Chapter twenty-one
{Some Months back}
Steps firm and unfaltering, Afatallah inched closer to his destination—on the south wing end of the building and farther away from their living quarters. Arms stiffly swinging at his sides, nerves in check, he seemed at peace with himself, just like a stream at dawn.
Affan had earlier called for an audience with him. And if anything, he was brimming with confidence, seeing this chance in his mind’s eye as Medieval times’ summoning to court. What he lacks for in regal outlook, he makes up for with his court-like swagger.
He had set his own acts in motion with those daring moves earlier, and was out to play it all to the end. And all it has taken was just a well-formulated plan, to get them right back in the game.
This is it, he thought, before
