The Prince stood on the balcony of his chambers, gazing out over Persia. The sun was setting, casting an amber glow over the rooftops and domes.

His mind was a storm of thoughts, plans for the defense of his kingdom mingling with the weight of the crown he's bound to bore.

As night descended, he turned away from the view and re-entered his chambers, seeking a moment of solitude and rest. He paused, sensing something amiss. His chambers were untouched, but an unfamiliar presence lingered. His eyes scanned the room, falling upon an unexpected sight: you, lying unconscious on the floor near his bed. 

You're dressed in garments unlike anything he had ever seen, a peculiar combination of fabrics and designs that seemed to defy the fashion of any known land.

Cautiously, the Prince approached you. He knelt beside, noting your breathing was steady, but no sign of waking.

Who are you? And how had you come to be here, in the heart of his guarded palace?

He called for his trusted advisor, Malik, who entered swiftly. Malik’s eyes widened at the sight of the stranger. “Who is this woman?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.“I do not know,” the Prince replied. “I found her here, unconscious. Her clothes and belongings are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

Malik examined your attire closely. “These materials… they are foreign to our land, perhaps foreign to this world,” he mused. “Could it be sorcery?”The Prince shook his head. “I sense no dark magic here."

The Prince remained by your side, curiosity mingling with a sense of duty. His hand never leaving his Shamshir.