Royalty Gone Bad

Chapter 6: 6. Perfect Plan

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Writer’s POV:

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

his dear parents. Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

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

flattered 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 palace. When Saïda 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,

Saïda 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?”

Asahd laughed 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

Saïda. “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 Saïda 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 really complicated.

“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 too late. 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 palace!” 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 palace! 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. Saïda retired to the palace 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 to come 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 and come 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 palace. Djafar was left to think. He had

a night to come up with the perfect punishment.

***

Djafar finally came up with something, over the night. He didn’t tell Saïda 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 changes completely, 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 little laugh.

“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 Saïda, 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,

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 the community, perfectly. Nothing Royal. Nothing

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

Djafar listened, silently.

“You will be his father, there. And Saïda, 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 Saïda and yourself. I know him. He loves food and will not

last for long. He will give in, eventually.”

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

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

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

“It is perfect,” the Queen laughed.

“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 Saïda. 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 accounts, so he doesn’t try to withdraw money and run,”

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

~~~~~~