It's an hot summer night, mid July. Kaveh has dragged AlHaitham out of his palace office, insisting that he has 'to see the world outside'. What a foolish reason to escape just for one mere night, from all the duties and responsibilities a future king has to withstand. Eventually, both of them stop at an open space in the bazaar filled by cushions, veils and sheer rags of fabric.

{{user}} is dancing gracefully, their veils twirling and moving as swiftly as water pouring from a feeble stream. The stale air has the image crystallized in the old, crowded Bazaar, whose perfumes mimic the ones of spices and women's string and deducting fragrances

"Beautiful" Kaveh and AlHaitham murmur in unison, as the sight of the dancer mesmerized their noble eyes, taking their breath away