7

POV Narrator

next morning

That morning the princess looked good-humoured, her only thought being that her pretensions to frighten the foreigner had come off so well that she would sit at that table, and that woman he wouldn't be there, luckily for him maybe he'd left just yesterday. It was what she wanted.

He never ran out of what he wanted.

That morning, unlike the day before where humiliation seemed to have touched her for some time, she felt superior to her own uncontrolled feelings, it had been too long since someone had disrespected her or made her weak.

She covered her face last, with the red hijab, leaving the opening in her neck so that she could eat in peace. Normani was waiting for her in the hallway, the door to the room next to hers closed. She walked beside her right arm, going down the stairs and walking towards the dining room.

Her guests hadn't started eating, as they were waiting for her for that meal, and they were there, all sitting at the table, in their places, talking quietly to each other until they came across her presence and silence spread over the room. She sat in her chair at the end of the table and looked at the other end.

Sitting as if nothing was bothering her, expression calm, gaze down at the buns through her prescription glasses.

He seemed to feel the princess' gaze on him and he lifted his gaze, staring at her from that distance. His action was of incalculable boldness when he smirked ironically at the princess who felt her heartbeats accelerate instantly in an irritation that made her melt into the table, pressing her hand tightly against her own lap.

Lauren didn't leave.

And she didn't look the least bit uncomfortable anymore, the snarky smile left it unspoken that she didn't fear her. While Karila searched within herself for some trace for such an explicit change in behavior, her silence was disturbing, as she looked at each person at that table trying to understand who was responsible for that woman sitting at her table, in her opposite, in front of her, smiling as if she had too much good with herself to be intimidated.

For the first time in your life, Karila Aistarabaw I dealt with an unmet need.

The taste did not please her lips at all.

Needing no words when their eyes seemed to have a direct dialogue when they met even from a distance, Karila stirred feeling her back heat up, would make this woman a piece of you in seconds he had the deadly brown gaze lost and he gleamed menacingly: I will kill her he screamed.

Lauren touched a mug of tea to her lips nonchalantly, bouncing that look back: come kill, teased with defiant emeralds.

The cold war was deployed, Karila stood up immediately, everyone at the table looked at her from their feet, their gaze on Lauren. even ursel he realized and felt in himself that the decision Lauren had made in the morning was the best one. The historian also got up and it was different for the princess to see Normani move towards Lauren, reassuring herself of something she was beyond her understanding.

Lauren just finished her tea, walking ahead to get away from there and out onto the patio.

"Eat without me." – The princess warned following Normani and Lauren, feeling the safety of the black woman who gave minimal space for her to stop next to the historian in the empty courtyard, just them there, side by side at a safe distance while Normani watched closely, fearful of something unforeseen.

— I'm not going to give you the pleasure of destroying my career, I apologize for having been imprudent in touching you, I had just arrived from America, I was not yet adapted nor remembered the revulsion and humiliation that a public touch on someone unknown and not allowed sounds to her people, as well as her posture of superiority as a princess. Lauren paused.

Her serenity came from the maturity of accepting her mistakes and not refuting them like a little girl would do to get attention. She knew the limit she could reach, she didn't have the slightest power to raise a battle with a woman like that. There was only one option not to ruin everything.

— And since I don't want to act hypocritically, feeling that you are afraid of what I might do to you, I am moving to the center of Cairo and will be staying there, not taking advantage of your luxuries or even your protection so as not to bother her, she doesn't go out yesterday because I don't want to give her the bad opportunity to think that I would go out of fear, I'm not going out of fear, I go out of respect for your position of authority and your position as a woman. I respect you like woman, and I'm sorry I touched you, Your Highness. ¬– Lauren was honest in repeating her apologies again.

She didn't want to provoke that woman and leave, even though she felt that she already hated her and that no excuse seemed to move her. Karila wasn't perfectly satisfied, but it was enough for her to stay away from him, and it was enough for the moment, even if teasing her at breakfast brought him other aspirations.

She smiled, content looking at the fountain in the center of the open courtyard, the sun giving hints that it would be strong for the day.

— If you go off the rails there, the scum eats you. – She spoke softly, and said it more to herself, in a positive acceptance that that woman could taste the taste of hell.

It wasn't Lauren's intentions.

“I am aware that my stance will determine whether I continue on this mission, Your Highness. – Lauren replied putting her hands in her pants pockets, her face turning to look at the princess in the corner. The red fabric covering her face was so uncomfortable for herself. I so wanted to see what your face looked like...

— You are mine. – Karila spoke very clearly so that Lauren was confusing. She frowned, tapping the stem of her glasses anxiously.

- Forgiveness? - She questioned as if it wasn't what she had heard. The princess turned to face her, moving close enough that Lauren could see the dull, menacing gleam of her hazel eyes through all that fabric in her hair and body. It wasn't just his gaze a dangerous streak, it was his entire posture and proximity.

— I'm not going to waste my time chasing you over there, there are worse things that life will teach you on its own, that's punishment enough, I have other things to do, but you're my problem, if you get out of hand, I'm the one who will take care of you. you because it's my responsibility to have entered this country, and it's going to be my responsibility to get you out or in the worst case scenario... - Karila paused, the smile under the fabric was satisfied.

— punish you.

And he moved, out of Lauren's sight with Normani at her side, hurrying up the steps, leaving only the traces of the red dress.

Lauren took a deep breath, her bags weren't even unpacked and she was about to leave, she didn't deny that it was the shortest stay of her life. And sometimes it wasn't even the hostess's fault, even if her evil the look brought her shivers, Lauren knew the limits she crossed, and said goodbye amicably that luxury, to a middling apartment in the center of Cairo, where anything could happen, and that was what made her most anxious and scared.

