Chapter Ten

By the time Mr. Ali and I had gotten back to his home, the sun had begun setting, and as soon as I got to the small room I collapsed on the bed. Today was….. a lot.

The revelation of my inheritance shook me to my core, especially my mother's estate. If I had taken that flight back to Amsterdam, I would never have learned the truth. My family would have found a way to claim everything, as they always did.

Then there was the investigation into what happened four years ago that was finally being reopened, but the bitter resistance from Darian's mother and the council made it clear that my return had disrupted more than just memories.

Fate seemed to give me all I lost four years ago, but at what cost? 

I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to ward off the growing headache when a soft knock came at the door. It opened gently, and Mrs. Farah stepped inside, followed by Mr. Ali. I sat up immediately.

"Good evening sir and ma'am, is there an issue I can help you with?" I asked, and the aged woman shook her head as she stepped in.

"My husband told me what happened at the palace today," she said, her voice warm with concern. "I wanted to check on you.

Her concern warmed something in my chest.

"I should be the one thanking you," I replied, folding my hands in front of me. "Your husband graciously let me stay, and you've accepted me into your home. I don't know how to repay your kindness."

Mr. Ali shook his head. "You don't need to thank us, you're like a granddaughter to us. and don't ever mention repayment, or we'll get offended."

A small chuckle escaped me as I wiped away a stray tear. Their kindness was more than I could have asked for, especially when I had arrived here with no plan to stay.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Mrs. Farah announced with a cheery smile. "We must celebrate the outcome of the will reading."

I shook my head immediately. "Ma'am, you really don't have to—"

She raised a hand, silencing me with a firm but playful glare.

"No, I won't hear it!"

She turned to her husband with a pointed look. "He tried to talk me out of it too, but I didn't listen to him either."

I glanced at Mr. Ali, who sighed in defeat and avoided his wife's gaze, and I let out a small laugh. The way he commanded authority in the palace today, yet remained utterly helpless before his wife, was oddly endearing.

Mrs. Farah clapped her hands. "So when you two are done talking, you will come downstairs to eat. No arguments."

"So when you two are done talking," her gaze moved between the two of us. "You should come downstairs so we can celebrate…. alright?"

I gave a small nod, knowing better than to protest further. Satisfied, she smiled and left the room, leaving Mr. Ali and me alone.

The moment the door clicked shut, he visibly relaxed.

"I apologize," he said, shaking his head with fond

exasperation. "She gets excited about these things. With our children away, she doesn't have anyone to fuss over."

"It's no problem at all," I replied honestly. "It's… nice. I haven't had this in a long time."

His smile softened, then his expression grew serious as he reached into his pocket.

"I have something for you." He pulled out a brown envelope and placed it in my hands. "A letter from His Late Majesty."

My breath caught in my throat.

"A letter?" I echoed, my fingers tightening around the parchment. "But… why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I followed his final instructions," Mr. Ali said gently. "And after today, we've seen clearly that you have more enemies than allies. It's best to handle things cautiously."

I nodded, my heart pounding as I ran my thumb over the familiar seal. Grandfather's handwriting was scrawled across the front, elegant yet firm.

Mr. Ali studied me for a moment. "I understand if you're not ready to read it yet," he said. "But I suggest you do. There may be something important in there."

I swallowed hard, then nodded. "I will."

Satisfied, he excused himself, leaving me alone with the letter.

Taking a deep breath, I carefully broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The ink was slightly faded, but his writing was strong and clear.

*****************

My dearest Zara,

If you are reading this, then I am gone, and you have returned to a place that never deserved you.

I know you have suffered greatly, and I cannot undo the pain you have endured. But I have always believed in your strength. I prayed every day that you would find your way in this world, free from the burdens placed upon you.

I leave you with this inheritance not because I think you need it, but because I want you to have the means to build the life you choose. Your mother would have wanted the same.

But there is something far more important than wealth: your name, your honor, and the truth.

They will tell you that the past cannot be rewritten, but that is a lie. Look where it all began, and you will find the answers that were stolen from you. However, if you do not wish to pursue it, I understand. I only wish for you to live well, my child.

Always know this—you were never alone, and you were never forgotten.

With love,

Grandfather Faizal Khalid.

***************

My hands trembled as I clutched the letter to my chest, my breath shallow. "Look where it all began?"

The words repeated in my mind, over and over. What did he mean? Did he know something about my exile that I didn't? Had he uncovered the truth before he died?

A surge of determination filled my chest, I could not ignore this now. Not when my grandfather had left me a clue. Not when I had the chance to prove, beyond a doubt, that I was wrongfully accused.

Perhaps… perhaps I was meant to be here after all.

Just as I stood to find Mr. Ali, a knock came at the door. I opened it to see him already standing there, his hand raised mid-knock.

"Sir, I was about to come–" I said, but he stopped me.

"We can talk about that later," he said grimly. "For now, there are people who want to see you."

A chill ran down my spine. "Who?"

His lips thinned. "Your family."

My stomach twisted into knots, but I forced myself to remain composed.

"I'll be right down," I said.

He hesitated, then gave a slight nod before turning away. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and descended the stairs.

The moment I entered the sitting area, my heart clenched. My father, his wife and my half-brother were seated as if they owned the place. Mrs. Farah stood at the side, her expression tight with disapproval. My father barely looked at me, but the rigid tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.

This was no simple visit.