WILLOCK 46

Sometimes we do things without understanding the course or our wants. We just do things because someone says there is no other option; you have to do it.

"Do you like horse riding?" I asked princess Shahid, as despite the fact that Amir had told me that his father, the King, yearned for my progress with princess Hasmin, it seemed the King really wanted and knew what he wanted; he made it clear that it was his second unmarried daughter, not the first. I hear Hasmine already has someone on the cards awaiting approval.

"I have never rode on horses before." Princess Shahid stated: Of course she had never; it's the cons of being feminine or being taught how to act up as a feminine lady of sorts. I was the type of man who wanted a lady who could evade some cultural norms; if it was riding horses, she could do it effortlessly without thinking back about what society states. I felt those ladies were the daring type, and they sort of gave me the charm of being hard and bad, hence my urges to chase chime in.

"Would you love trying?" I asked again. We were outside the castle in an armchair at the corner, where someone would rest under the shadow of the big tree nearby. I don't know why I was forcing this conversation; it was never off my mind to force or engage someone in a conversation; it just never rightfully clicked into me that I would ever find myself; it just felt really wrong and tiresome.

"No, I just want to enjoy the tree shadow." She stated.

"Okay, we can enjoy then." I stated this, forcing myself to sit next to her, not even sure what she was enjoying. I saw nothing beautiful to enjoy looking at; sometimes I loved my time alone, but I yearned to speak to someone at other times.

"How was your childhood life?" I asked, trying to start a conversation. I really hoped she was ready for a conversation. The funny thing was, not many people in this land understood English; they just spoke the Iraqian language, but quite a percentage understood and used it in their Q'uran interpretations. That's why I barely went to the market area because, crazy thing, it would end up being a real language barrier.

"My childhood?" She asked as if surprised for the first time. Wasn't she told that she was supposed to at least make it easier for me? At least if this plan is meant to work, she should just answer the questions; we just somehow get over it all, or maybe I was just stressing myself up. So, without letting her answer, I just stood and left towards the inside of the castle. I felt I needed to speak to Amir, or if things don't work out best, I will look for that king, even if it means being locked or being deported back into my country.

I found Amir sitting in the study, maybe which was set aside for him to use, as the noises from the playing princes and princesses would never let him concentrate on his work.

"Amir," I stated after being let in by the guards and waiting for some seconds for him to recognize my entry. Well, he did not.

"Yes." He stated that, still buried in his obnoxious book. He sometimes acted as if we were never friends or, at least, were never equals.

"I don't know if I can really take part in your wants." I stated, which just made him shake his head and then continue reading his book. Why was he being a fool? "Your wants with your father." I added, and he still did not seem shaken by my words. "Aren't you going to at least lead me with even the slightest of your attention?" I asked, my voice already full of the base that chimed in, when I felt someone was trying to demonize my existence. And that made him look up to me.

"After the beating?" He asked and then went back to reading. He was not really being petty after the beating he actually gave me the previous day. I started it, I know.

"Oooh, you are not being petty about the beat; well, did you not deserve it?" I asked.

"I had everything covered." Amir Stated.

"What do you mean? Your sister has no, even the slightest of wants of me; how am I to seduce her?" I asked, feeling a slight impatience in my voice. He just looked at me and then smiled.

"I thought English lads had awards as the best seducers in history." He stated that, and I just looked at him. It was like he was telling me that I am a failure on my own, but he never understood that my heart was not to the liking of this girl; it was actually so far away that it did not want to think of marriage or any betrothal; I was just living a life in which at least today I survived; now let's see if tomorrow I shall.

"What if the plan does not work?" I asked.

"At least you will have a wife." Amir stated that; calm and less serious.

"She is your sister, for Christ's sake." I added.

"At least you can take care of her." He stated.

"I am a bastard; doesn't it click into your scalp? I am a misfit; I am supposed to be dead." I added, trying hard to explain it to him.

"You are still the rightful heir of the throne, and you are still a Duke; you have possessions." He stated, and honestly, he was really getting me on my nerves. I was scared of things, and now this on top of everything feels more like torture.

"What do you all want from me? Why did you bring me here?" I asked again, and he just lightly looked at me, and my hand was hurting from the way I was clenching it. He stood from wherever he was and came near me, and face-to-face we looked at each other, both almost the same height.

"You sometimes don't think, do you?" He queried, and I looked at him like a lion ready to pounce on a gazelle; he always knew where to hurt me with, "Maybe that's why you are a bastard; maybe that's why you are just thrown out; or maybe you just think about yourself." He added. Why were I ever friends with this man in the first place? What did I ever even see in him?

"Amir stop." I stated. I knew the words he would say would break me, and these days I am not the little boy who would just visit the liquor store and drink all the pain.

"Maybe that's why your father dumped your mother," he said. Before he could continue, I found myself grabbing the collars of his sleeves. Oh God, my blood was boiling, and I watched his face brighten with no fear, as if he were daring me to 'punch me, you coward, because you know everything is true; you are a bastard with nowhere to call home; you are a sin.' I saw his eyes, his body language, and my jaw clenched. I then let him go as I stepped back and scratched my jaw in denial of everything that was running through my mind.

"I take my leave," I stated and then left, feeling all the pain, all the anger, everything following me like a relentless wind. My mind became a fog, and everything people used to tell me came rushing back — everything. But him calling out my mother, him stating how unholy my mother's deeds were to the extent of being extracted off the yearns of betrothal by the king. Trust me, it may have broken many, but it killed me. I was already heading outside, entering a certain forest or an area with trees that resembled a forest. I just needed to walk far away from myself, far from everything and everyone. After so much talking to myself, I realized I was not even at the little ones calming me down. I saw a tree in front of me, a target, and I just punched it so hard. As Amir saw it, I wanted to beat it up so badly. I felt wasted. Oh, God, I hardly beat it, so hard, so hard, until my knuckles bled; they bled so badly, and I could feel tears, but I forced myself not to dare remove a tear. I was a man, and a man I shall be. I dared myself not to cry.

"Oh..." I heard some strange voice from behind tell me. But I still continued punching the tree, letting go all my range, I did not care about the pains, I did not care about my hurts no, I hated life, I hated this, I hated whatever I was, until I felt my hands really hurting, my bones, I could feel, my knuckles bled, and I enjoyed it, I enjoyed it, seeing them bleed, I enjoyed that, it made me happy, the blood, and as I watched my knuckles, I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I turned to find a dark, black man and he just gave me a handkerchief, and told me to be silent, but I just watched him, as he suddenly left and then reaching somewhere, he raised his hand, and called for me, and I followed him, there was a river, and a boat was there, maybe his. He did not speak, and I felt no point in speaking either; he seemed really a good person, but at home, black people were meant to be slaves, and they deserved no empathy. I saw that I really never had a black friend or a black compatriot.

"Am Willock." I stated, and he wrote in a leaf, 'I know.' And it all surprised me.