❂ Sun Kissed ❂ Ch. 2 - A Weekly Serial Romance Novel

[Urahra 5359]

❂ SUN KISSED ❂

 

A Weekly Serialized Romance Novel

by

Sarah Styrne-Napier

 

Can love blossom even in the desert heat? Troels Andreyev, a retired HRA soldier, moves abroad to the city of Al Faiz following his untimely retirement. There, he finds Yasmin... a mysterious Qalasheen beauty. Homeless and pregnant by a man who abandoned her, Yasmin pleads with Troels to allow her to stay in his house. What will come of this couple? Find out in the new chapter...

 

Read Chapter 1.

 

 

❂ Chapter 2 ❂

 

Troels awoke to the feeling of something soft and heavy smothering him. He grunted and shoved Abu -- Yasmin's black cat -- off his face. The cat let out an annoyed meow and scurried off. Sneezing, Troels sat up and brushed the cat hair away. He'd never owned a pet before. It surprised him how quickly Abu's hair spread to every surface of the cottage. All his clothes and furniture seemed to have a fine, itchy layer of cat all over them now. Sighing to himself, Troels changed out of his nightclothes. As he dressed, he heard quiet humming coming from the cottage kitchen.

 

Sharing his home with another person required some adjustments -- like learning to tolerate the cat. But there were a few pleasant things too. Troels felt a small smile creep over his face as he stepped out of the bedroom and made his way toward the kitchen. He lingered in the door, watching as Yasmin puttered back and forth. She opened up a ceramic jar of olives and spooned them into a delicate porcelain dish. With a small, sharp knife, she cut a cucumber into thin, delicate slices. A plate of pita bread, hummus, and sun-dried tomatoes sat off to the side on the tile counter. Troels had quickly discovered that the Qalasheen people knew how to eat. The food was nothing like what he ate at home in Haense. It was full of bright, explosive flavors and exotic textures. But he found that he liked it.

 

And he liked to watch Yasmin cook. He liked to watch her do a lot of things, in fact. He found himself following her with his eyes when she did chores around the house. And when she finished her duties each day, she would usually settle down outside on the porch, where she'd sew or read or play with the cat. Always, she would hum or sing quietly in Qalasheen - little lullabies to the baby she carried inside her. They didn't talk much to each other, but Troels found her presence companionable. In the evenings, he would sit with the windows open -- the cool evening wind whispering through the house, the setting sun filling the cottage with purple light -- and he would close his eyes and listen to her sing ever so softly.

 

Yasmin picked up the dishes of olives and hummus. She turned and caught sight of him lingering in the door. A smile passed between them. A wordless assurance that breakfast would be ready soon. Balancing the dishes in her arms, she carried them into the little dining area between the bedrooms and kitchen. A fragrant ocean breeze rustled the translucent cotton curtains. Troels seated himself at the table and thought, very simply, that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

 

Having set the table, Yasmin returned to the kitchen for the teapot. She cradled it on a beautifully embroidered tea towel as she placed it down next to Troels. "I was thinking," she said as Troels lifted the pot and poured them both a cup of rose tea. Troels lifted his eyebrows, looking to her. Yasmin trailed off, her cheeks turning pink. She avoided his eye, instead gazing off toward Abu. The cat was pawing at a bright blue cicada that had flown in through the window.

 

"Speak your mind," Troels prompted her.

 

"You've been very kind to let me stay, Troels," she said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. She picked up her ceramic teacup and held it between her hands. "I was hoping I could do something for you in return."

 

"No need," Troels replied, popping an olive into his mouth. "You work and I pay you. You earn your keep."

 

"Yes, but -- " Yasmin paused again briefly. "Most people wouldn't let servants sit at their tables and eat alongside them."

 

"I'm not most people," Troels replied, helping himself to more breakfast. "You don't need to repay me for treating you decently like a human being." Yasmin fell silent. She poked at the hummus with a triangle of pita bread, her jasper eyes downcast. Troels gazed into her face and felt a pang of guilt. "If you wanted to do something nice for me, though..." he said after a moment's pause. "I wouldn't stop you."

 

Yasmin brightened as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "There's an oasis," she said, "near here. When Abu and I had nowhere else to go, we would sometimes spend the night there. The palms grow thick and shady and -- there's often bananas in the leaves. They ought to be ripe this time of year."

 

Troels chewed a sundried tomato thoughtfully. "All right," he said. "Fresh bananas sound like a fine thing." In Haense, wild fruits were rare. You could sometimes scavenge berries in the woodland during the warm season. But here in Al Faiz, even the scrubby bushes growing on the side of the road seemed to be bursting with colorful fruits at all times of the year. Everything grew and flowered and blossomed in abundance. Small fruit trees grew in Troels' own backyard, dropping succulent cherries from their branches. Little grey monkeys with fuzzy, dark faces would perch and nibble at the cherries. Troels had spent an evening watching the monkeys with Yasmin not too long ago. He remembered her giggling helplessly as the little creatures chased each other through the trees - and the sound of her laughter rang in his head like a bell.

 

It was the small things he liked best. The soft humming as she sat on the porch, petting her cat. Her silvery laughter as she watched the monkeys. The gentle patter of her bare feet on the sandstone floor. He loved those sounds as dearly as music.

 

After breakfast, Yasmin worked on finishing her chores while Troels waited on the porch with the cat in his lap. Around mid-afternoon, Yasmin stepped outside with a triumphant little smile. A reed basket hung in the crook of her elbow. "Done," she said, reaching down to help him up. "Let's hurry." Troels took her hand and stood with a grunt. Sitting and standing had become difficult since the injury to his leg. But he never needed to ask Yasmin for help. She simply knew.

