The capital city of Shaameach, the jewel of the kingdom of Asharath, bustled with life as golden rays of sunlight illuminated its sprawling marketplace. Aromas of freshly baked bread and exotic spices mixed with the sound of merchants calling out their wares. In the heart of this lively chaos walked Princess Riya, the crown jewel of the kingdom herself, known not only for her beauty but for her compassion. Clad in elegant royal attire, her flowing crimson robes were embroidered with golden patterns that shimmered as she moved. A small detachment of guards trailed behind her, their polished armor glinting in the sun.
The people of Shaameach adored Riya. Wherever she walked, smiles followed. Mothers pointed her out to their children, vendors offered her their finest goods for free, and whispers of admiration filled the air. But amidst this idyllic scene, an unexpected disruption shattered the calm.
A young man, lean and agile, darted through the crowd clutching a piece of fruit. His clothes were torn and patched, his dark hair disheveled, and his silver eyes burned with a mix of desperation and defiance.
"Thief!" a furious merchant bellowed, pointing after the young man. "Stop him! He stole from me!"
The man, Waleed, moved with the speed of someone accustomed to running, weaving between the stalls and dodging grasping hands. But fate was cruel. Just as he thought he might escape, a heavy gauntlet-clad hand caught his arm, yanking him back.
"Got you, thief," growled one of the princess's guards. Waleed struggled, his muscles straining, but the soldier's grip was unyielding.
"Bring him here," one of the senior guards commanded.
The commotion caught the attention of Princess Riya, who turned toward the source of the noise. Her emerald-green eyes softened as she saw the man struggling against the guards. She stepped forward, her voice calm yet authoritative. "What's happening here?"
"Your Highness," the guard replied, bowing his head. "This man is a thief. He stole from a merchant's stall."
The merchant, a stout man with a flushed face, stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger. "That's right, Your Highness! He took one of my prized fruits. A thief like him deserves to be punished!"
Waleed stopped struggling, his silver eyes locking onto the princess's gaze. He said nothing, his pride refusing to beg, but his sharp jaw and tense posture spoke volumes.
Princess Riya regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a graceful wave of her hand, she said, "Release him."
The guards hesitated. "Your Highness—"
"I said, release him," Riya repeated, her tone firmer this time.
The guard reluctantly let go, and Waleed straightened, brushing the dust from his clothes, his gaze still fixed on the princess. She turned to the merchant, pulling a small pouch of gold coins from her belt. "Here. This should more than cover the cost of what he took."
The merchant's eyes widened at the sight of the gold, and he quickly bowed. "O-Of course, Your Highness. Thank you!"
Riya turned back to Waleed, her voice softening. "You must have been desperate to resort to this. What is your name?"
"Waleed," he said, his voice steady despite the tension in his posture.
"Well, Waleed," she said with a faint smile, "why don't you come with me to the palace? I'd like to hear more about your story."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances, and her personal bodyguard, a stern man named Commander Lorian, stepped forward. "Your Highness, bringing a common thief to the palace is highly irregular. It could be dangerous."
"I appreciate your concern, Commander," Riya replied, standing tall and meeting his gaze. "But I've made my decision. He will come with us."
Lorian frowned but bowed his head. "As you wish, Your Highness."
Waleed hesitated for a moment, his pride warring with his curiosity. But the promise of food, perhaps even a chance to change his circumstances, was too tempting to refuse. He nodded, falling in step behind the princess.
As they passed through the gates of the royal palace, Waleed's breath caught in his throat. The grandeur of the palace was unlike anything he had ever seen. Marble pillars rose to the sky, intricate mosaics adorned the walls, and fountains of crystal-clear water sparkled in the sunlight. It was a world far removed from the grimy streets he called home.
Princess Riya led him to the palace gardens, a serene oasis filled with vibrant flowers and chirping birds. She sat on a stone bench and gestured for Waleed to join her. Hesitant, he obeyed, sitting stiffly at the edge of the bench.
"So, Waleed," she began, her voice gentle, "tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Do you have family?"
Waleed hesitated, his silver eyes studying the ground. "I… I live with my grandfather. We don't have much."
"And your parents?"
"Dead," he said flatly.
Riya's expression softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be hard."
He shrugged, his voice hardening. "It's life."
Riya smiled faintly. "You're strong. But strength doesn't mean you have to do everything alone." She paused, studying him for a moment. "I think there's more to you than meets the eye."
Before Waleed could respond, a servant approached, bowing deeply. "Your Highness, the king requests your presence for breakfast."
Riya stood gracefully, turning to Waleed. "Come with me. We'll get you some proper clothes, and you'll join me."
Waleed's eyes widened. "Me? At breakfast? With the king?"
"Yes," Riya said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. "But first, let's make you presentable."
As Waleed was led away by the servant, his mind raced. He had entered this palace as a thief, a nobody. But now, standing in the shadow of its grandeur, he couldn't shake the feeling that his life was about to change forever.