respectively. "With your permission, I would like to show you to the private sitting room."

Zaeem was confused at his words since he knew parties were usually held in the main ballroom. Nonetheless, he admitted the man to do as he'd asked. The footman led them away from the source of music, laughter and merrymaking and towards the east wing of the large mansion. Aaida's hand tightened around Zaeem's arm and he put his other hand on top of hers, squeezing it to reassure her. They had never done anything to cause the Dragos family to hate or hurt them.

A chill ran down his spine as they grew closer to the private sitting room.

Mustafa.

Had he-?