 

They walked together, arm-in-arm, past the sandstone walls of the city. Troels kept his free hand loosely around the hilt of his sword. His soldier instincts prickled with paranoia. Al Faiz struck him as a sleepy place where the people were too carefree to commit much crime. But he'd heard tales of bandits lurking in the Korvassan desert. He couldn't do much if they decided to attack, but it was his hope he'd be able to wound them badly enough to let Yasmin escape.

 

Luckily, the oasis wasn't far from the city limits. The foliage grew lush and dark around the small watering hole. Banana trees, bristling with bright yellow clusters, stood at the water's edge. Monkeys and parrots had already made short work of the fruit. Half-eaten, mushed bananas littered the ground. However, there were still several untouched bunches hidden deep in the cool, waxy leaves. Yasmin seemed to know exactly where to find them. Troels watched with fascination as she would reach into the underbrush and -- seconds later -- pull out a hefty cluster of yellow crescents. She loaded them into her basket and -- when the basket got too heavy for her to carry -- she passed it off to Troels. It quickly got to the point where Troels wondered what to do with all these bananas. But he didn't mention anything. The smile on Yasmin's face when she found a ripe, untouched cluster was too precious for him to complain.

 

As the sun dipped low behind the rolling dunes, Troels and Yasmin sat together on the edge of the water. Fractured sunlight glittered on the surface and the air swam with rich fragrances. Yasmin wasted no time digging into the bananas. As soon as they settled down, she started tearing open the peels. Troels watched her with an amused look as she gobbled down the bananas one or two at a time, tossing the peels into the water.

 

"Putting those away, aren't you?" he said with a small chuckle.

 

Yasmin blushed pink. She rested a hand on her pregnant stomach. "My baby was talking to me," she said. "Begging me for bananas."

 

Troels let out a deep, full-bodied laugh. "So that's why you wanted to come here so badly. Eat as many as you like, then."

 

"I'll save some for you too, I promise!" Yasmin replied with a smile before digging back into the basket. Troels couldn't stop himself from smiling as well. But as he watched her, a thought began to trouble him. In the weeks that they had been together, Yasmin never once mentioned the father of the child. It was as though the man didn't exist at all. Troels knew well enough that babies didn't simply appear out of nowhere. The father would show up someday to collect his woman and child. And Troels didn't want to watch -- helpless -- as she fell back into the arms of a man who abandoned her.

 

He wanted to be with her like this forever. To spend long, warm afternoons gathering bananas. To watch the monkeys play in the cherry tree. To listen to her sing. To hear her laugh. He felt Yasmin quickly slipping through his fingers. She was like a feather - carried into his life by the winds of chance and just as quickly borne away.

 

"Yasmin," he began. "That baby... it'll be born soon. It needs a father. I'm -- not a wealthy man. But I've a house. And enough money to care for the three of us. It could be like this every day. Though the child's not mine, I would look after it. Because..."

 

The words 'I love you' hovered in Troels' mind. They sat on the tip of his tongue, threatening to be spoken. But he held back, not wanting to frighten her.

 

Yasmin's smile faded. Her hands rested on the curve of her belly as if cradling the baby close to her. "What..." she stumbled over her words. "What are you -- what are you saying, Troels?"

 

"Marry me."

 

All seemed to fall silent -- even the chattering of the birds and monkeys. Troels held his breath. Yasmin bit her bottom lip hard. Her chin buckled and tears began to fall from her beneath her thick, dark lashes. Troels felt his heart sink into his stomach. His shoulders sagged. He had been rejected by his fair share of women, but none of them had ever wept before. He didn't know what to do. "You can't -- " Yasmin gasped, her shoulders hitching as she sobbed. "You can't ask that of me, Troels..."

 

Troels let out a sigh, looking down at his hands. "You still love him," he said. "The father of that child."

 

"No -- !" Yasmin hiccupped, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes somehow looked even more lovely through the sheen of tears. They sparkled -- and Troels fought the desire to kiss her. "No... It's not that. It's not that at all. I am -- I am very fond of you, Troels. I am. If things were different..."

 

"Then..." he replied. "Then why not?"

 

"I don't want to make this harder than it has to be."

 

Troels was so fixated on Yasmin, he did not hear the rustling coming from the bushes. All at once, he became aware of shadows moving in the trees. His hand leapt to his blade, but it was too late. Two figures emerged from the thick, dark undergrowth. A pair of bandits – a dark elf and a Qalasheen man -- grinned at Troels from behind their masks. "Good work, Yasmin," the Qalasheen man said, pulling a dagger from his belt and spinning it in his hand. "You brought us a live one."

 

Yasmin dissolved into sobs, covering her face with her hands. Troels stared at the two bandits. The masked dark elf slid a scimitar from a sheath on his back. He pointed it at Troels. "Strip," the bandit commanded. "Hand over everything you've got, old man."

 

Very slowly, Troels lifted his hands in surrender.
 

 

A shocking betrayal - ! Yasmin was not who she seemed to be! What will become of Troels? Will his sincere feelings find their mark... or will he be the victim of a bandit's blade? 

 

Find out next week!

 

Published by Penton-Napier Publishing

 

 

 

[Remyy 952]

Despite the wrapping situated around his eyes, Cecil would hold the latest edition of the romance novel up to his face as he read over it intensely. Sagging against his seat upon completing the chapter, he'd murmur to himself. "What a twist! I wonder what will happen in the next chapter.."

[tadabug2000 3494]

Princess and Sheikha Esmae bint Saqr Al'Ulamah Al-Nabeel perked a dark brow at the cliffhanger, glancing back to her husband as they'd read yet another chapter in each others arms. "You ever did that to me, you'd be vomiting on the ground, Habibi." She drawled out. @ComicD