The 12th Princess | Series 1

Chapter 1

The once bustling mansion was now enveloped in eerie silence. Minister Abbas ibn Qassim, the Arabian empire's strongest ally for a decade, lay bedridden. As he rested in his chamber, his thoughts raced towards the uncertain future that loomed after his impending demise. Restlessness consumed him.

Amid the stillness, the ticking of the clocks marked the passage of time. It was past midnight when Abbas called for his most trusted confidant, Hussain. "What's troubling you, Abbas? Do you need anything?" Hussain inquired.

Abbas wrestled with his thoughts, then made a solemn decision. "Summon my daughter immediately. There are matters we must discuss, and time is not on my side."

Hussain's expression shifted from shock to respect. He was not only Abbas's most trusted warrior but also his faithful messenger. Disobeying Hussain's orders was unthinkable; it meant severe consequences.

Princess Farida, the 12th princess of the kingdom, resided on the mansion's second floor, cherishing the panoramic view. She was renowned for her beauty, yet she remained unswayed by the countless suitors who sought her favor. Raised as both a daughter and a son of Abbas, she possessed the skills of a warrior and politician, while maintaining her soft and compassionate side. She enjoyed simple pleasures like painting and gardening, caring for the mansion that had been a generational legacy.

Abbas cherished his daughter but maintained a careful distance, molding her for the responsibilities that lay ahead. The Al-Qassim family was renowned for nurturing children skilled in swordsmanship and fostering strong familial bonds, kindness, and alliances across the world.

Farida gazed at the bright, pearly sky through her window, her heart heavy with concern for her ailing father. To the world, she projected strength, masking her emotions with a stoic facade—a facade she had mastered to meet expectations.

Footsteps approached her door. "Princess, are you awake?" the guard inquired.

"Yes," she replied.

"Hussain requests your presence urgently. It concerns Lord Abbas," the guard conveyed.

Farida's heart raced as she opened the door. She had to maintain her composure. "Yes, Hussain, what is it?"

Hussain sensed her despair, an emotion he had witnessed since her infancy. He had cared for her as a father would. "Abbas wishes to speak with you. He assures you not to worry."

"Very well, I'll join him. Just let me wear my Manto; it's chilly outside," she responded.

Hussain departed, and Farida hurriedly donned her Manto. She couldn't bear the uncertainty. What if it was urgent? What had transpired? Did her father require assistance? Was he unwell?

Hussain reassured her, "Princess Farida, I understand your anxiety, but Abbas is merely tired and wishes to speak with you. He's well, I promise."

Torn between worry and bravery, Farida whispered to herself, "I can do this."

They reached Abbas's door. Hussain knocked, announcing their arrival. "It's me and Princess Farida."

A young servant opened the door, inviting them inside.

*Manto:  longer coat or cloak often worn by women as an outer layer.

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