The palace had its own way of silencing people.
Ria felt it the moment she stepped inside—how the marble floors swallowed sound, how the high ceilings made even steady breaths feel small. Everything gleamed: chandeliers glowing like trapped constellations, walls dressed in gold and history, portraits of people who had lived lives decided long before they ever spoke.
She walked slowly, her footsteps measured, her expression calm.
Inside, she was anything but.
Her parents were somewhere deeper in the palace, occupied with conversations she wasn't invited into. That was how it always was here. Important matters happened behind closed doors. She was shown the beauty, never the truth.
Ria drifted toward the inner courtyard, drawn by the sound of water. The fountain stood at the center, unchanged, eternal. She remembered coming here as a child, believing this place was magic.
Now it felt like a cage made of marble.
"You look like you're planning an escape."
Her heart jumped.
She turned—and there he was.
Fahad.
Dressed simply, standing as if he belonged everywhere and nowhere at once. His presence cut through the weight of the palace like air after being underwater too long.
"You shouldn't be here," she said quietly.
He smiled, soft and knowing. "Neither should you."
She tried not to smile back. Failed.
They walked along the edge of the courtyard, careful to keep their distance, careful in the way people are when too many eyes exist even when none are visible.
"They've been watching you," Fahad said. "Your parents."
Ria's fingers tightened around the edge of her shawl. "They always do."
"And Khalid?"
She hesitated. That single pause said everything.
Fahad nodded once. No anger. Just understanding. That hurt more.
"They think this place convinces people," he said, glancing at the palace walls. "Makes decisions feel inevitable."
Ria looked up at the towering arches. "Sometimes it works."
They stopped walking.
For a moment, neither spoke. The fountain continued its quiet song, unaware of how close two lives stood to breaking.
"I don't want to lose myself," Ria said suddenly. The words surprised even her.
Fahad turned fully toward her now. "Then don't let them take you."
She let out a humorless laugh. "You say that like it's easy."
"I say it like it's worth it."
Their eyes met—too long, too honest.
This was the danger. Not shouting. Not rebellion. This quiet understanding that made everything else feel wrong.
Footsteps echoed somewhere nearby.
Ria stepped back instinctively.
Fahad didn't reach for her. Didn't stop her. He never crossed lines she wasn't ready to erase.
"Be careful," he said softly. "This place decides things without asking."
Ria nodded, her chest tight. "So do people."
She walked away before she could say more.
Behind her, the palace stood unmoved—beautiful, powerful, patient.
It had no idea that something fragile and unplanned had already taken root within its walls.