The Unlucky Bride Is Loved by the Fortunate Desert King - Chapter 2 - The Lucky Desert King

“Didn’t I already say it!? I have no intention of getting married!!”

As’ad Al-Aziz leaned back arrogantly on his lavish sofa. The deep blue fabric embroidered with golden arabesque patterns alone was worth tens of millions in Japanese yen.

This country’s prince, As’ad Al-Aziz. Hair the color of dawn-dark indigo, a well-trained, sun-bronzed body.
His eyes shone like amethysts, though now they were half-lidded as he glared at his aide.

“Even if you tell me, it won’t change anything. It was decided by your father. Please tell him directly.”
The young man who served As’ad — Ishaq — sighed, used to the prince’s constant complaints.

“I’m allergic to women! The moment one touches me; I break out in hives. How am I supposed to get married like that? Do they want me dead!?”

“That, too, you should say to the King directly.”

“I’ve said it over and over, and it still hasn’t been canceled — that’s why I’m telling you, Ishaq!”
“I don’t care.”
“Hey, that attitude—”

Ishaq gave no answer, clearly tired of humoring him.

“Hey, Tama. Ishaq’s being cruel. Should I just bite him to death?” The answering nyaon didn’t come from a cat. It came from a lion — As’ad’s lion, its golden mane shining magnificently.

“That’s not funny, so please stop. What if Tama takes you seriously?”
“Tama isn’t that stupid. He understands me well, don’t you?”
As’ad stroked the lion’s throat, and it rolled over with a rumbling purr, showing its belly.

Raised like a cat, Tama had grown more feline in nature than leonine. But the way it easily dealt with intruders proved it was still a beast at heart.

“Maybe she isn’t coming anymore. Today was the day, wasn’t it? The bride was supposed to arrive.”
Ishaq glanced at the clock. It was already nine at night.

“Oh, that’s right. If that’s the case, then lucky me. I really am always fortunate. If I don’t want something, it runs away on its own.”

“I’m impressed by your uncanny luck, truly. Perhaps so this time as well. Maybe some trouble occurred.”

As’ad hummed in thought, then suddenly stood up.
“I’m going for a walk. I need a change of mood.”
“Now!? At this hour!?” Ishaq couldn’t help but raise his voice.
“Yes. Tell Father something for me. Also, bring me something to wear.”

He gave crisp orders with the air of a future king, someone long used to command.

“There may be bandits out there. Please be careful.”
“Then I’ll ride Tama.”
“Absolutely not. The people will be terrified.”
“Then a camel, I suppose.”
“I’ll arrange it with the stables.”

Handing him a warm cloak, Ishaq frowned. “I have a bad feeling. Please return safely.”
“You’re exaggerating. Didn’t you just say I’m lucky?”
“That’s different.”
“Well, it’ll be the same as always. I’ll win again. Just watch. As long as I don’t run into some hopelessly unlucky person, my good fortune will never fail.”

Laughing with the ease of a man who ruled the world, As’ad dashed out into the desert night.

Chapter 3 – The Encounter of Good Luck and Bad Luck (Part One)

Dear Father, Mother, and my little sister, It has been a little while since I left Japan. How are you all doing? As for me— I am. I am— now facing a life-or-death crisis.

Sincerely, who was it who joked that “crossing a desert alone won’t kill you”? It was me. I want to tell that past me: this bad luck was only the very start.

Sure, being left in a place with nothing but desert was nothing but bad luck. But now, a few wolves with bloody eyes and drooling jaws stand before me. They are surrounded by rough-looking men who I guess own the wolves.

I wanted someone to come — but not like this.

“What are you doing out here? Alone?” The wolves answered with low growls.

“No, please don’t worry about me…” Really, I wanted them to help me so badly. If someone gave me even one drop of water I would cry.

Still, the thugs circling me like they were sizing me up and the wolves meant they probably wouldn’t help.

No—maybe judging by looks is unfair. Maybe they are kind at heart, and the wolves are actually dogs.
I forced myself to stop and begged in a shaking voice.

“Excuse me. I’m lost… Could you please help me?” The thugs grinned at each other.

“Lost, huh. That’s convenient.”

Ah — maybe it’s hopeless after all. They said “convenient.” That can’t be good. But maybe—maybe there was still a chance! I told myself that.

“W-What do you mean by ‘convenient’…?” The leader, the one with a Mohawk, didn’t answer directly. He asked, “Which would you prefer — to die here, or to die a little later?”

“Huh?”
“Answer fast!” As he turned, he swung an axe down near my hair with a whish, and a single long strand was nicked off with a tiny snip.

No way. All the bl00d drained from my face. I’m used to bad luck, but no one had ever swung an axe that close to me in Japan. Not yet. If I’d been ten centimeters to the left, I’d be badly hurt now.

“I-I’d rather die later!” Die now or die later — I chose to delay time, anything to stay alive.

