Chapter 170: I do

Soon, she was made to sit on a chair in front of Shehryaar. Long strands of flowers, acting as

a wall, separated them, inhibiting their vision. A veil covered her face from everyone. The

veil was intended for the groom to be the only one to see the bride's face for the first time

after their marriage. Guests who stood around Sheharzaad were somehow trying to catch a

glimpse of her face, but the veil played its role. Shehryaar had requested the veil to be

placed over Sheharzaad's head to cover her face because he wanted to be the first person to

set his eyes on her once she became his wife.

Sheharzaad's eyes were downcast, staring at anything but him. Sweat accumulated in her

hands due to nervousness.

She was about to enter a new phase of her life—a phase that was going to be dark and

depressing, yet one about which she had always dreamt.

While sitting in that chair, dressed as a bride but with her soul shivering, it made her realize

a lot of things. There was a time in her life when she took pride in her beauty, considering

herself the center of attention because of it. Maybe it wasn't just pride; it had an element of

arrogance as well.

Arrogance which led to...

"Pride hath a fall."

She had now fully understood the meaning behind these words.

She stopped herself from digging into the past.

She had always thought that her husband would be the most handsome person in the world,

with a dashing personality, an eye-catcher.

And Shehryaar was everything she had dreamt of, even exceeding her expectations in looks

and personality.

But her shaking soul reminded her that beauty never covers up anything. It would never

conceal the evil, danger, and fear she carried for her future husband.

Her throat felt restricted, her breathing becoming difficult. It was one of the most difficult

moments of her life.

Such anxiousness.

Such apprehension.

Such intense fear.

She had never experienced anything like it.

Her eyes slightly moved up and caught his sight. His gaze was fixed on her. The intensity in

his eyes unnerved her, and she quickly moved her gaze back to her lap, her hands slightly

trembling.

He was staring at her as if no one else was there, just her and him. His eyes on her were so

intense that it seemed as if the world didn't matter—only her.

He exercised his dominance over her with a single stare.

When Shehryaar saw her—his bride—walking toward him, he felt his heart skip a beat. His

eyes followed her every step until she reached and sat in front of him. His gaze never left

her for a second. His hand itched to tear down the flowers that restricted his vision. He had

never wanted to see her as much as he did now. He wanted the nikkah to be done as soon as

possible so he could take her to his room and steal her ability to walk.

It was getting harder for him to control himself with every passing second. He hadn’t

realized how much he’d been waiting for this moment since the day his eyes first settled on

hers.

He never knew that one stare, one gaze, one look would lead to this marriage today.

All the while, his gaze didn't waver, and his eyes couldn’t get weary of glancing at her.

There she sat, his wife-to-be.

The molvi (priest) was brought to the setting and was made to sit next to Sheharzaad.

She felt the life slowly evaporating from her body.

This was the moment.

She was going to give herself to him.

He would have every right over her after today.

He would become her husband.

"Do you, Sheharzaad Qureshi, daughter of Murtaza Qureshi, accept Shehryaar Haider Syed,

son of Haider Shabbir Syed, as your husband in nikkah?" he asked.

Her lips ceased as she gulped, sweat popping from the sides of her forehead. Her breathing

became strained, her legs shivering.

A tear.

A tear made its way from her eye, but she couldn’t sob. Her voice was stuck in her throat.

A multitude of thoughts rushed through her mind, similar to the adrenaline coursing

through her veins. She went into a stunned state, her brain halting its thinking process.

Her eyes moved toward Shehryaar, whose eagle eyes were on her.

Still, those piercing grey eyes didn’t help push out the voice stilled in the base of her throat.

She tried to force the words from her system, but she couldn’t.

The fear she had for him was not enough. Her body needed something else more than just

an intense fear.

“Yes… I agree to marry you,”

Her words.

The words he had given to her. They echoed in her mind, causing her heart to beat as if it

had stopped. The drumming sound in her ears subsided as she looked back at the molvi,

who repeated the question for her.

He was halfway through the question when she uttered, "I do."

The question was repeated twice more as she said again in a trembling whisper, "I do."

It was her principles, her moral values, her core beliefs.

Her identity.

The true her.

The reformed her... after that one particular incident.

It was that which made her say yes. It was what pushed the breath out of her throat and

brought her back from the mental paralysis she had been experiencing.

More than his fear, it was her values, which, despite the mental torment, still managed to

stay with her, guiding her to this decision.

She wouldn’t back off from her words.

The papers were passed to her for signing, and she held the pen. A finger pointed to where

she was supposed to sign, and she placed the tip of the pen there. Her hands couldn’t grasp

the pen because of the intensity with which they were trembling. Silent tears escaped her

eyes as her petite frame shook with small hiccups.