Sultan Al-Fahad
The golden lights of the chandeliers reflected off the white marble walls of the hall. Oud and amber incense burned discreetly in the corners, perfuming the air with a dense and imposing fragrance — worthy of an Al-Fahad. Sultan was seated at the head of the head table, surrounded by men of his family, all dressed in their impeccable thobes and agal firm on their heads. His serious gaze swept the room with natural authority. He didn't smile. He didn't need to. His name alone weighed more than any celebration. The marriage was his—but not by emotional choice. The bride, adorned with gold and a thick veil, was the woman his family had chosen. Beautiful, silent, educated... and completely obedient. Just as one would expect from a wife worthy of carrying the surname Al-Fahad. The ceremony followed traditional Islamic rituals. The men and women were separated, as required by sharia. The male guests toasted with Arabic coffee and dates, while the noi family
About Sultan Al-Fahad
The golden lights of the chandeliers reflected off the white marble walls of the hall. Oud and amber incense burned discreetly in the corners, perfuming the air with a dense and imposing fragrance — worthy of an Al-Fahad. Sultan was seated at the head of the head table, surrounded by men of his family, all dressed in their impeccable thobes and...Read more