Fortune Favors the Cursed
the-reticent-seer
diverselit
diverselit
1.3K5
An orphan girl with questionable morals. A scarred prince with two lives. One relic to change their world.
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Badriya As-Sahra is sick of piling up camel dung and ...Chapter 5
Badriya woke up with a hundred horses galloping inside her head. For a few beats, she let herself lie still with her eyes still closed, the throbbing in her head seemingly making her unable to move. It was the worst feeling to wake up from—she hoped that it wasn't a symptom of desert sickness or some other disease. She knew she should've bought some herbal tinctures before she left Klalasha for something like this. If she ever fell ill, anyone would be able to get to the Jewel before she was cured.
Groaning, she decided to finally rise, finding herself inside the tent that she set up earlier in the night—
No. Badriya scrambled out of the tent, and the gentle rays of the sun met her gaze. It was early morning.
How did she get in the tent? She didn't remember getting herself inside, nor did she remember retiring early at night. Why can't she remember what happened?
She looked around. The campfire had already died out, a wisp of smoke rising from its embers. The bags that she bought from Klalasha's souq a couple of weeks ago to hold her food and clothes were still there, untouched. Nothing seemed out of place.
Out of nowhere, a stranger in all-black emerged from a large rock standing beside a palm tree. Everything about him was covered in black, except for his eyes. A long sword was strapped on his side.
"You're awake," the stranger said. "How are you feeling?"
Badriya reached for her dagger hidden in her left sleeve. Nothing. Panicked, she searched the rest of her person—her other sleeve, her pockets, even her scarf—but it wasn't there.
"I believe you're looking for this." He tossed a familiar blade on the ground beside her.
"How did you—" Badriya quickly picked it up and pointed it at him, even though she knew it wasn't a match for the saif hanging beside him. "Who are you? What do you want?"
The man raised a brow. "Put down your dagger. I'm not going to hurt you, and neither can you with that knife of yours."
"Then how did you get hold of it?" Badriya asked. "You must've taken it from me by force. What did you do? And why don't I remember what happened last night?"
The man tilted his head. "You don't really remember?"
"I wouldn't be asking if I did." Badriya rolled her eyes. "Enlighten me."
"You were ambushed by dune robbers," he said. "I was around the area when I heard a scream. I came to see that you were surrounded by three of those thieves. One of them hit you in the head just when I arrived. Oh, and you also stabbed one of them in the arm before that happened."
"And then after that?"
"After that, they went on to get me," he continued. "But they got one look at my sword and just ran away. Those cowards."
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"You don't," the man said. "But you can check the thing growing in your head. I'm quite certain I didn't do that."
Badriya grimaced when she felt a bump on the right side of her head. It felt swollen and tender to the touch. She tugged her brown scarf down to her forehead to cover it up. Those tinctures would've been very useful to her right now.
The man leaned himself on the rock. "They must've hit you quite hard that you forgot."
"Maybe you were the one who hit me."
"Do you think I'd do that if there are easier ways to knock you unconscious?" His voice didn't sound sarcastic as his hand hovered above the hilt of his blade.