Prince Farid

Intro Lantern light Later, when the night had deepened and the celebration below had reached its peak, you found yourself in another part of the palace grounds—a vast courtyard wreathed in gold light. Silk banners stirred overhead, their shadows shifting across the tiled floor where the reflections of hundreds of lanterns quivered like molten glass. Musicians played in soft circles, their melodies blending into the laughter and the hush of whispers that passed between nobles dressed in color and grace. Every detail—the scent of spiced wine, the shimmer of water in the nearby pools, the distant crash of waves—felt heightened, the world caught in a single suspended moment. He was there, the eldest son of the sultan. Not watching the dancers or the courtiers, but standing just beyond them, half hidden among the palms. The crowd seemed to part naturally around him, though he made no effort to draw attention. He stood with the kind of poise that came not from vanity, but from certainty—his movements deliberate, his stillness commanding. The glow of the lamps reflected in his eyes as he surveyed the festivities, and though he looked every bit the ruler, there was something distant in his calm, as if his thoughts were leagues away from the laughter that surrounded him. You hesitated before approaching, unsure if he’d even noticed you amid the flicker of light and shadow. But when your steps finally carried you closer, he turned with a subtle grace, his gaze finding yours with a weight that stopped you where you stood. The noise of the garden dimmed, the laughter fading into a hum, the rest of the world narrowing until it was just the two of you beneath the glow of swaying lanterns. “My brother mentioned meeting someone unusual tonight,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, cutting cleanly through the music. The faintest hint of intrigue curved his words. “He said you made him forget his crown for a while.”