Chapter 2: Chapter One

"This weather," Ayah Thalith muttered, looking through the window of the car she was seated in.

She closed her eyes to savour the feel of the wind against her face, smiling as she did. Judging by how scorching hot the sun had been that afternoon, Ayah couldn't believe it could turn out to be that cool mere hours later.

"It's lovely," her sister, Barakah agreed, letting out a small sigh.

Ayah relaxed into her seat, willing to enjoy the remainder of the drive to her father's office in the good graces of the evening weather. It wasn't long before the car jerked to a stop outside of a building just like Ayah had expected, signalling that their journey had come to an end.

She climbed down gently, careful not to trip on her extremely long gown, and waited for her sister to climb down as well. Barakah, Ayah's sister who was only two year older than her climbed down, even more gracefully than Ayah had, taking her time in straightening out her gown when her feet touched the ground.

They had decided to dress in the same sky blue gown they had gotten a few days back. It was a boubou gown that had stones designing it from head to toe. On top of it, they had worn matching yellow veils that covered their heads all the way to their stomachs. While Ayah secured hers to place using a silver hairpin, Barakah had chosen a do that with a golden hairpin.

Ayah rolled her eyes at her, smiling regardless. "So dramatic."

"Well, excuse you princess," Barakah began, straightening out and taking deliberately slow steps towards Ayah. "I'm a queen."

"A queen?" Ayah gasped, touching her hands to her chest for dramatic purpose. "And here I thought you were adopted."

"You wish," Barakah laughed.

They walked side by side into the twenty storey building which had a sign on its glass wall that spelt out their father's name, 'THALITH'.

The interior of the building was black and silver themed. All the furnitures in the reception area and the ground floor were either black or silver coated. Ayah's father loved the colour black. Though he always insisted, she knew for a fact that he loved it because it could hide dirt for a very long time. And to prove her point, he disliked the colour white.

They walked through the wide area that led up to the elevators, not faltering in their steps. While Barakah walked with her head held high like she owned the place - because she did, Ayah walked with a small smile on her face, offering nods and hand waves to her father's workers.

They climbed onto an empty elevator, riding it to the twentieth floor where their father's office was located. Walking out, Ayah nodded at her father's secretary, Sarah who smiled back.

The floor their father's office was on had most of the walls dividing it's offices made of glass that overlooked the interior of the various offices on it unlike the ground floor which barely had any offices to begin with, with it being an open space. They walked on until they got to the glass door that overlooked their father's office. Barakah knocked gently on it, awaiting their father's warm smile as an invitation into his office.

Ayah could see her father seated behind his desk, his face buried into what looked to be piles of files. He looked up from his desk and waved them inside with a big smile planted on his face. Her father was happy to see them, which was weird to Ayah because he never had showed them he cared about them.

Barakah pushed open the door, and they both walked inside. The instant change in temperature couldn't go unnoticed. Unlike the passage ways had been, his office was at least six degrees lower.

Ayah seated herself on a leather couch to the far right, sporting a smile, even though it wasn't nearly as big as her father's. "Good evening, Dad."

"My angels," he greeted back.

Weird, Ayah thought. But she decided it was best to enjoy it while it lasted.

He dropped the files in his hold and folded his hands against his desk, his eyes trained on them with a smile still present. "You've grown so much."

"You say that like we don't live together," Barakah retorted, rolling her eyes.

"But I'm not always home, am I?" He replied, shaking his head. "So it still surprises me. I mean, I remember the day your mother gave birth to you. It still feels like yesterday."

It was Ayah's turn to roll her eyes now. Her father always talked about how little they were despite the fact that it was common knowledge that they no longer look like they used to those years ago. Perhaps it was a parent thing, Ayah thought. She remembered her best friend, Yasmin had complained about that to her once before.

"Dad, I'm twenty," Barakah scoffed. "I'm a woman now."

"That reminds me," her father said. He slid on his ergonomic office chair to the edge of his large table, opened his wardrobe and brought out an envelope before sliding back to his previous position. "I got a letter this morning. Come closer, both of you."

Ayah and her sister did as told, abandoning their leather chairs for ergonomic ones that sat at the front of his desk. Ayah turned in her chair before relaxing into it with her eyes fixated on her father, waiting for him to carry on.

