Chapter 6: 6. Perfect n


    ***


    Writer’s POV:


    The next day, when the sultan left the pce, with his Queen, Asahd decided to once again, disobey


    his dear parents.


    He invited a group of girls that worked for his infamous friend, Abdul, and were shameless women.


    Escort girls, in other words.


    He sat with them in the gardens, sipping on some expensive wine, while the girls pampered and


    ttered him. It was so disgraceful for a Prince of that status, but he did not give a damn. He was


    dishonoring his parents, and right there in the pce. When Sa?da saw what was going on, she rushed


    to report to her father who was shocked at the news.


    “When will that boy, ever learn!” an angry Djafar stormed out of his room and down to the gardens,


    Sa?da behind him.


    -


    “My Prince, what is this?!” Djafar demanded, trying to keep his cool.


    “Hey, hey, hey,” Asahd started in a rather drowsy manner. Djafar realised, he was already very drunk.


    “Don’t walk up to me and start shouting, okay?”


    “Asahd, do you know what will happen if the sultan sees you like this?? Don’t you pity your old man?


    When will you change?”


    Asahdughed drunkenly and the women at his sides, did same.


    “I’m untouchable. He can do nothing. You can do, nothing,” he chuckled and then, finally, he noticed


    Sa?da. “You reported, right? You’re the one who reported. Why are you so–”


    “Asahd!” Djafar cut in, forgetting the protocol and royal obligations he had towards the Prince. “Send


    these women away, before the Sultan and Queen return. I’m doing this for your own good.”


    “I do not–” he choked a little. “I do not give a damn. Fuck them, fuck you, fuck Sa?da and every single


    person that tries to tell me what to do.”


    “All of you!” Djafar pointed at the women. “Leave. Now!”


    The women were going to do as told by the Royal authority, but Asahd stopped them.


    “They are going nowhere,” he growled lowly at Djafar. It was getting reallyplicated.


    “Asahd–” Djafar cut his sentence when he heard the Royal horn, signaling the sultan’s return. “Asahd,


    your father is back. Get rid of these women.”


    “I’m not scared of him.”


    DJafar tried to persuade him one more time, but it was toote. The sultan appeared, followed by his


    Queen. What they saw, shocked them. The sultan angrily stormed towards the table where his son sat.


    The Queen followed, worried and begging her husband to calm down because that anger he felt at the


    moment, could be dangerous for his health.


    “What is this?!” he growled at his son. “Shameless women! Leave my pce!” he ordered and the


    women literally ran away.


    “That was so unfair of you,” Asahd scoffed at his father and stood. He almost fell because of how the


    alcohol was affecting him.


    “And he is drunk?!”


    Djafar and the Queen hopelessly tried to calm the sultan.


    “Please, your Highness,” the Queen begged.


    “You see your son?? You see what he is??”


    Asahd who was watching the scene, unaffected, scoffed, grabbed his car keys and was going to leave.


    “Where do you think you are going to?!” the sultan growled and immediately called his guards.


    “GUARDS! GUARDS!”


    The Royal guards came running over.


    “Grab him and lock him up in his room until I give orders to let him go!”


    “What?!” Asahd couldn’t believe his ears. The guards immediately grabbed him, trapping him.


    “Make sure he doesn’t leave this pce! Or that room! Else, your heads go down!” the sultan then


    turned to Asahd. “You stay up there until I decide what to do with your ungrateful and disrespectful,


    self! Take him away!”


    The guards did as told and took an angry and drunk Asahd away. The sultan’s chest began to hurt him


    and so the Queen, as well as Djafar helped him sit. Sa?da retired to the pce and returned with some


    water for the sultan. He drank and felt better. She then left them to speak.


    “My dear, are you okay?” the Queen asked, worried.


    “Djafar?” the sultan called.


    “Yes, your Majesty?” Djafar bowed.


    “I need you toe up with something. A punishment for Asahd.”


    “Me, sire?” Djafar asked, surprised.


    “Yes. You are still the senior royal adviser, aren’t you? I need advice on what to do with him,” the sultan


    was sick of Asahd’s behavior. “You have the night to think ande up with something. Something that


    is sure to change Asahd without having to hurt him physically or psychologically. Understood?”


