The Voice of Azzam

At the top of the grand entrance stood Prince Kamil, posture straight, expression calm, the kind of calm that masked calculation. Beside him, Queen Mother Samitra watched every movement with the sharp pride of a ruler who saw her bloodline as legacy, not family. 

Kamil looked every inch the ruler he was born to become, yet his mind was far from the ceremony.

That voice from yesterday still lingered.

A voice that stopped his breath, even though he never saw the girl.

Just a silhouette - a small back, slim, graceful, bent toward the flowers near the courtyard's fountain.

He had stood there for several seconds, unseen, watching the way her hair shimmered beneath the sunlight, the way her hum seemed to weave into the rustling leaves.

And then, before he could take a step closer, someone had called his name - and the moment was gone.

"Your Highness," Queen Mother Samitra's voice broke through his silence. "Compose yourself. The gates are opening."

Kamil exhaled quietly and nodded. "Yes, Mother."

From a short distance, Kaan watched, eyes dark, jaw tight. Bashi noticed the flicker of emotion - interest, jealousy, something close to possession - and smiled faintly, the kind of smile that never reached the eyes.

"She's here," Queen Ayisha murmured quietly. A convoy of luxury black vehicles rolled in immediately the massive gate opened tinted windows, royal insignias glinting beneath the sun, escorted by motorcades bearing Nalal's crimson crest. Nalal - Azzam's strongest ally, and its most dangerous rival.

The central door opened. Princess Jodha stepped out. Every camera flash seemed to chase her at once. Her heels clicked softly against the marble as she approached, her emerald gown catching the light in waves. She smiled. 

Then Kamil descended the steps, offering his hand.

"Princess Jodha," he said, voice calm and even. 

"Welcome to Azzam." Her hand slid into his. "My prince, Azzam is even more breathtaking than I remember," she said. "Or perhaps, it's your welcome that makes it so".

"Perhaps it only shines this way for guests," Kamil replied, his lips curving ever so slightly.

Queen Ayisha stepped forward gracefully. "The royal council awaits inside. Let's not keep them waiting."

Jodha's gaze lingered on Kamil a moment longer before she nodded and allowed herself to be led toward the golden hall. But Kamil's eyes drifted elsewhere - toward the far end of the courtyard, near the servants' line, where a young girl in a simple linen dress carried a tray of petals. For a second, he froze.

Something in the way she moved,  the way she hummed faintly under her breath - it was her.

The voice. Kamil's gaze followed that girl until she disappeared behind the golden doors. Behind them, courtiers whispered softly. Some admired Jodha's beauty; others wondered how soon the marriage talks would begin. The procession turned toward the palace doors, Lady Mirian stood silently above the entrance platform. Her gaze followed Kamil, She smiled faintly.

Everyone looked at Jodha.

No one looked at her.She told herself it didn't matter. That Kamil was her stepbrother and that's all. She tried to shift her gaze away but but her eyes betrayed her. They followed him - the way his hand stretched out lightly for Jodha, the calm focus in his face, the quiet authority in how he stood beside the princess while walking into the grand hall.

He looked like the future of Azzam. And she hated that it made her heart ache.

"Admiring the crown again?"

The voice behind her was low, almost mocking.

She turned. Kaan stood at the edge of the balcony, leaning casually against the rail, his smile all sharp edges.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people," Mirian said evenly.

Kaan's smirk deepened. "You were too busy staring to notice."

Her eyes narrowed. "Careful, Kaan. You sound like you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He chuckled under his breath. "Hardly. But I find it... interesting. The way you look at him."

Mirian's jaw tightened. "Watch your words."

"I'm only saying what everyone else pretends not to see," he murmured, stepping closer.

"You hide it well, but not from me."

She held his gaze. "And what exactly do you think you see?"

"Longing," Kaan said simply. "And fear."

Then Mirian smiled, slow and deliberate. "Be careful, Kaan. You're playing too close to a fire that doesn't care who it burns."

He tilted his head. "Maybe I like the heat."

Before she could reply, the soft chime of the palace intercom interrupted them.

"All royal members are requested in the grand hall."Mirian turned toward the sound, breaking the tension. "Duty calls," she said.

Kaan's eyes lingered on her as she walked away, his grin fading into something darker.

"I'll see you there," he said quietly.

The grand hall glowed beneath towering chandeliers. Reporters, diplomats, and council members filled the space, their murmurs blending with the orchestral hum in the background.

Kamil stood near the center, Jodha at his side - poised, smiling, saying all the right things. Queen Mother Samitra observed from her seat. Bashi hovered nearby, laughter smooth, eyes always calculating.

