Summer crouched towards the corner of the balcony and continued breathing heavily. She pulled her knees towards her chest and sobbed as tears flowed from her moist eye. As she sat there helplessly she happened to see Sheikh Aazim practising his targets down in the garden.
"Stand still Uzair or you'll drop the fig from your head," Aazim warned the slave who was standing at a distance away from him.
"Your majesty please take a bigger target, this fig is too small! How about the watermelon?" The slave trembled as Aazim adjusted his arrow.
"I would be surprised if your shaky legs were to carry such load on your head for long," Aazim remarked and raised the bow and arrow.
"Your majesty, please spare me. I've seven kids to look after and plan to have more soon," The slave begged and asked to
