<p>AMIR NAWFEL</p><p>Seated in an expansive garden, the kind of luxurious setup only royal palaces or the wealthy possess, Amir Nawfel epitomized grace and privilege. Dressed in exquisite royal attire, he wore a flowing white cloak over his upper body. Reclining on a plush, elegant sofa, a glass table laden with fruits and juice stood before him. Around him, imposing guards stood in formation, each gripping a massive sword as if ready for battle.</p><p>Amir Nawfel, lost in thought, leaned back with his head tilted upwards and eyes closed. He was a strikingly handsome man—fair-skinned as though his touch would reveal flowing blood. His straight, narrow nose resembled a finely sharpened pencil, and his small lips were naturally red, with the upper lip forming a heart-like shape. His black hair, silky and shiny, suggested meticulous care, while a neatly trimmed beard accentuated his jawline. At 24 years old, his appearance was nothing short of regal. On the right side of his neck, a dark tattoo of a crown pierced by a sword symbolized the royal family’s crest.</p><p>Lost in his reverie, he felt someone gently rest their head on his lap. A soft smile formed on his lips as he instinctively recognized who it was. Slowly, he opened his mesmerizing hazel eyes, so radiant they resembled polished mirrors. Looking up momentarily, he lowered his gaze with a serene calm.</p><p>In a deep, steady voice, he asked in English, “What are you doing here?”</p><p>The figure resting on his lap was a beautiful young girl with fair skin, a quintessential Arab beauty. She shared a familial resemblance to Amir, though her striking black eyes set her apart. At just 17 years old, she was Al-Amira Tesnim, the youngest child of Malik Hicham Bin Jaabar.</p><p>Playfully, she responded in Arabic, “Akhie (brother), when are we going to see Papi?”</p><p>Amir gently placed a hand on her head, softly stroking her hair. After a brief pause, he replied, "You can go; I won't be coming." With that, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes again.</p><p>Pouting, she sat up, staring at him. "Uh-uh, Akhie, I mean…" she began, but he raised his hand to silence her. Without saying another word, he stood, walking away gracefully. Four of his guards immediately followed, leaving Tesnim seated with a defiant huff.</p><p>Amir walked with an air of dignity, his gaze lowered. His confident stride exuded natural authority, evident in every step. Suddenly, an arrow struck the ground near his foot. He stopped abruptly, staring at the arrow for a moment before kneeling to pick it up. Examining it closely, he allowed a faint, cool smile to escape. Without lifting his gaze, he commanded his guards, “Leave me.”</p><p>The guards bowed respectfully before retreating to their posts. Left alone, Amir glanced around but saw nothing. Resuming his walk, he headed toward a magnificent building heavily guarded by soldiers.</p><p>As he approached, the guards dropped to their knees in reverence. Ignoring their greetings, he entered the building, softly murmuring a greeting audible only to himself.</p><p>Inside, his sharp eyes fell on a woman standing with her back to him. She wore a white palazzo trouser and a matching top cinched at the waist. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back, reaching her midriff. She stood facing a large glass window, seemingly deep in thought.</p><p>Amir quietly removed his cloak, placing it on a nearby table along with the arrow.</p><p>Without turning, the woman said in Arabic, "Calm down; I didn’t call you here to fight." Her words stopped him just as he was about to draw his sword.</p><p>Relaxing slightly, Amir walked over to stand beside her, crossing his arms as he gazed out the window. They stood in silence for a while before she slowly turned to face him.</p><p>She was a stunning woman, her features bearing a faint resemblance to Amir, likely due to their shared lineage. Her hazel eyes mirrored his, but beyond that, there was little physical similarity. She appeared around 27 years old, exuding confidence and elegance. This was none other than Rianna Bin Jaabar, Amir Nawfel’s cousin.</p><p>In a gentle voice, she asked, “Amir, what’s troubling you?”</p><p>Shaking his head without looking at her, he muttered, “Nothing.”</p><p>Frustrated, she grabbed him by the collar and playfully punched his stomach. "Don’t try to act reserved with me! Don’t forget I’m older than you," she teased.</p><p>"Please, Ukhtie (sister), let me be," he said softly.</p><p>Releasing him, she shoved him lightly, causing him to stumble backward. Recovering quickly, he shot her a sharp glare.</p><p>Crossing her arms, she smirked and said, "You’ll tell me, or should I break your arm?" She raised an eyebrow mischievously.</p><p>Sighing deeply, he replied, "You’re always bothering me! I’ve told you, there’s nothing wrong." Turning away, he began to walk off.</p><p>Before he could take another step, she tripped him with her foot, causing him to fall to the ground. Sitting up, he looked at her, pouting like a child. “Why are you so mean to me? If I get hurt, I’ll tell Abbi (Father)!”</p><p>She laughed, sitting down beside him. **"Stop being so dramatic, Amir. Aren’t you ashamed</p><p> </p>
