#Chapter Six#

I woke up in a sweat the next morning. My hair was splattered all over my pillow even though my body felt stiff and achy as if I hadn’t moved at all during my sleep. I was mummified, the blanket pulled up directly to my chin and although I was extremely comfortable, I was also very hot. 

Feeling the sheen of sweat on my body, I threw the blankets away from me and swung my legs over the side. Disoriented, I clutched at my swirling head as I had gotten up too fast, and fumbled around my night stand in search of my phone.

I checked the time once I had it grasped in my hand. It was eleven in the morning; it was the time I usually woke up around however today, I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing something. As if I had somewhere important to be…

I gasped.

The High Tea!

Memories of yesterday afternoon came rushing back to me and I grimaced as I recalled how bad my migraine had been. Calculating the hours, I realised I had slept for nearly a whole day!

As the event started at exactly noon, I only had one hour to get ready and make my way there. I was angry no one had bothered to wake me up, but then again, they probably assumed I would want to rest the whole day. 

I took a quick body shower to rinse off the sweat that had accumulated overnight, before hurriedly walking out of the bathroom and wrapping a towel around myself in the process. Stepping into my walk-in wardrobe, I pulled the maroon dress I had bought a few days before, off its hanger and lay it out carefully onto my bed. Thankfully, the dress had long sleeves incorporated into it so all I had to worry about was my scarf, which Mira had already chosen for me. It was a shimmery, golden coloured veil that happened to contrast perfectly with the red of the dress. 

“SHE’S AWAKE!” I jumped at the sound of Mira’s voice, as she shouted to no one in particular. She sauntered into my room and dropped her shoulder bag on the floor. “How are you feeling? Well, you look better, anyway, we have a lot of work to do!” I rolled my eyes at her panicked rambling. 

With Mira’s assistance, I was ready twenty minutes later. We stumbled down the two flights of stairs until we were in the lobby. A driver was waiting for us and we climbed in, Mira being dramatic as usual. “I can’t believe you are going to be late to an event you created in the first place!” 

“Relax, will you. There’s still fifteen minutes until it starts.” The rest of my family had already left and we’d be meeting them there. 

Upon our arrival, swarms of paparazzi flocked to our car and began snapping away with their cameras whilst simultaneously yelling questions at us, even before we had gotten out of the car. I inhaled a deep breath and plastered on a smile. To my relief, Salem had materialised out of nowhere and was opening the car door for us. Whilst he focused on safely getting Mira and I into the hall, tens of other guards held back the unrelenting paps. 

“Miss Ahmad, you’re gown is just stunning!”

“Miss Ahmad, tell us the plan for today!” 

“Miss Ahmad, what happened before you fainted yesterday?!”

I was really starting to despise my own name. I was sure they had managed to snap some shots of my unconscious body yesterday, no doubt, the news had already been broadcasted across the country. 

“Jeez, they’re actually quite frightening,” Mira voiced, once we were safely standing in the lobby area. 

“Tell me about it.” 

“You ladies alright?” Salem asked with a hint of worry. I could see Mira trying and failing, to not visibly swoon. 

“Yes, we’re fine,” I answered for the both of us, nudging Mira in the ribs. 

“Are you feeling better?” he directed his question towards me. “You had us really worried yesterday.” 

“I’m feeling much better, although I have to say, that was one of the worst migraines I’ve had in a long time.”  

“Do you know what triggered it? Had you been eating well?” he interrogated, sounding like my father. 

“I’m not too sure, it sprung up on me quite unexpectedly. I’m just happy it’s gone now.” He furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation, before nodding and motioning for us to walk ahead. 

A large smile lit my face once I saw the hall. It had been designed and organised perfectly. In the traditional High Tea style, round tables and chairs were positioned around the room, lace and flowers adding the essential vintage touch. A china cup was laid out for each individual person along with their name tag and waiters were equipped with thermos’ that kept the water ready for drinking. 

Dividing the sets of tables, was a broad stage with a podium as well as a separate table for my family, it seemed. Held at the opposite end of the hall, was a buffet of finger foods and appetisers that would surely keep everyone bloated to no end. 

Everyone had pretty much arrived, so I hastily made my way across the hall to where my family were already seated. I walked up the stage steps with as much grace as I could muster, proceeding to sit down slowly. 

“Habibti, what are you doing here?!” baba exclaimed from his seat. 

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? This is my event, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Baba just nodded before focusing back on the crowd in front. “Hi,” I beamed, turning to Sarah and Ziad. Sarah leaned over and pecked me on the cheek and to my surprise, Ziad didn’t reply but simply roamed his eyes across my face, almost apprehensively. Before I could ask what was wrong with him, the host had stepped up to the speaker and cleared his throat.

The hall quieted down and Khaled began his short introductory talk, outlining the program for the day. After him, baba got up to give a concise speech.

“Asalamu alaikum everyone! First and foremost, I want to welcome you all here today and congratulate you on making it through from amongst the thousands who had registered. I also want to thank my ambitious daughter, Sameena, for coming up with this marvellous initiative,” he paused to smile my way and I grinned at him in return. “Today is definitely more than tea and food, although I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why you’re all really here,” he quipped, and everyone laughed. “Today, I want you all to voice your concerns, your criticisms and your feedback on your government. What have we lacked in? How do we fill the gaps? How can we improve? At the end of the day, your happiness and security is what we aim to achieve. Both the legislative and democratic parties are here this afternoon and we are all very eager to hear what you have to say.” Baba quickly wrapped up and boisterous applause followed through. 

