Bab 88: Epilogue

Hoping for some kind of news, Rafiq paced up and down the hallway like a hungry, caged predator. He twisted the gold band around his finger, lifting his gaze to look at the closed doors he had half a mind to burst through. He couldn’t sit down, not now when something could be wrong. What was taking so long?

“Prince Rafiq, you’ll worry yourself sick for no reason with all this shuffling.” His father said. “They are fine I’m sure.” His murmurs came from behind the newspaper he’d buried his nose in. But Rafiq didn’t listen as he continued on. For about the tenth time in those few minutes, he pulled back the sleeve of his robes and checked the time. Thirty minutes had passed since they last heard any updates. Impatience and anxiety ate away at him so fast it was a wonder how he’d kept himself from kicking the doors down, just to get to Ziza’s side. Dhakhari tradition forbade male presence during both the labour and the birth of a child—except for certain special cases.