He checked the contents of the letters one after the other before handing them to each of them one after the other.

Looking at the envelope which was now in her grasp, Ayah spared her father a glance, her eyebrows knotted together in confusion.

"What is it?" She asked.

When it seemed like her father wasn't going to provide her with an answer, Ayah took the letter out of it's envelope, dropping the envelope on her lap to focus on the letter which had to be the real deal.

The paper was not like any she was used to seeing. It had a pink and purple flowery pattern that were smooth to touch, it's edges caved in. It reminded her of a wedding invitation letter which instantly made her heart race for a reason she wasn't sure she knew yet. If it was just an invitation, why then was she getting bothered?

It was because the letter on Barakah's hands weren't the same as hers. While hers were a mixture of pink and purple, Barakah's was a mixture of gold and white. Before her thoughts could go farther however, her father spoke up.

"It's a marriage proposal," he said. "One for both of you, from the same family. But different sons."

She looked away from the letter and looked towards him whilst trying to process what he had just said.

"Oh," she replied absentmindedly after a while of staring at him without being able to comprehend anything, tearing her eyes away from him to read the letter.

Dear Mr and Mrs Thalith,

It is with great joy that I write to you to request the hand of your daughter in marriage. My name is Zain Khalil, and although I have not had the pleasure of meeting your daughter personally, I have come to know of her through mutual friends and have been impressed by her character and accomplishments.

I am a responsible and respectful individual, and I am committed to building a strong, loving relationship with your daughter. I have a stable job and am financially secure, and I am prepared to provide for her and support her in any way that I can.

I understand that this may be a unconventional way of making a marriage proposal, and I want to assure you that I am sincere in my intentions. I hope that you will consider my request and give me the opportunity to get to know your daughter better. I am willing to answer any questions you may have and to do anything to show my appreciation for your consideration.

Thank you for your time and attention. I look forward to your response.

Sincerely,

Zain Khalil

Ayah started to place the letter back into the envelope, using the medium as a means to gather her thoughts.

As stated in the letter, Ayah was sure Zain didn't know her, and neither did she know him. She also hadn't heard of him either. His surname though, was a name she had heard multiple times, so much so she turns her head whenever the name was called around her.

That was how popular and influential the Khalil's were. They're weren't the wealthiest being the fifth most wealthy in the country of Nailai, but they were wealthy enough to be the wealthiest in the whole of her state, Hecht. They owned two thirds of the refineries, warehouses, and industries in her city Dineira, half of those in the whole of Hecht, and one tenth in the whole country. Ayah loved the Khalil's, everyone did.

What she didn't understand though, was why a son of such a family would choose her, the daughter to a middle classed businessman. Ayah wasn't belittling her father, he was influential and wealthy too, but compared to the Khalil's, he didn't stand a chance.

Ayah also didn't understand what Zain meant by saying he was impressed by her character and accomplishments. She was a good girl, undoubtedly, but accomplishments? What had her eighteen year old self accomplished? Nothing. Except for maybe having the best results as a graduating student from high school a year back, other than that, none at all.

Why then had he asked for her hand? She thought. She had nothing to offer as long as she was concerned, but a quick trip down memory lane banished the thoughts our of her mind, replacing it with fear for what her parents would say to it.

Growing up, she had learnt at an early age that people on her side of the world didn't marry for love, her parents didn't, and neither did her grandparents. They only marry for the purposes of growing their business and forming alliances with other families, finding love in it was always a bonus, and not everyone was lucky enough to get that bonus.

Even though she was still in the dark as to why the Khalil's would want to form an alliance with her father despite how far apart their levels of success was, she understood the fact that all of it was business. And it didn't matter to her.

She glanced at her sister who's face was pressed into a big frown as she placed the letter back into it's envelope. Then she looked at her father who was watching them both one after the other, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"What do you think?" He asked, spreading his palms out in their direction.

"No... Of course," Barakah replied almost immediately, her voice sporting an edge Ayah had gotten accustomed to from how easily her sister got angry. "I don't know him, he doesn't know me... But that's all besides the point, I'm not ready. So it's a no"

"Barakah." Her father rubbed his temple with a sigh, placing his elbows against the desk as he closed his eyes. "You have to at least give it a thought, you can't be so quick to decide. This is a-"

"But there's nothing to think about," she shrugged, cutting him off. Her voice had begun to shake, Ayah noticed. "I'm not ready, it's that simple."