The thugs were drinking, and laughed, clutching their stomachs. “Of course you would. But dying later’s worse. If you die now, we’ll make the wolves eat you.”

What kind of hell is “dying later” if being wolf-food is better? When you get used to misfortune you can usually guess possibilities, but there were no hints here. I didn’t know my choices.

While I worried, a man with a machete pushed the blade up under my chin.

All their heads had the same Mohawk, so they mostly looked the same.

“Heh. This one could sell for a good price. His skin’s pale and his hair is a light amber, like a foreigner. Not sure what nation he’s from, but he’s a foreigner for sure. No one will trace him.”

They let out crude laughs and stepped in closer.

“Yeah, he’s kind of pretty. He looks like a man, but it’d be a shame to just sell him at auction. Maybe we’ll have our fun with him first, then sell him.”

“Heh — poking holes in him might be good!”

Sell him. Auction. So, the other option besides being wolf food was human trafficking.

At last, I reached the answer. There is no god, no Buddha here. —Run! Every part of me screamed.

The man with the machete moved the blade away from me.

Now was my only chance. I staggered up on the unstable sand and tried to run from the weakest spot.

“Hey, where do you think you’re running off to? You’re our prize. Don’t struggle. Tonight, we’re going to gang-rape you!”

A hand easily caught me at the waist, and I was dragged down onto the sand. “Big bro—this one’s trouble. Should we just fvck him right here?”
“Le-lease me… I— I have to go…!”

This was the worst. “What was going to happen later” had class-changed into “what’s happening now.” Isn’t this far too unlucky, God? Or maybe being a virgin up until this moment was the lucky thing.

“That’s fine, but hmm, what should we do?” The leader licked his lips and looked at me with cold amusement. My spine prickled. The thugs pinned me on my back and ripped open my clothes. My chest was exposed in an instant. I could see them swallowing; their saliva’s glistened.

“Wow, what smooth, pretty skin. Look at those pale pink n1pples. He’s got a nice face and this too looks good.”

“Let me touch him.”

I tried to push their hands away, to resist, but they held me down again. “St-stop! Don’t—stop! Somebody! Somebody—please come!” I shouted, grabbing at straws. But they looked down at me with ugly grins.

“Lost boy, want us to tell you something? This place is twenty kilometers from the city. No one comes out here.” Hearing that hopeless fact left me speechless.

No one would come all the way out here to save me. Impossible. I knew that better than anyone. I’d been unlucky my whole life. I would be raped here, sold. I wouldn’t even meet my fiancé. I’d probably die alone in the desert.

The small hopes I’d held snapped like a thread.

I had always tried to look forward, even when unlucky. When a piano recital I’d practiced for was canceled by a storm. When a car accident hit me on the day of my top-choice university exam after I’d studied from dawn till night. When I only ever got harsh interviews in job hunts.
I still believed there would be some hope somewhere.

But maybe there was no hope at all. Maybe I’d live my whole life like this—unlucky. No reward for trying, no chance to make up mistakes. Friends who left because they couldn’t stand being with someone so unlucky. Relatives who kept their distance as if I were a curse. Old friends who only called to sell something. Did I even have any right to be alive? Would a happy day ever come?

I had always been unlucky. I just wanted to smile through a single day. That simple wish would not come true. Maybe happiness would never visit me—unless a miracle happened.

At that thought, I let my struggling body fall limply into the sand. Indeed, going to marry in place of my sister was impossible from the start. How ridiculous I’d been to come all the way to a foreign country hoping—faintly—that I might still find happiness, even as a substitute.

“What’s this—suddenly so quiet?”
“Well, it’s easier without having to hold him down, right?”

Their hands groping my upper body made me want to cry. Even though I hated it, my body reacted.

“Ugh…h—”

Under the star-filled sky, I was about to be raped by thugs. Tears welled at the corners of my eyes.

Then—A shooting star flew down from the sky. It grew larger, heading straight for me. (What!?) It moved so fast I thought it was a shooting star. But that “shooting star” plunged deep into the arm of the man who had been fondling my hand.
—An arrow.

“Guaaah! It hurts! Where from—?!” The man who’d jumped back from me looked around. The other men, who had swarmed me like hyenas, tensed and readied their weapons.

(Who—could it be…?)

I scrambled up, not knowing what was happening. Then, alone in the moonlight, a man appeared.
His hair was a dawn-like indigo, his skin sun-bronzed and well-built. He looked almost unearthly, as if no human could be that handsome—an artwork made by a god.

The way he notched another arrow made him seem like Apollo from Greek myth. He wore a calm, kingly smile on that handsome face; I couldn’t help but be stunned.

Then, in a pleasantly low voice, he said with cool nonchalance: “You there. You look like you’re in trouble. I’ve got someone I need to go fetch. I won’t refuse to help you while I’m at it.”

Full of refreshing confidence and an arrogant grin, the man looked at me and smiled as he approached.