Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Less than thirty minutes later, I finish signing the last page of my contract, thus cementing my agreement to becoming the kingdom of Ramil’s newest scholar.
“You are meeting with Lace and Silver after this?” the sheikh asks as we both rise to our feet.
“Yes, sheikh.”
“I believe they’re still at the courtyard. Let me take you to them.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay, sheikh,” I say quickly. “I can manage—-”
The sheikh bares his teeth in a smile that’s as devastating as it’s terrifying. “I insist.” In other words, do what he says or off with my head.
“Yes, sheikh.”
A couple of maids walking the opposite direction see us as we step out into the hallway, and they quickly bow to the sheikh while their glances dart towards me with great interest. Oh no. According to Lace, palace rumors had once caused great trouble for the Emir Sheikh and his American wife, and I definitely don’t want to cause the sheikh the same kind of trouble.
I wait until the maids are completely gone before asking uneasily, “Is that okay, sheikh? I think they’ve gotten the wrong idea about us.”
“Have they?”
“Umm.” Can somebody please invent a rewind button for the brain? It would be so handy, especially when the people you’re talking to love to do the most unexpected things—-
Like a sheikh flirting with a nobody.
The sheikh suddenly smirks.
And I realize that I’ve actually spoken the words out loud.
“Yes, I do believe I am flirting,” the sheikh says silkily.
“B-but...”
“But I beg to disagree on the ‘nobody’ part.”
I try my best to make sense of what’s happening, but it’s impossible.
“I don’t understand,” I say lamely.
“What’s there to misunderstand?”
“Because you’re...you’re supposed to be into horses.”
“And so I am,” the sheikh answers mildly, “but not that way.”
It takes me one second too many before I realize what he thought I was implying, and my cheeks burst into fire. “No, sir, I mean, sheikh. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that Silver told me you were as mad about horses as Lace is about basketball, and so I thought you’d be too busy to be interested in women like Lace was at the start and so I didn’t really mean to offend—-”
When the sheikh’s lips start to curve, I stop speaking.
Did. I. Just. Babble?
The sheikh smirks.
Yes. I. Did.
“I am so sorry, sheikh.”
“There is nothing to say sorry for. You’re quite entertaining when you lower your guard, and now that you’ve mentioned it, I do notice the similarities.”
“S-similarities?”
“Yes, similarities. You have some of the most important qualities I look for in a mare.”
“O-oh.” A mare? I have the same qualities as a mare?
He suddenly steps closer towards me, and I can’t help rearing back. He continues moving forward...and...forward...and...
Thud.
My back hits something solid, and I yelp. His hands slam against the wall, and I yelp again. How in the world did I end up in this position?
The sheikh moves even closer, and I freeze.
“I like my mares skittish.”
But I’m not a mare, I want to protest.
“They’re a joy to train—-”
But I’m still not a mare.
“And after that, they become the sweetest and most biddable thing.”
Like you can be, his words silently imply.
And I no longer know what to think.
Bloody hell.
I know I asked for God’s help to move on, but...this is bad. Or good. No, it’s bad. Oh, I don’t know what to think anymore.
Word of the Day: Otaku, n.
1. A Japanese term generally used in reference to individuals typecast as ‘uncool’ for their obsession with manga, anime, games, or computers.
2. Equivalent to ‘geek’ and ‘nerd’ in English
3. May not be used to refer to ‘uncool’ individuals obsessed with their exes and bad breakups.
“Arigatou gozaimasu.” It means ‘thank you’ in Nihongo, and I silently savor the way every syllable slides off my tongue as I thank the 7-11 cashier after taking my breakfast: a huge seaweed-wrapped onigiri, soft-boiled egg, and a can of hot oolong tea.
Moving to the dine-in counter table at the back of the convenience store, I take my time unwrapping my onigiri. It means ‘rice ball,’ although it doesn’t actually always come in the shape of one, and there’s an art to unwrapping it if you don’t want to end up with your nori sheet stuck between layers of plastic.
I inhale appreciatively after unwrapping; the one I’m about to gobble up is triangular in shape and has my favorite stuffing: tuna with a generous amount of Japanese mayo and creamy corn.
Itadakimasu, I tell myself silently before I start on my meal. The term loosely translates to ‘bon appétit,’ and locals always say it the way Christians like to say grace before meals. My eyes close as I savor my first bite, but only five minutes pass by the time I’m done. It’s not that I’m a fast eater, but everything I’ve eaten here is just that good.
My next stop after breakfast is the administration building, and I finish the last of the registration process to complete my transfer. On my way back, I bump into a couple of gregarious gyaru (tongue twister not intended) who ooh and aah when they find out that my reddish-brown hair and green eyes are the real deal.