    “Yes, your Majesty. First thing, tomorrow morning, I’ll give you a possible solution.”


    “Good,” he stood and helped by the Queen, they returned to the pce. Djafar was left to think. He had


    a night toe up with the perfect punishment.


    ***


    Djafar finally came up with something, over the night. He didn’t tell Sa?da or anyone else about it. The


    sultan was to hear it first.


    The next morning, at eight, Djafar appeared before the sultan’s throne. The man and his Queen had


    been waiting for this moment.


    “Good morning, your Majesty,” Djafar bowed to them.


    “Good morning, Djafar,” they replied.


    “Please tell me what you came up with,” the sultan said and Djafar immediately did so.


    “Your Highness,” he started. “I believe that what contributes to the Prince’s dishonoring behavior, is the


    wealth he is surrounded with. He has no limit and the fact that he can use this money as he wishes,


    adds to the Prince’s arrogance.”


    “Mm. So you propose we reduce his allowance?” the sultan asked.


    “I propose the Prince learns to be independent. Without the financial assistance of his royal status. He


    should learn to work hard to get what he wants. Even if it’s temporal. Until he changespletely, and


    we have observed that he truly has, then his royal facilities shall be restored.”


    The sultan smiled at his Queen, loving this idea.


    “You hear that?” he asked with a littleugh.


    “It’s a good idea,” the queen agreed, happily.


    “Perfect, Djafar.”


    “I live to serve, your Highness,” Djafar bowed, pleased the sultan had loved his idea.


    “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. And I know how!” the sultan said and Djafar, as well as the


    Queen, were all ears.


    “Yes, sire?”


    “He will be sent away. I will send him away to a foreign country, where no one knows about his Royal


    status. Where no one will grant him favors. Where he will have no choice but to work.”


    “But where?” the Queen asked.


    “New York or Georgia,” the sultan replied. “But he won’t go alone. Djafar, you as well as Sa?da, will go


    with him. To supervise him and make sure he changes.”


    “Yes, your Majesty,” Djafar replied, though very surprised at what the king had just said.


    “You will chose between these two cities, Djafar. I will give you some money so when you get there,


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    you find an average looking apartment with three rooms for each of you. Something simple, if possible,


    with one bathroom and toilet. Asahd will have to deal with the simple life. You will buy new clothes for


    yourselves. Clothes that will make you fit in themunity, perfectly. Nothing Royal. Nothing


    expensive. Simple. No one should know who you really are.”


    Djafar listened, silently.


    “You will be his father, there. And Sa?da, his sister. No one should even have a hint on who you really


    are. I’ll give you enough money which you will use for only necessary things like, food, bills and any


    other thing that is really needed or important. However, you will make Asahd believe that he has to


    work and contribute to pay the bills. He will be stubborn at first, and so, I give you permission to starve


    him. If he refuses to work, buy food for only Sa?da and yourself. I know him. He loves food and will not


    Djafar listened, realising that this n had a 90% chance of working out perfectly.


    “And hopefully, before the end of the summer holidays, he must have tasted themon life, learned


    to work for what he wants and be humble,” the king ended, satisfied.


    “It is perfect,” the Queenughed.


    “I agree,” Djafar mused.


    “Thank you,” the sultan smiled. “Djafar you will have to he strict with him. I know you consider Asahd


    like a second son. You are literally a second father to my boy, and that’s why I’m sending you. If you


    truly want what is best for him, be strict. You have that habit too, of giving in to his demands, but this


    time, if you want him to change just as much we want the same thing, you will have to be strict.”


    “I will, sire. I will,” Djafar promised.


    “Good. I’ll make sure the right papers are made for all three of you, so by after tomorrow, you will be


    leaving Zagreh. Tell Sa?da. You will travel with only the clothes, you will have on you that day, because


    you will need new and simple ones. And other necessities, too. Do not tell the Prince. He might try to


    escape. We’ll make him believe, we’re sending him on vacation in the US. He will know nothing, until


    he gets there. I will block all his foreign bank ounts, so he doesn’t try to withdraw money and run,”


    the sultanughed. “The thought already amuses me. This is going to work, for sure.”


    ~~~~~~