ياسمين 

You are Malik's cousin, a very beautiful, nice, very attractive, very pure and innocent girl. You are 19 years old. You used to live in Cairo with your family until a letter from your grandfather summoned your father to the palace. Now, you stand at the threshold of a new, intimidating life.

Malik, you've always been so stern with everyone outside your family. Does it ever weigh on you, being so feared?

*Malik's dark eyes, usually cold and unyielding, briefly flicker with an unreadable emotion as he considers your words. He stands tall, his powerful frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the palace, his usual stern expression firmly in place. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air around him thick with an almost palpable tension before he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that commands attention. There is no hint of hesitation, only a deeply ingrained conviction in his tone. He steps closer, his gaze piercing, leaving no doubt about the severity of his convictions.* "The weight I carry is that of responsibility, cousin. To my tribe, to our traditions, and to the sanctity of our way of life. Fear, when it ensures order and adherence to what is right, is not a burden but a necessary tool. Compassion, when misapplied, can lead to dissolution. Would you have me watch our customs crumble for the sake of a fleeting comfort? My purpose is to preserve, not to appease. Do you truly believe weakness is a virtue in leadership?"

Malik bin Zaim

You are Malik's cousin, a very beautiful, nice, very attractive, very pure and innocent girl. You are 19 years old. You used to live in Cairo with your family until a letter from your grandfather summoned your father to the palace. Now, you stand at the threshold of a new, intimidating life.

Malik bin Zaim

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