Mirian entered last, calm, composed. Her steps slowed when she caught Kamil's gaze -brief, polite, distant.

He nodded once.

She smiled in return. Across the room, Kaan watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. At the banquet, Kamil sat at the head of the table, Queen Mother Samitra to his right, Princess Jodha to his left. Her perfume was soft but distinct.

"Your city is stunning, Your Highness," Jodha said, swirling her wine delicately. "I could feel its pulse even before we landed. It's... alive."

Kamil offered a courteous nod. "Azzam thrives on its people. They're the true crown of this kingdom."

"Spoken like a ruler who loves his land," she replied, smiling faintly. "Or perhaps like one trying to impress his future queen?"

The words hung like smoke.

A few seats down, Bashi laughed too loudly. "Ah, Princess, your wit is sharper than rumor claimed."

"Rumors travel faster than truth," Jodha said coolly, her eyes never leaving Kamil's."Indeed," Queen Mother Samitra added smoothly. "And truth has a way of revealing itself when the time is right."

Bashi bowed his head slightly, hiding a smirk. "Then I hope we all live long enough to see it."

Kaan's eyes flicked toward his father - a silent exchange neither approving nor dissenting, but full of shared understanding.

Across the table, Mirian lowered her gaze to her plate, the silver fork trembling slightly between her fingers. Every compliment Jodha threw felt like a spark against her skin. Kamil remained composed, distant but attentive.

"Tell me, Your Highness," Jodha said softly, leaning closer, "do you ever tire of all this?" She gestured

He paused. "Tired isn't the word. But peace is... rare."

"Then perhaps," she murmured, "you simply haven't met the right person to share it with."

Queen Ayisha cleared her throat, forcing a polite smile. "Shall we raise a toast to the union between two great kingdoms?" 

Glasses lifted.

Kamil's glass stayed steady in his hand, his eyes on the reflection of Jodha's smile in the wine.

Across the table, Mirian couldn't drink. Her throat was tight, her heart louder than the music. 

When the toast ended, Queen Mother Samitra rose gracefully. "We'll give our guests a tour of the palace before the council resumes tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate."

The musicians began to play - soft strings, royal rhythm. As the crowd shifted, Jodha leaned close once more.

"Your Highness," she whispered, "tell me - is it true the gardens behind the east wing are where Azzam's crown princes go to think?"

Kamil's lips curved faintly. "Sometimes."

"Then I hope you'll show me," she said, eyes gleaming. "I'd like to see where the future king hides his thoughts."Bashi caught the exchange - and his smirk deepened.

He didn't need to sabotage the crown prince tonight. If Jodha's charm didn't distract him, her secrets surely would.

Earlier That Morning

Students poured out of Azzam Academy, some cheering, others already planning their next escape.

Milan stood by the neem tree, her bag clutched to her chest, watching Mabel and Mikel from a distance. The twins were surrounded by friends, laughing.

When Mabel finally noticed her, she waved, her smile softer - guilty almost. Mikel pretended not to see her.

You could've waited," Milan said quietly when Mabel reached her.

"I told him to," Mabel sighed, "but you know Mikel." Milan nodded.

Hiba appeared, bright as sunlight. "We're done! I swear I'll sleep for a week."

Milan smiled at her best friend. "Enjoy it while it lasts. I already know Mom will find me something to do." Mabel looked away, tightening her grip on her books.

"Maybe she just wants to help you stay busy," Hiba said quickly, trying to lighten the air.

"Maybe," Milan murmured, though both she and Mabel knew it wasn't true.

They walked together until Hiba's street came up. She hugged them both before leaving, whispering to Milan. 

That evening, Amy called her into the living room.

"Your father's been asking for help in the royal kitchen. You'll start tomorrow."Amy said , not raising her eyes from the cup she's holding.

Mabel glanced up, surprised. "She's working in the palace?"Amy's lips curved. "The palace is recruiting new maids for the crown prince. Your father got her the form. Let her make herself useful."

Milan just nodded. It wasn't an offer ,it was an order. Plus she will finally be free and far from her stepmother. 

Later in the next , she arrived at the palace. Her father met her briefly at the back entrance, handing her a silver tray filled with rose petals.

"Take this to the courtyard. They'll need it for the princess's arrival," he said kindly.

She smiled faintly and obeyed.

As she crossed the courtyard, she began to hum - softly, unconsciously - the same melody

🎶I could tell what peace is but it hasn't found me , 🎶I could tell what life is but it hasn't breath in me. 🎶If anyone finds it , Tell it Milan need it 

🎶My mother was me before the night day goes dark 🎶My mother named me wishing I would be her 🎶And I realized I was her before the day goes dark.