The next two hours were spent with a ‘Q&A’ segment, where people from the crowd could directly ask either one of us a question. We were doing really well; we had all answered to the best of our abilities and spoken eloquently. It wasn’t until the last five minutes that someone had managed to catch us off guard. 

“Prime Minister, if I might be so frank as to say that I’m concerned over your integration of family life and work life.” My eyebrows shot up to my forehead at that.

“I don’t think I comprehend,” baba replied, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Your daughter seems to have a keen interest in this country political affairs. Should we find that worrying?” I choked on my spit at that, fire burning my cheeks as everyones eyes landed on me, scouring my reaction. Sarah pat me on the back and handed over her glass of water and I took it with a grateful smile. I peered into the crowd to see who had asked that question. It was a young man; very young actually, appearing to be not a few years older than me. He had gruff features and although his dialogue was respectful, his facial features yelled that he didn’t really care whether he offended me or not. I glared him down and he met my eyes with a steely gaze. 

Well then.

“And why should we be worried?” baba said, barely managing to restrain the anger in his voice.

Before he could respond, someone else spoke up. “I think the more important aspect to focus on here is how Miss Ahmad is shaping the country as a whole. She is a great role model not only to young adults, but the older generation alike.” The voice sounded very familiar and before I could help it, my eyes began searching for the person. When my eyes landed on none other than Mystery Man himself, I bit back a gasp. 

He didn’t meet my eyes but instead, kept his gaze focused to the front of the stage. 

“Very well. I still believe that when family members begin to slither their way into unknown lands, things can become quite dangerous. The course of History demonstrates that the worst of feuds and corruption occur because of internal influences.” 

Oh, this guy had some nerve! I felt Ziad tense up next to me and I put my hand on his under the table, assuring him I was OK. 

“We have seen nothing but good come out of this family and especially Sameena. In the last thirty years that they have been in government, this country has prospered and only bloomed further once Sameena began her many great initiatives,” Mystery Man bit back.

Hushed whispers broke out across the hall and I was feeling very uncomfortable right now. I mean, sure, it was nice of him to defend my honour like that, but firstly, I could have very easily spoken for myself and secondly, I was astounded as to why his tone was so protective. Or at least, that’s how it sounded to my ears. 

In an attempt to prevent things from escalating further than that, Khaled swiftly announced the end of the ‘Q&A’ session and informed people of the prayer rooms for duhur. 

“I wanted to wring his neck,” Ziad grit from beside me. I laughed and waved it off.

“Hey, we did ask for their concerns, and concerns we got. I guess he had a right to say what he wanted to.”

“That doesn’t mean I still don’t feel like inflicting violence.” 

“That man was being awfully rude though,” Sarah added. 

I shrugged my shoulders. “It is what it is.”

“Alright kids, time for us to eat and mingle. Sameena, if that man comes up to you, I don’t want you talking to him alright? I’ve got Salem on watch.” I shook my head at baba’s overprotectiveness but obliged either way. I wasn’t feeling threatened by this man. I could hold my own and it would take a lot more than a few sentences to intimidate me. 

Just like everyone else, after praying, we walked over to the buffet table and picked up a plate. I reached over to grab one of the last samosas, when another hand swiped it up before me. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry sister, did you want this?” Hearing his voice again, I quickly took a peek at him. He didn’t know who he was talking to. 

Laughing at the fact that he was offering me a samosa, I replied amusedly. “No, you can have it. I’m sure they’ll be bringing some more out anyway, I’ll just come back.” 

Surprised, his eyes landed on me briefly before he quirked a smile and looked away. “I insist.” 

“Don’t be silly.” Still smiling, he seemed to reluctantly put it down on his plate. “Thanks for earlier on, by the way. It was nice of you to err, say all that.” 

“No need to thank me. I was just speaking truthfully.” I felt a blush creeping its way onto my face but thankfully, he couldn’t see it. 

“It’s great to have your support. I assure you, my family and I appreciate it,” I said honestly. 

“You’ve always had it,” he replied instantly. At a loss for words, I opened and closed my mouth stupidly. “I’m so rude,” he started, speaking before I could respond. “How is your head?” 

At first I was a little confused and offended at his question. What does he mean ‘how is your head?’ Surely that wasn’t a normal question to ask someone in the middle of conversation. 

Then, it hit me. 

Stupid paps. 

“Alhamdulillah much better, actually.”

“Do you regularly get migraines?”

“Every few months or so,” I responded a little dryly. 

So I had a migraine, so what?! 

I knew he was just being polite and following social etiquette by asking, but it was getting frustrating. About ten people had inquired the same thing just before.

We conversed for a few more minutes, forgetting about our food completely, when I remembered that other people were also waiting to speak to me. 

“I should probably see to other people now. But it was nice seeing you again.” I gave him a genuine smile when his eyes flickered my way once more. 

“It was lovely to see you too, Sameena. I hope you take care of yourself,” he spoke, moving away slightly. “I don’t want to see you unconscious on the front cover of my morning newspaper!” he gibed. 

I threw my head back and laughed heartily before waving goodbye. As I turned to head back to the table I realised two things.

I had no food on my plate.

I still didn’t know Mystery Man’s real name!

Ugh.

Definitions:

Duhur: Afternoon prayer

Alhamdulillah: ‘Praise be to Allah SWT.’

A/N

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