"What about you, Ayah?"

It took a few moments for Ayah to realize her father was referring to her. She sat up on her chair, clearing her throat as she did.

"I'm on board with Sister Barakah," she said. "I'm barely an adult, and I just graduated high school, marriage is not in my bucket list yet. I'm not ready."

"I don't think you girls understand what this means." He started. He stood up from his chair and walked around his table, then he stopped to lean against his table when he got in between his daughters. "This is a very rare opportunity, it's a chance to secure your future. I trust that you know the Khalil's? And they're willing to marry both of you, what more could we possibly wish for?"

"Dad!" Barakah cried, throwing her hands in the air. "This is basically the same as saying you want to sell us!"

"That's a very big word, young lady," her father warned, pointing his index finger in her direction. "I won't condone such nonsense from you."

Barakah went quiet after that, but Ayah could see the gears running in her head and the smoke it was emitting.

"As I was saying," he continued, clearing his throat. He sounded more serious this time, sending a shiver up Ayah's spine. As nice as her father could be to them, Ayah dreaded his anger. "I still have to discuss this with your mother to hear what she thinks about it, but in the meantime, I want you girls to think about it, discuss it within yourselves and come to a final decision."

A moment of silence followed, during which Barakah glared at her father who kept switching his gaze between both of them.

"But you'll let us decide right?" Ayah asked suddenly, surprising her own self as she stared her father straight in the eye, ignoring the fear that ignited in her from just looking him in the eyes. "You're willing to let our say be the final one?"

She held her father's gaze with as much seriousness as she could, not blinking at all. Blinking would mean accepting defeat, and Ayah wasn't in the mood for defeat.

Being this up close, it was hard not to acknowledge the resemblance between her father and herself. Ayah was almost a replica of her father, except for the small cat-like eyes she got from her mother.

The stare went on for much longer than she had expected and just when she felt she was going to give up and look away, Sarah's voice distracted her father.

"You have a board meeting in five, sir."

Ayah had been so focused on the staring competition that she hadn't noticed Sarah walk into the office.

"Give me a minute, I'll be with you shortly." He replied, his eyes still trained on her. He wasn't smiling, and neither was she. She finally looked away to glance at Barakah who's eyes were already on her, her eyebrows raised with her mouth slightly agape. Ayah smiled awkwardly, too angry to laugh as she normally would.

She knew she had surprised her sister as she wasn't normally the girl who spoke up herself, rather, she took advantage of Barakah's indifference which had helped her every single time she had counted on it.

With a nod, Sarah disappeared from Ayah's peripheral, the soft click of her heels against the white marble tiles being the only thing that reminded her she was still in the office with them. The sound of her heel faded away after the door clicked, bringing Ayah's focus back to the discussion on ground.

"So..." her father trailed off, making to lean away from the table. He straightened his tie, smoothening out his black suit jacket as well. "We'll pick up this discussion where we left it off when I get home, all right?"

No response.

"In the meantime, think about what I said. It's a great opportunity, I know you're smart enough to see that it is."

The moment he walked out of the office, closing the door behind himself, Barakah let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"This is irritating," she commented, standing up from her seat. "Come on, let's get out of here."

The ride home was silent much to Ayah's delight. She needed to think and clear her head, and she guessed Barakah did too.

She thought of the look that had been in her father's eyes when she held it for however long that had been. His mind was already made up, she could tell. Saying he hadn't decided on the course of action yet was his way of making them think their opinion mattered, when in actuality, it didn't.

She allowed the fear of what was to come overwhelm her and find it's way to her tear buds. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill out of her eyes, wondering why she had thought to let them fall out. She had no reason to cry, this wasn't a new thing, it was no reason to cry. She had been prepared for it for as long as she knew.

But why then did it seem like her heart would fall apart from how heavy it felt?

She glanced at Barakah in time to see her wipe a tear out of her face, sniffing as she did. She stretched her hands and placed them on her lap, squeezing as if to say, 'it'll be alright', even though she knew like she knew where the sun rose from that it wouldn't.

But couldn't hurt to have hope however little, what could possibly go wrong?

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