"Rose, what's wrong?" Emily grumbled as she roused from her sleep.
Rosette lay motionless as her eyes lingered fearfully on the tip of the spear nestled between her breasts. She lifted her gaze until it rested on a head covered with a black turban. Then it drifted to a pair of black eyes, thick arched eyebrows, and plump lips almost hidden beneath a mustache and thick beard.
"Angel, what... what's happening?" Rosette stuttered, her voice filled with concern. Instead of calling out to Mary or Emily, she turned to Angel for support, knowing that Angel was the most dependable of the women in the group.
Angel was anxious. She did not feel the presence of the people around them until it was too late.
Three men barged into their tent, which collapsed, revealing the four women reclining on their sleeping bags. At that moment, Angel noticed that all the men from their group had been captured by a large group of over fifty men who resembled the Arabian warriors she had only previously seen in movies.
The men wore long, flowing tunics adorned with intricate patterns along the edges. Like the three men who first entered their tent, they wore a black turban around their heads.
They forced the women to stand up in line opposite Leoric and the rest of the survivors.
Angel lowered her eyes while observing Leoric, Gavin, Mario, Captain Niel, and the Chief Engineer, Octavio Saner. She wondered why they seemed helpless and did not show any resistance.
She also knew that some of the crew were Leoric's secret bodyguards. Why were they unable to fight off?
"They used incense that put us all to sleep and weakened us," Gavin spoke when he felt Angel's gaze lingered on him.
Thud.
A warrior hit Gavin with the hilt of his sword.
The doctor groaned in pain and clenched his fist.
Emily stifled a scream.
"My Prince, these people are not simple. Their carriages are made of iron, and there are no horses. They also dressed differently." One of the warriors who donned a lamellar armor over his tunic spoke respectfully to a man who was astride a magnificent stallion.
Angel slightly raised her head and looked at the man who spoke. He was speaking an ancient language that she could understand.
The man dismounted the dark brown stallion and approached the four women standing in line, their hair still disheveled from sleep.
He was dressed in an elegant cream-colored robe made from fine fabrics. The robe flowed gracefully around his muscular form but did not hide the impressive build beneath. A black cloak with gold trimmings draped over his broad shoulders, adding an air of majesty and sophistication.
Angel knew by his aura that he must be a royal. His clothes symbolized his status and wealth. The turban on his head was red and held in place by a black chord.
He stepped in front of Emily, roughly placing his hand under her chin and forcing her to look up.
"What are you going to do? Leoric, help me!" Emily screamed.
"Stop screaming, you idiot. Do you want to anger them?" Rosette, standing beside her, reprimanded her.
The prince scrutinized Emily's hair intently. Her hair was dyed silver, but a few centimeters of brunette peeked through at the roots.
Emily was shocked when she looked into the face of the man a few inches from hers. His face was striking, with sharp, well-defined features that exuded charisma and authority. He had a strong jawline and high cheekbones. His neatly groomed, thick beard enhanced his masculinity and added to his dignified appearance.
Emily could not take her eyes off him. For a moment, she forgot about Leoric. Leoric was handsome, but the man before her was handsome in a rugged way.
"What a beautiful witch. Where are you from? Why are your eyes different?" The prince asked her, but Emily did not understand his words. She shook her head to indicate that she did not understand.
The prince frowned and was disappointed. He released his hold on her and stepped in front of Rosette.
Rose, like her cousin Diana, had blonde hair and blue eyes. The prince's gaze lingered on her face for a long time before he stepped in front of Mary, who was trembling like a sieve being shaken.
Mary was a middle-aged woman with black hair and dark brown eyes. The prince did not waste a second in front of her.
Leoric, Gavin, Mario, and even Alec were clenching their fists. The arrogant man in front of them acted like he was inspecting gifts presented to him. However, they were helpless as their arms were bound by rope.
When they were taken captive, Leoric instructed them not to fight back and to conserve their strength, which was already running low. They were all hopeful that they would have a greater chance of survival if they could just make it out of the unforgiving desert.
The prince of the desert warriors was now standing in front of Angel. The woman was taller than the first two. Her eyes were at the level of his lips. Her head was wrapped in a red shawl, hiding her hair color from his view.
He lifted her chin and forced her to look up to him.
Angel looked into a pair of deep, captivating almond-shaped eyes. His penetrating gaze reflected strength and seemed to arrest Angel. His brows were thick and arched, framing his eyes with intensity, and his nose was strong and slightly aquiline.
When he met her gaze, the man faltered and stepped back.
Angel frowned. Was he scared of her?
The prince recovered after losing his composure. He stepped forward and was now even closer to Angel. He reached out and slowly unfurled the turban covering her head.
The turban slipped off Angel's head and landed on her delicate foot. A soft breeze drifted from the east, coaxing her loosely curled hair to sway elegantly in the gentle wind.
The prince's hand froze.
The desert warriors let out a collective gasp.