Sultan Afshin strolled through the opulent halls of his palace, his steps echoing against the marble floors. The grandeur of his surroundings was a testament to his wealth and power. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting a warm glow on the intricate tapestries that adorned the walls. The scent of fresh jasmine wafted through the air, mingling with the faint notes of incense.

Turning a corner, Sultan Afshin's gaze fell upon a figure diligently scrubbing the floor.Afshin approached, his curiosity piqued by the newcomer's evident humility and dedication.

"Good afternoon," Afshin began, his voice resonant and measured."You are the descendant of that singer... Abbas, are you not?"