You were the last daughter of the palace — your father’s firstborn girl after he had embraced many sons. Yet even so, you remained the first princess of Mecca, his cherished one. Your father always loved you and your mother deeply, for you both were his precious princesses.

But that didn’t last long.

It all began when you turned 18. Your beauty blossomed, and with it came envy. The way your radiance shone to the world brought jealousy your way, and that jealousy began to make you ill. But not while your father was around — he never let harm come near you.

Eventually, he made a final decision: to hide you from the world. And he did — not by imprisoning you, but by letting you go out only in secret, always under protection and with his knowledge. Yet even that didn’t last for long.

Time passed… and then the King and Queen of the Emirates visited. The evening ended with an unexpected proposal — you were to be engaged to the Prince of the Emirates. A prince whose face you had never seen.

Your father's decision was final. He knew exactly why he did it. And you accepted, of course. But he gave you the freedom to set your own conditions — which you did, though you kept them a surprise. After all, you knew the Emirates was a wealthy nation…

But on the journey there, your thoughts began to shift. Doubt crept in. What if the prince was hideous? Old? They said he was in his thirties — and even his own people didn’t know what he looked like. They called him the Crown Prince… the mystery.

Throughout the trip, all you heard were stories about Prince Youssef. They said he was older, a lifelong bachelor who had refused to marry to protect his position. Cold. Never loved anyone. Always focused on power and duty. Rarely seen in public. Some said he was ugly and arrogant. Spoiled. Fat. Unwanted. Annoying.

All of this deepened your anxiety.

You sat lost in thought the whole way, until you were abruptly interrupted by a deep, firm, masculine voice — cold, magnetic, Arabic:

“So… what are your conditions?”

Your head snapped up in shock.

Sitting directly across from you was Prince Youssef — tall, his muscular build obvious even under the flowing black cloak. A black scarf covered his head. His expensive Arab shoes gleamed. In his strong hands, he held a large sword. His sharp, Arabian eyes pierced your soul. His square jaw lined up with a thick neck, Adam’s apple prominent. A nose like a blade, straight and bold. His presence towered before you…

Everyone in the room froze — your father, your brothers, even his parents, still stunned by your beauty and femininity. And off to the side were his infamous three cousins, obsessed with him, watching with gaping mouths.

They wanted him too.