Starlight of Persia

Starlight of Persia

  • WpView
    Reads 3,605
  • WpVote
    Votes 757
  • WpPart
    Parts 7
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 16m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jan 27, 2025
"Which do you prefer being called, Moonlight or Starlight?" I looked up in disbelief from where I knelt obediently on his dark bedroom floor, illuminated by just a lamp. As someone in a position of unquestionably great power to obliterate my entire existence within the blink of an eye, the first thing the King of Persia happens to ask me, instead of picking up a whip and administering my punishment that was due, is what flattering nickname I'd like being called...amongst the two. Punctuating his mysterious question, I hear a slight peek of what I am certain... is a sadistic chuckle. ----------------------------------- In the 7th century AD, Persia was at a constant war with the Byzantine Empire. This made the future of Sassanid Dynasty seem frighteningly uncertain. The religious and ethnic groups in Persia didn't get along either by now, resulting in a civil war, and this finally made it easier for the Arab invaders to exploit the cracks that already existed within the Empire, making it collapse entirely. The Princess of Persia, Azin who had lived her entire life in a remote village with a different identity, finally returned home to meet the new King of Persia, Emir Yousuf Al Hamad. Coming up with a dangerous strategy, she schemes to get close to Yousuf, topple and dethrone him, only to send him back to hell. For she is sure, that... is where he belongs.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • The Art of undoing you.18+
  • OBLIVIOUS. (way of life - deen)
  • 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Eden | 18+
  • Capturing Bambi
  • Drastic love
  • Enslaved Princess:Being His Maid
  • His Haram Touch
  • 6 days

2 years ago, on a Diwali night drenched in gold and mischief, Hyderabad crackled under fireworks-and one girl lit more than just sparklers. Evana, Wild-eyed, sharp-tongued, laughter like thunder in silence-she was chaos wrapped in denim and sarcasm. With her partner-in-crime Savita , they pulled off their neighborhood's most disgusting prank on Professor Vardan Oberoi-a visiting scholar,cold elegance personified-a renowned young professor known across universities not just for brilliance...but icy demeanor sharper than winter glass shards against skin meant to bleed slow burns instead of quick cuts.His voice shuts down entire lecture halls mid-chatter without raising volume once. Evana's prank went so far that it tainted his reputation.And for Vardan his reputation was his everything.she laughed then-at him-in stereo echoes beneath fairy lights shaped like stars. Nobody thought fate would listen so closely... Now? Hyderabad is history. Evana has run-from grief tucked into jokes. From memories disguised as punchlines. From pain buried deep behind eyeliner smudges after midnight crying jags no one sees but shadows on bathroom tiles after 3 AM scrolls through old photos... She's traded city lanes for new ones-lonelier ones. New town. Same scars underneath sweatshirts two sizes too big. The cockroach-ridden flat Evana managed to afford turns out belongs entirely...to none other than HIM. Fate doesn't play fair-it double-crosses you while looking beautiful doing it-and right now? It's holding its breath waiting-for sparks reignited, for secrets unraveled, for revenge sharpened... and maybe...just maybe-for love dressed up as fury trying desperately not be seen through tears pretending are rage-induced sweat... Because sometimes-the most broken people write the loudest stories... with footsteps echoing down an old wooden staircase... measured...calculating...remembering everything forgotten on purpose... Except HER face.. {This story is explicitly stated }

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines