Royalty Gone Bad

Chapter 30: 30. His Types

Saïda’s POV:

“Wow. Since you say she’s nice, I do hope they get along quite well,” my father told me that evening

after I’d told him about Allison.

“Me too. Can’t wait for him to come back and tell us how it went.”

“I wonder what she looks like. Asahd is very sophisticated,” Dad mused and I laughed.

“Oh, she’s nothing like his exes. She’s so simple compared to them. She’s as simple as I am.”

“Are you serious?” he asked in disbelief and with wide eyes, making me laugh.

“Yes.”

“It’s hard to believe. I have to see her first,” he chuckled.

Just then, someone unlocked the door from outside and Asahd stepped in. I almost jumped out of my

seat but luckily, some force held me down. That would’ve been awkward as hell. It amused me how

impatient I was to hear how his date went.

“Hello in here,” he smiled and closed the door behind him. We replied and smiled.

“I want to hear details,” my father said before I could, surprising us and making us laugh.

“It went great. Guess I have a girlfriend now?” he mused and joined us.

“No way!” I squealed.

“Tell us everything.”

We listened to him tell us how the night went and how Allison was kinda fun to be with.

“That’s nice. I do hope with time you’ll grow feelings for her too. She seems very down to earth,” my

father said.

“Mmm, we’ll see about that,” Asahd stretched a little and turned to me. “Please, I’m hungry. What I ate

at the restaurant was just to tickle my stomach,” he mused.

“Alright. Lemme warm the food.”

“You’re a darling.”

I stood and went to the kitchen, while still listening to their conversation.

“Do you have a picture of her?” my father asked.

“I think,” he took his phone out and gave it to my dad. I watched my father’s reaction in amusement. He

was about to confirm that Allison wasn’t all artificial and stuff.

“She’s very pretty.”

“Yup,” Asahd took his phone back and stood. “I’m going to shower real quick.”

“Okay,” we both replied.

Once he was gone, I was going to say something but my father spoke first.

“She is so not his type.”

His sentence surprised and amused the hell out of me. I laughed.

“Father!”

“Honestly,” he chuckled. “She is cute and all but she isn’t his type.”

“His type is artificial?” I laughed.

“No, not that. The girls Asahd always invited to the palace and flirted with, were artificial. But realise

something. Those girls were differential from the ones he actually dated, though those relationships

never lasted.”

“Really? They all looked like bimbos to me,” I laughed, stirring the soup.

“The ones he played with, yes. Remember Rama?”

“The girl from Casablanca?”

“Yes. She was very chic. Just like every other girl he’s ever dated. They were all chic. The types that

were really into fashion, but in a decent way. The ones who weren’t seen hanging out in any type of

place or party. The ones who made him look good, you know? Like trophy girlfriends or something. The

types that made other people approach him to compliment their couple. They were all well behaved

and were snobs too. None of them were timid and always told him what they were thinking, yet they

remained submissive to him most of the time. Remember when Amina slapped Asahd in the gardens?

She’d insulted him and called him all sorts of names, not caring if he was royalty or not. Yet, she came

back two or three days later to flatter him and ask for forgiveness.”

I thought of it and realised it was true.

“Oh, that’s true!” I mused. “Now that I think of it. Those girls were like clones of one another. Every

single one that Asahd dated. They all had the same attitude and annoying manners. Once Aisha

tripped by accident and the glass of water she was holding, poured a little. It didn’t even touch Rama’s

feet! Yet, she gave Aisha the ugliest stare and spoke very rudely. Asahd had not done anything about it

and had laughed his girlfriend’s reaction off. That made me dislike him even more! Whenever a

girlfriend of his was being rude to a servant, he would find it amusing and not even defend the person

being attacked. Gosh, I couldn’t bear him!”

“And that’s why I say, Allison has nothing to do with his type. I doubt it will last,” he chuckled.

“Father!” I laughed. “Don’t be so negative. I’m rooting for them.”

“If it does last, it will be a very good thing.”

“Exactly. Let’s keep the faith,” I giggled.

