Isla felt very important all of a sudden and looked at the baby in her mother’s arms. “Will she listen better than I do?”
Rashid laughed, as did her mother and father. “I certainly hope so.”
Eight Years Later….
“Rashid!” Isla yelled out, immediately dropping her pencil to race across the school room, throwing herself into her brother’s arms. “You’re home!” she cried out, excited to see her older brother once again. “I can’t believe you’re finally home!”
Rashid grabbed his sister in a giant bear hug. “I’ve missed you too, brat,” he said with deep emotion. He’d missed home and his sisters, his parents and all the wonderful scents that were co-mingled with his life here in Tasain. He loved this country and his family had always been the center of his life. He was sincerely glad to be back for good this time.
“My turn!” Zarah called out, stomping her foot impatiently when her older sister wouldn’t let go of their brother. “Just because you turned fifteen doesn’t mean you get to hog him all to yourself,” she said, glaring at her sister’s back.
Isla pulled back from her brother and grimaced up at him. “She’s been a beast these past few weeks waiting for you.”
Rashid looked down over his sister’s head and spied the little grouch behind her. “So you’ve been misbehaving, have you?”
Zarah’s face went from angry to horrified in seconds. “I have not!” she gasped. The tears formed in her pretty eyes and Rashid couldn’t take the possibility of hurting her feelings. “I was just teasing, little one. Come here,” he said and bent down with his arms wide open. When her little body hurtled into his arms, he pretended to fall backwards with the impact as she giggled her delight. He wrapped an arm around her back, protecting her as they tumbled to the marble floor and he laughed along with her.
As he looked up, he saw a tall figure glaring down at him and his grin widened. “Hello dad,” he said, not bothering to get up off the floor since the seven year old Zarah seemed to be in no mood to release him. “I can’t move with Zarah on top of me, sir,” he explained.
Majid looked at his oldest, sprawled on the floor with his daughter’s legs straddling his chest. “She does look like quite the victor,” he replied.
Zarah jumped up, grinning from ear to ear and reached her hand out to assist her huge, older brother to his feet. “So I won this round?” she asked excitedly. She’d sparred with her sister on several occasions but never with her brother, although she’d watched him on many occasions during his breaks while sparring with his trainers. Rashid was magnificent as he fought all of them, sometimes more than one at a time. He was slowly learning to best all of them and she cheered him on whenever she was allowed to watch. She’d never beat her sister yet, but there was still time. She had high hopes that she could eventually be skilled enough to best both of them. She might be small, but she knew she was faster than both of them. And she was meaner, she thought to herself.
Isla rolled her eyes and shook her head. “He let you win, silly.”
Rashid winked down at the deflated little girl. “Not true. She won fair and square.”
“Your mother is waiting impatiently for your return,” his father explained with a look that told Rashid that he needed to make haste to his mother’s office or face dire consequences.”
Rashid laughed as he bowed to his father. “I’m positive that she’ll have some sort of horrible punishment if I don’t greet her immediately.” He turned to his sisters. “Will you both come with me?”
The four of them walked down the hallway towards the greenhouse. Sure enough, as soon as Rashid walked through the door, his mother rushed into his arms, but with a great deal more decorum than her daughters. “You’re home! Oh, goodness, it’s wonderful to see you again!”
“Hello, mother,” Rashid said formally, bowing once she’d stepped back.
Lila looked at her oldest child, surveying his appearance to check for any signs of stress or problems. “How have you been? Have you been eating well? Not staying out too late with your rowdy friends from school, I hope?”
Rashid laughed softly and kissed her beautiful, still wrinkle free cheek. “I’ve been well. Have these two rug rats been driving you crazy?” he asked, referring to Isla and Zarah who were standing just behind him.
Lila laughed and shook her head. She opened her arms and both girls came to her side. “Just for the past few weeks waiting for you to finish your final exams and turn in all your papers.” She hesitated for a moment. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be there for your graduation this time,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears.
Rashid shook his head. “I understand, mom. I knew you were there in spirit,” he assured her. He looked down at his sisters. “Besides, these two sent me enough letters so that I got homesick!” he ruffled Zarah’s hair and chucked Isla underneath her chin. Knowing how to get even with them, he teased, “Have you chosen their husbands yet, dad?”
Majid sighed and slumped into a chair. “As if I could!” he stated, exasperation in every syllable.
“Don’t you dare!” Lila admonished, shaking her finger at her husband. “They’re way too young. Let them live a little before they have to deal with the insanity of a husband, or even the prospect of one!”
Majid opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it just as quickly when he saw his wife’s stern gaze. He knew better than to bring up this subject with her. He’d tried on several occasions, explaining that they could form alliances early by simply betrothing the girls to their future husbands while letting them have their freedom now. It was done in every ruling family but she would have nothing to do with it. She’d been his betrothed since birth and it was just a stroke of incredible luck that they fell in love at first site. After meeting her when he was twenty-five, he’d never wanted another woman. She’d been only eighteen at the time, so he’d had to wait another two years before making her his bride, but he’d never regretted a moment of their time together. Now, twenty-six years later, he still loved her just as much as that first day.
“I’m never getting married,” Zarah proclaimed and plopped herself down in one of the brocade covered chairs in her mother’s office, crossing her arms over her chest with an emphatic nod. “Boys are gross.”