As Qasim and Abdul Rehman arrived at the healer's chamber, Qasim's condition was dire due to excessive blood loss. Abdul Rehman urged the healer, Please, hurry! He's lost a lot of blood already. Nayab stood beside them, her eyes filled with worry and guilt, thinking that this had happened because of her.
The healer tended to Qasim's wounds, saying, It's best you rest on the bed for a few days. Your shoulder wound is quite deep. Qasim's face fell, his eyes clouding with frustration. He was a man of action, not one to be confined to bed rest.
Abdul Rehman, too, received treatment for his injured hand. Once both were stable, Qasim instructed Abdul Rehman, Take Nayab back to the palace discreetly. Let no one know what happened. I'll join you once I'm able to walk.
Abdul Rehman nodded. Qasim added, Lock those three attackers in my chamber. It's your responsibility to ensure they don't escape. If anyone asks, tell them it was Nayab's order.
Nayab raised an eyebrow. I never gave any such order.
Qasim's gaze locked onto hers. Then you should have. They need to face consequences for their actions. Without your authority, they might escape, and tracking them down will become even more challenging.
Nayab pondered his words, realizing the wisdom behind them. She didn't want her father's wrath, so she penned a letter and sealed it with her royal signet. In case anyone questions you, show them this as proof that the order came from me.
As she watched Qasim, Nayab thought, Some men are strong but lack intelligence, leading to their downfall. However, Qasim is different - intelligent and strategic. My father has been searching for a capable commander, and I believe I've found him - Commander Qasim.
With the letter in hand, Abdul Rehman departed with Nayab, leaving Qasim to rest his anger, vowing to make the attackers pay for their transgressions.
As Abdul Rehman escorted Nayab back to the palace, their steps were swift and cautious. Just as they were about to enter, a soldier appeared, and Abdul Rehman's instincts kicked in. He swiftly pulled Nayab against the wall, his eyes locked intently on the soldier. Nayab's gaze met his worried face, her own concern etched on her features.
As soon as the soldier went away, and Abdul Rehman grasped Nayab's hand, his voice low and urgent. Let's go; he's coming back. This is our chance." He led her into the palace, his urgency palpable as they navigated the corridors.
As they reached Nayab's chambers, Abdullah emerged from the corridor, and Abdul Rehman discreetly positioned Nayab ahead, melting into the shadows to avoid detection. Nayab's composure was flawless as she faced her father.
Abdullah inquired about Qasim's whereabouts, and Nayab fabricated a story about Qasim being tired from their excursion. He's been traveling a lot, Father, and today we went around the city. He was exhausted, so I told him to rest, she said, her voice steady.
Abdullah smiled, kissed her forehead, and told her to rest as well. You're tired too, my child. Get some rest, he said, his affectionate tone a stark contrast to the tension that had gripped Abdul Rehman moments earlier.
As Abdullah walked away, Abdul Rehman seized the opportunity to slip away, evading soldiers as he made his way to the stables. However, he wasn't alone for long. Another soldier stationed there questioned his presence, and Abdul
Rehman cleverly fabricated a story about feeding the horses.
The soldier mentioned the king's celebration, and Abdul Rehman's ears perked up. The king seems particularly happy today. What's the occasion? he asked, feigning nonchalance.
The soldier leaned in, his voice lowering. It's because of a letter from Usman. The king was overjoyed after reading it and decided to hold a grand celebration. Even the soldiers are invited.
Abdul Rehman's curiosity was piqued. He bid the soldier farewell, his mind racing with possibilities. What could be in that letter? And how would it impact their situation?
In the palace, Nayab stood at her window, lost in thought. She caught a glimpse of Abdul Rehman below, and their eyes met in a fleeting moment of understanding. The game of intrigue had begun, with loyalty, duty, and secrets hanging
precariously in the balance.