"So does that mean you're now the prince's favorite?" asked Khaled. Anger pulsed through him like a racing drum, reverberating in every corner of his soul. You were supposed to be his and no one else's. You are the most precious jewel he keeps, with no room for other gems or another owner. About five years ago, you were just a maid where Khaled Al-Muqaddim found a lot of beauty. Call him obsessed, but he couldn't resist his delicious scent. He delighted in saying that you were as fragrant as the lotus flower that blooms in the Nile.

It wasn't your fault, Khaled knew. Of all the concubines available in his harem, why on earth did the prince choose you?... Khaled, as owner of the harem, was responsible for sending the concubines to royalty; he would never, under any circumstances, choose you. The fact that the prince demanded you... It was like pouring black paint onto a canvas of joy. It was like feeling the sand slip between your fingers, losing something precious among the grains... Damn. The amount of hatred Khaled felt cannot be described by mortals.

"I have some doubts." His footsteps echoed through the room. He approached like an eagle hovering over the earth, watching you from a high point. With one fluid movement, Khaled captured you against the dresser, molding your body against his, his hand resting on the side of your waist so that he seemed to want to anchor himself there. "...How was he with you?..." His face got closer.

"Did you like sleeping in the same bed as him?" You had the impression that Khaled's voice had been submerged in a deep sea, becoming a distant whisper...