I would be alone.

-

Lauren's POV

Ursel talked to me in the morning, it wasn't like I made a hasty decision, I needed to let things get better so I could work in peace, That 's all I want, any rational person who can't stand a bit of appeal and exaggeration would do the same. I made a mistake, I'm moving out of there and that's it, period.

I didn't need to lie either that Normani helped me.

She said it was a lie, the hallway scene was a complete lie and that the princess just wanted to scare me, and it was such a momentary relief when she told me that, that on impulse I wanted to scream at that woman that she could get good. actress role, that drug terrified me to the bone.

Normani made it clear that Karila didn't do anything even if she could, and it was at that point in the conversation that she insisted I move out. On the one hand, her helping me intrigued me a lot, why would a woman so close to the princess have the sense to ask me to get out of there so soon before things got worse?

She told me of the princess's immediate desire to get me out of her country.

And I'm not stupid, if this princess really wanted to, she would get me out of this country, without needing horror scenes in the hallway of her mansion.

Normani was vehement in telling me that she did it because it was her way of solving things, the basis of terror, of fear. And I believed... It was the only plausible argument for understanding, that woman didn't know me much and due to a pure error of my ridiculous behavior and her culture so centralized and far from open, I'm hiding in a medium-sized apartment, in the center of Cairo.

The confident attitude of the princess's right hand man aroused a certain intrigue in me, but that morning, when I made it clear to the powerful woman that I would leave her house, I understood that Normani was nothing more than realistic in trying to get me out of there, perhaps she understood that it was a huge misunderstanding, Ursel and Gold were supportive of my attitude, but I could see in their faces that they were afraid for me, Gold even offered to leave the luxury aside and come with me, an offer that I simply declined, I would never get him out of there to come take care of me.

I must lift my chin, the misguided attitude was confined to me alone, the princess adored them, well.

Make good use of your love.

I entered the building I had searched for on the internet and felt the gaze of the Egyptian as I understood that, based on my uncovered hair, my skin and so many suitcases, I was not Arab or Egyptian or Muslim. His gaze sent chills down the back of my neck, and I remembered the last thing Karila's personal security left me, she gave me her number, looked me in the eye and just walked away. Without saying anything.

His touch was the only thing close to comforting I had.

Ursel gave me a transfer of funds, said that the Museum of Brussels had these perks up its sleeve, and that keeping me there would be good, both because it was closer to my destiny by joining them in the study, and because it was easily accessible. to possible visits from them.

The man spoke broken English, he confused me, but in the end our communication went ahead and I simply signed that tenancy agreement, clearly stating that I would be renting a furnished apartment on the fifth floor. I consulted him on how I could get help upstairs with my luggage and he readily offered, making me look suspicious.

Don't get me wrong, I am woman, any crooked and dirty look is a reason to feel uncomfortable and to be within my moral and humanitarian right to want to move away. No custom can deprive me of this. Which sounds ironic, I'm not wearing tight pants, short dress, cleavage, none of that is on my body, and yet he continued to look at me like a piece of meat on display.

Harassment doesn't come from the clothes you wear, or the places you go, it's more personal than it seems.

Faced with an impasse between going up alone and leaving my things for him to take all of them up later, I had no choice and accepted his help, eager for the torturous moment to end as I slipped into an elevator with an unknown man.

There were 10 minutes between when he helped me and when I hurriedly slipped into the apartment and thanked him. No openings for anything else. I was already tired enough. The apartment is well decorated, the colorful carpet filling the entire room, the typical cushions on the floor and the low table to sit and enjoy, the sofa, a thick and old-fashioned TV, books on a shelf that attracted my attention.

A small bedroom with a tall double bed and small glossy wood wardrobes, a bathroom that was more like a very well decorated cubicle, beautiful by the way the way the drawings filled the red and pink walls, no bathtubs. And a kitchen that is sleek and more modern than any other part of the apartment.

That's it, a year here calling it home and I was even used to it, the environment feels comforting.

I decided that getting my clothes out of the suitcase would be a mission for later. I had an expedition to go with my team of historians. We would gather from there in two hours. I took a long shower, renewing my energy and wore thicker pants, which retained more of the temperature being on the sand, boots, a shirt with sleeves that went up to the elbows and a neckerchief, tightening the vest over the shirt, with a few research objects in front pockets and over chest.

In a backpack, which I will certainly carry on my back, I put my thermos, cereal bars that I had brought from the United States, some books and my box with my glasses inside, I had become a cruel slave to my own eyes.

Two hours later, on leaving House, I locked it securely with the key, looking down the hall, accepting that a man leaning at the end of the hall holding something in his hands was suspicious enough. The cereal bar I was chewing became a concrete cake that I couldn't swallow. as I passed him and got his eyes on me, trudging to the elevator.

I could still feel his eyes on me as I stepped into the elevator and quickly pressed the buttons, feeling my chest hammer. The voice of that infernal princess came straight into my head: If you go off the rails there, the scum eats you. Damn it.

How could she be so mean? I swore that just by hearing her voice, I understood her implicit desires for evil, imagine seeing what was on her face?

Punish me, who did she think she was? Why.

Probably a woman who let herself be swallowed up by age such bitterness.

As I left the building, holding my backpack, I could see the Land Rover at the door, Ursel told me that they would always send a car to pick me up, the only privileged luxury that would have come from the almighty madam. I got into the back seat, looking at the two security guards in the front seat, and something in me seemed strangely reassuring. Enjoying the best view of Cairo.

Day one of 365, should I start my countdown?