Chapter 221: The Swing
In the afternoon, everyone returned to the palace. Princess Amaya went to the garden and sat on the swing. The swing’s movent was gentle.
"Your Uncle Sapiro accepted King Ralden’s invitation to join him in the hunting ground tomorrow. You and the rest of your cousins are also expected to join."
Amaya humd.
"How far is the hunting ground from the palace?"
"It is an hour’s ride."
"Marx, that woman Sofia is not simple. I think she is the one who caused
to fall into the tiger’s den." Amaya spoke freely. She knew that the garden was not bugged.
"You think so?" Marx asked.
"Don’t you think so?" She asked back.
"I agree with you. I looked into her background. She is the Chaneya’s Pri Minister’s only daughter. She seed mysterious. She reunited with her father when she was fourteen. Before that, there is no record of her."
"Anyway, we’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow, and I won’t have any interaction with her after that," Amaya said casually.
Marx gently propelled the swing forward, and as Amaya soared into the air, a soft breeze swept through, causing her hair to sway gracefully. A radiant smile lit up her face as she closed her eyes, lost in the mont. It felt as though ti stopped, transporting her back to the idyllic island of her childhood, to a ti when she was just four years old.
Her dad, Ibrahim, built a swing from a wooden plank and so vines under a big tree near their tree house. He pushed her hard, and the swing flew so high that Amaya’s laughter filled the forest. As a little girl, Amaya felt like she was so high up in the air, and the world seed so big from her viewpoint.
"I am flying, Daddy. Co on, push
so more." The little girl laughed heartily.
The corner of Ibrahim’s lips curled up. Amaya was so happy, and his heart swelled with joy.
At first, Amaya closed her eyes to savor the feeling of being high up in the air. After Ibrahim pushed her three tis, she opened her eyes and observed her surroundings. It was then that she saw a little monkey gawking at her from the branch of a nearby tree. Every ti she approached, the monkey chattered and jumped up and down, as if cheering for her.
Because Amaya was laughing happily, Ibrahim was carried away. When he pushed, he applied more force. At the sa ti, the little girl released her grip on the vine and stretched her hand toward the monkey who was hunkering on the branch.
"Amaya!" Ibrahim’s heart was in his throat. He calculated Amaya’s projectile and ran like the wind to catch her.
Surprisingly, Amaya did not fall. When he looked up, he saw her hanging on a branch. Then she flipped her small body, and she was sitting beside a baby monkey whose two dark brown eyes were too big for its face.
"Aya, co down here. Why did you let go of the vine? What if you have fallen?" Ibrahim reprimanded her.
"But I did not fall, Daddy. Rember you taught
jumping and flipping techniques?"
Ibrahim was silent for a mont. He did train Amaya when she turned three.
"Daddy, I think this baby monkey lost its ..."
"Aya, don’t move." Ibrahim’s voice was calm as he warned her. Amaya froze on the spot. She heard a hissing sound, and the space beside her beca empty.
"Jump!"
Amaya didn’t hesitate and jumped into her father’s arms. Only then did she dare to look up, catching a glimpse of the baby monkey’s tail before it disappeared into the snake’s mouth.
Amaya buried her head into her father’s chest, and she sobbed softly. She was not scared. She cried because she pitied the baby monkey. Ibrahim comforted his daughter by patting her back. She was still a child, after all. She was negatively affected by the harsh reality of life in the jungle.
"Aya, we live in a very dangerous place. We need to be strong and smart to survive. Do you understand?"
Amaya nodded. "I understand, Daddy." She said in between sobbing.
"Amaya..."
"Amaya, are you alright?" Marx called her for the third ti. He noticed Amaya staring into the distance and seed lost in her thoughts.
Amaya blinked and looked at Marx, who was holding the chain of the swing to keep it steady. "I just rember the first ti my father made
a swing," Amaya said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, revealing the sadness within.
"You missed your Daddy?"
"Yes," she said honestly. "Though Daddy Ibarra’s physical appearance reminds
of him, I still miss him that much. I also missed my animals. I’d like to spend so ti with them when I get back."
Marx humd.
Amaya got off the swing. Marx offered her his hand and Amaya accepted without any reservation. They went back to the White Villa and Amaya rested for the rest of the afternoon.
When it was ti for dinner, Manna helped her into an erald green cocktail dress. The dress had an asymtric neckline, which exposed her right shoulder, making her look alluring. The hemline of her skirt was short at the front and ankle length at the back. Manna did her hair into a half-bun, letting half of her hair cascade on her back and on her shoulder. Amaya only wore one set of jewelry, which was erald tear-drop earrings.
Manna wanted to apply light makeup on her, but she refused.
"I am not fond of makeup. It is a hassle. It is just a dinner."
"But Princess, all the King’s concubines will be joining. There will be a lot of beauties in the dining hall tonight. This will just be very quick." Manna looked at her with pleading eyes.
Amaya sighed. In the end, she relented and let her apply light to makeup on her. To be fair, Manna’s makeup skills were very good. She knew how to enhance her beauty. She thought she looked more beautiful.
"You should work in a salon or a professional make-up artist. You are so good at making one beautiful."
Manna blushed at the complint. Then she looked sad. "That is my dream, Princess, but I ended up as a servant because my family was in debt, and I was sold to repay it." She lanted.
Amaya was sympathetic toward Manna and wanted to help her. But before she could say anything, there was a knock on the door.
Reviews
All reviews (0)