Please, do let me know how you feel about it. The fascinating introduction that is. Stay tuned for more updates.
The sun has been bidding its adieu. The last flickering rays scatter over the sky in a shade of tangerine with patches of deep crimson tiny bits. The faint outline of a glorious full moon peeps from the heavy cloud, struggling to prove its existence before the stubbornly fierce sun. Still, the careless wind is soothingly freezing. Despite it being a calm day, it does nothing to soothe the raging tornado swirling ferociously within me. My hands are still shivering from the after-effects. What now? The question has been bothering me for more than twelve hours. The faint sensation of a coming headache thrashes my temple. The lack of an answer thereof is riling me up. I am not only restless, I feel instead…well what was it that the birdbrained royal teacher used to address me at every petty mistake. I have endured endless trauma in learning it, I ain’t missing what might be the only chance to use it. It started with F–nope, not the censored words, dirty souls. It went like…flocci
Light. Bright. Shimmering delight. It is all I saw as soon as I stepped in there with Sierra and Lily on their toes, trailing close by. 'Umm…this place is…' Sierra's voice trails off in the background. Her struggle to grasp appropriate vocabulary is evident and so is the nervousness on the surface. There is something about the place that spreads a negatively dark vibe. I cannot exactly put a finger on it but it is there. On the surface, away from the eyes!If we had thought that we had seen it all in the past three years, we have much more to come. There are disgusting truths and unbearable realities that are still there to unfold—stories I have never imagined even in my worst nightmares. But shriek in the walls of Khanum. My newly skilled analytical brain does not take long to examine that all of it can lead us to a dead end. 'There are many more tales of miseries and arm-twisting constraints in the Duong that are being sung in silence, yet the sonnet of Khanum pierces the loud e
‘Tonight's treat on me.’ Sierra whops flashing her recently acquired wealth under my nose. She twerks her posterior in a way that would have given her late husband, King James, a heart attack and her mother-in-law, I bet, might have drawn a scream so loud, it would have echoed all the way to the Taksh Pack at how unacceptable and inappropriate it has been. I bet the patriarchal charter would have some clause to restrict wiggles of certain body parts concerning females too. I just don’t remember any of it at the moment but there has to be something about it. You would never. Sleeping in the Jurisprudence and General Law classes have its own benefits, your highness. Ella yawns in my head. Damn it! I really don’t get my destiny. How fortunate I am to have a perfectly snarly bitch feasting on dead meat to be my eternal companion. Things do get better for the worse. Isn’t it? ‘You got the bonus. Didn’t you?’ Julie narrows her glittering blue eyes infinitely. For a stranger or onlooker,
The Phoenix Citadel is where elites eat, treat, party, shop, and relax while they stay in Duong. A magnificent white property near Seoraksan Hill, Phoenix, if not heaven, it is closest to the heaven that the labour class of Duong have. But… ‘I don’t think it’s anything extraordinary to be honest. I think it’s overrated.’ I speak, headless of the audience. ‘In fact, I find remarkable resemblance between this place and the opera house in the northern-region of Cercenoni. You remember the ancient Manor cum museum on the hill?’ I wash my mouth with the vine and wipe the wetness away with a tissue. Stretched over three acres, it is sparkling white with golden rims, a grandeur fountain, and a cluster of imperial palm trees to fence all of its fronts. It’s a niche, vandalising expensive, and has been a dream destination for staff of Khanum like us. And if I’d be honest, I have never imagined myself sitting in this regal estate if it were not for Sierra’s treat for the time being. It
I’m fucked. Freaking screwed! Hurry, Code Yellow. Code Yellow everyone. I send the message and impatiently wait for the reply while tapping the footpath with my toe. I sneak glances at Ishit’s back and heave a breath I did not know I am holding. Fortunately, I do not have to wait for long. My phone pings an incoming text almost instantly. With a peep at the screen, I find it to be from Sierra—my saviour who does not wear underwear on top of her polka dot pyjamas. She wears it in the manner it should with no quilt tied around her neck. Sup Bitch? It reads. Yeah, what are you up to? Getting laid already? He isn’t using protection? Want to marry you off already? Wolves are super clingy, I am telling you. Julie rambles unfiltered. Honestly, I expect as much from her. She is sort of an over-enthusiastic overthinker type. Before I could answer, another text pops in. I told you to invest in some undergarments and a SHOWER! Now he will see your Doraemon undies and think you are a freakin
‘I…Umm…’ I fidget with my fingers nervously, using my long tresses to veil my flustered face. Damn, you! Stop staring at me with those hypnotising eyes. Your beautiful eyes do funny things to me that are not beautiful. They make me think things I should not be thinking. They make me…dream and I don’t want to dream. I cannot afford them. My truth is ugly. It’s unbearable. I need lies. Yes! A fresh lot of lies can be covered up for romantic bullshit. Get a grip on yourself, Lizzy. I curse under my breath. ‘At least let her sit in first, Ibh–Sir. You can talk on the way. Please, Ma’am.’ The driver motions me towards the backseat with a practised bow and a stretch of his hand. His puffy eyes gleam with amusement. A lopsided grin plays on his face. My cheeks catch a darker shade of pink at the realisation. I have been sandwiched between two divine existences of glamour and masculine temptation which makes me wonder—how long has it been since I have copulated? More than three years, eh?
‘Another Left, you said?’ Kavish asks the third time, peeping at me through the rear-view while my brain is still weaving through the endless number of faces I might have seen in my life. None resembles his. And it is exhausting for me. I could not figure out his identity. Surely, he cannot just be a bodyguard to the hunk licking ice-cream from his fingers innocently oblivious to the sensation he is leaving in my p****y. Newspapers? Tabloid? Billboard? On a condom pack? The misty green eyes rake over me rather suspiciously. And what have I, your royal highness, done to earn the glances? It’s a long story and may have everything to do with the amount of lefts I have been telling him to take from the past ten minutes or something. Where do those lefts take me? I don’t bloody care. ‘Besides. Nothing is ever right in my life. Why refrain myself from taking all the wrong lefts.’ I mumble under my breath not loud enough for either of them to hear it. The icecream is over—mine is—becau
A diminishing fireball peeps from the dark adamant cloud. It struggles to make its appearance once in a while and gives up when the heavy clouds deny giving way. The air is soothingly chilly and so is the rainy climate. Duong is drenched with occasional drizzles accompanied by heavy downpours. Alongside ferocious thunder and reckless wind echoed high notes and beats in the surrounding neighborhoods, scaring away the flying creatures. The master at the piano is an aged expert who has witnessed and survived more monsoons than there are creatures on the planet; the neverending Daeyang. The vastness of the ocean resembles a ballerina twirling in delight. It moves in synchronisation with nature posing challenges to the vessels struck in its belly. Sometimes it would engulf the vessels in its long, wet arms from all sides and sweep the crews across one edge of the board to another, earning curses and shrills of protest over its mischief. Other times, it would melt into jelly and swin