“I’m just happy that he’s changing. I’m seeing the change. It’s gradual and slow, but it’s working. You’re

seeing it too, right?”

“Of course. Proof is, I laugh and sit in the same room with him without wanting to scratch his face,” I

mused and my father laughed.

“True. I was very pleased when the sultan had called me to tell me that Asahd had finally answered his

call and had even apologised to him and the Queen.”

“I know right. And that same night, he apologised to you.”

“He’s on the right track. He’s still a little stubborn and demanding, but he’ll get there soon.”

“Hopefully. I’ll be turning twenty in some weeks and I can’t wait to return to Zagreh, so I finally settle

with Noure,” I smiled to myself, my cheeks reddening.

“Inshallah,” my father said happily. “And so you take over me and I can finally retire in peace. Allah will

take care of everything.”

“Amin.”

We were silent for a while and then he spoke again.

“I hope you’ve not tried to contact Noure.”

“Hahaha, no father.”

′He contacts me instead, so that wasn’t a lie.′

“Okay. Good.”

***

My father waited for Asahd to step out of his room before wishing us a good night and retiring to bed.

“So tell me the crusty details you didn’t say because of my father!” I giggled as we sat at the table.

“I smashed.” Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

My eyes grew wide in shock and my smile faded.

“What?!”

He laughed out.

“Oh, my gawd, you believed that??” he mocked and I suddenly felt stupid. Of course he’d lied.

“You’re terrible.”

“You really think Allison would let me sleep with her, the first night? After telling her I don’t like her yet?

And I don’t even have that in mind for now. Cmon.”

“Great. Cuz she’s so nice and I don’t want you to be a fuckboy with her.”

His eyes grew wide at me, and so did his smile.

“Saïda!” he exclaimed, scaring me a little.

“What?? Something in my hair?”

“Saïda, for the first time ever, you’ve said a really bad word! You just said ‘fuck’! Hahaha! What is New

York doing to you?!”

My cheeks burned and the embarrassment as well as guilt, stepped in.

“Yalah! No! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I buried my face in my palms.

′Oh forgive me.′

“You naughty girl. Very, very bad, little girl," he wriggled his brows playfully and I tried not to burst into

laughter.

“The deed’s been done. Too late. Hehehe,” he teased and picked his fork.

I shook my head in amusement.

“Forget about it, please. Just don’t treat her wrongly.”

“You’re her mother, now?” he teased.

“No, I’m yours. Listen to my words of wisdom,” I laughed a little. His lips twitched in amusement.

“You don’t realise what you just said, huh? Don’t complain when I start calling you, mommy.”

I realised it and covered my mouth in amusement.

“No turning back,” he laughed.

“Well,” I shrugged. “I’m beginning to like how that title, makes me feel,” I wriggled my brows just like he

usually did, teasing him and awaiting his reaction.

I tried not to burst out when his smile faded a little and his mouth dropped slightly open. And then, to

my greatest amusement, he leaned over, his arms resting on the table till he was halfway across. Then

he said,

“Please. I really need to know how it makes you feel,” he chuckled and I laughed.

“You want to hear what I, the good girl, is going to say?” I mused.

“Exactly. Free your mind. Go bad, for once. Say the impossible so a little spice can be added to this

boring life,” he said and we both laughed.

“Okay,” I leaned a little closer and whispered. “It makes me feel–”

“Yess?”

I was a second away from bursting into laughter like a mad person.

“Like I’m fully responsible and a mother of two,” I ended and as expected, his happy expression turned

to a bored and irritated one.

I laughed so hard my ribs started to hurt, and tears rolled down my cheeks.

“You are a turn off. You hear me? A TURN OF! SHAME ON YOU!” he exclaimed in amusement,

leaning back into his chair.

“What did you expect??”

“Spice, you dumbass! Noure is so finished. I feel so bad for him.”

I could hardly breathe.

“I just lost my appetite,” he shook his head and I almost choked.

“For real??” I laughed, surprised.

“Tsk! No,” he scoffed and put a spoon full of Algerian rice into his mouth. “Who do you take me for? It’s

food and I for life.”

~~~~