Prince Suhail lay quietly for nearly five minutes before slowly opening his eyes. He stretched, got off the bed, pulled his robe over his shoulders, and without glancing at Shahid, walked toward the door. Just before stepping out, he said, “Wait for me, I’ll be back.”

Shahid, teasing him, replied, “Very well, my prince.”

Suhail gave no answer as he walked out with his usual majestic gait. The guards stationed outside his chamber instantly fell to the ground in salutation before rising to follow behind him. Suhail simply raised his hand in acknowledgment without looking at them.

Seeing this, they all halted in place while he continued walking alone. Everywhere he passed, people showered him with greetings, and he merely raised his hand in response. They were used to his nature. He continued this way until he entered the chambers of His Majesty. To his surprise, both his parents were seated there as well.

He found a place beside His Majesty, sat down on the floor, and paid his respects to both the king and his parents. They all answered warmly.

Clearing his throat, His Majesty spoke:
“Alhamdulillah. I know you will all wonder why I summoned you here, but it is nothing to be surprised at—it is a matter of good tidings. It concerns no one but Prince Suhail.

“I have already made a decision, for I know he will accept the good I bring to him. It is none other than choosing a wife for him. And she is your cousin—Sumayya.”

Suhail’s heart sank. He quickly raised his head to look at His Majesty, opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. Lowering his gaze, he shut his eyes, his chest heavy with resentment toward the choice made for him.

His parents, however, rejoiced loudly, showering the decision with blessings.

Suhail remained silent.

Then His Majesty’s voice cut through:
“My son, why do you keep quiet? You have not said a word.”

At last, Suhail spoke with a controlled tone:
“Your Majesty, I accept the choice you have made for me wholeheartedly. May Allah prolong your life.”

Overjoyed, the king exclaimed, “Masha Allah! I am very pleased. Truly, I knew you would not oppose me. You have made me happy, and may Allah grant me the chance to make you happy in return.”

Everyone present responded with “Ameen.” Suhail bowed once more, then rose and departed.

Lady Sumayya’s mother was overwhelmed with joy. She could barely contain herself—her greatest wish had nearly been fulfilled. She hurried off to tell her daughter. On hearing the news, Sumayya herself danced with excitement, then ran to Rahama’s quarters to share her joy, and Rahama joined her in celebration.

Meanwhile, Suhail returned to his room. He threw himself onto the bed, closing his eyes, drowning in sorrow. His plans were ruined, for marriage was the last thing he wanted at that moment. Even if he were to marry, Sumayya was never among the kind of women he desired. Still, he knew he could not resist His Majesty’s command, so he had no choice but to comply.

Seeing Suhail in such a mood, Shahid asked no questions. He knew even if he pressed, Suhail would never answer unless he wished to speak. So Shahid kept quiet and focused on his football game.

Suhail lay there for a long while before rising to enter the bathroom.

After the night prayer, Suhail went to his parents’ chamber. He found his mother reclining while a servant massaged her, with two others sitting nearby chatting.

As Suhail entered, everyone stood and bowed deeply before leaving to give them privacy.

Queen Bilkisu rose from her couch. Suhail approached, sat before her, and greeted her warmly. She replied with a radiant smile.

But Suhail lowered his gaze, saying nothing. Concerned, his mother asked gently,
“My son, what troubles you? Speak to me, for no one cares for you more than I do.”

Lifting his face, filled with unease, he said, “Ummi, am I truly to marry Sumayya?”

She smiled. “And what is wrong with that? She is your cousin, and she is worthy. Calm your heart and train yourself to love her. Insha Allah, you will find happiness in your marriage.”

Still troubled, Suhail replied, “But Ummi, you know her temperament. She and I are nothing alike.”

“Who told you such a thing?” she countered. “Whatever you see in her, it is only childishness. Do not let it weigh on you. Since she has never caused you direct harm, open your heart to her. Insha Allah, you will live happily together.”

Suhail sighed. “Very well, Ummi. Thank you. I leave you in peace.”

“My son,” she said, “do not burden yourself with worry. Already, your father has ordered construction to begin on your hospital project.”

Suhail smiled faintly. “Thank you, Ummi.” Then he left her chambers.

Two days later, the wedding was fixed to take place in two months’ time. Suhail wished for more delay, but the king refused. Sumayya, however, openly displayed her joy to everyone.

Realizing the marriage was inevitable, Suhail softened slightly, speaking occasionally with Sumayya—though whenever he said one word, she would say five. If they spoke on the phone, it was always her calling, and after a brief greeting, Suhail would end the call.

Two months later, their wedding celebrations began, filled with lavish events—five in total. Suhail attended only one, reluctantly, after his mother’s insistence. For the others, he locked himself away, even switching off his phones to avoid disturbance.

On Saturday, the marriage contract was signed. Thousands attended from across the region and beyond.

The bride shone with beauty, showered with gifts, and installed in a wing of the royal palace designed like a European estate—fully furnished with everything imaginable. Guests marveled at the luxury.

That night, Shahid and others practically dragged Suhail to his bride’s quarters. They teased him all along the way, but he kept silent, his heart heavy. When they finally reached her chambers, he dismissed them curtly.

Entering, he found his guards seated on the floor. They rose, bowed deeply, and greeted him. Suhail waved them away coldly, saying, “You may leave.” They saluted, wished him well, and departed.

In his bedroom, Suhail was struck by the elegant bedspread laid out for him. He looked away, entered the bathroom, and showered before preparing for bed.

Meanwhile, Sumayya, adorned in bridal attire, was escorted by her attendants to Suhail’s quarters. Knocking, they were granted entry. They bowed deeply before excusing themselves, leaving the bride behind.

Sumayya, eyes fixed lovingly on her husband, sat beside him on the bed. Suhail, still with eyes closed, said, “Go and make ablution.”

She pouted but obeyed. On her return, Suhail spread the prayer mat, and together they prayed two raka’ats. He then supplicated over her.

Afterward, he questioned her about her religious knowledge. Her shallow answers disappointed him, yet he chose silence. He then pointed to food, saying, “Here is food, if you wish to eat.”

Sumayya was hurt. She had expected tender affection, as she had heard from her friends. Instead, she thought bitterly, “This is how my prince is.”

She lay behind him on the bed, then wrapped her arms around him. He brushed her off. She turned him toward her and lay across his chest. Opening his eyes, he glared. “Have you no shame?”

“It’s our wedding night!” she pouted. “How can you just sleep and leave me?!” She caressed him until he lost control, yielding to her advances.

Afterward, he was shocked by her boldness but dismissed suspicion to avoid conflict. He left her to bathe, changed the bedspread, and lay back down, turning away from her.

She later bathed, then returned to embrace him from behind.

At dawn, Suhail went to the mosque, but Sumayya refused to wake for prayer until he insisted. Even then, she prayed lazily, muttering, then returned to bed without supplication.

The next morning, attendants entered to collect the wedding bedsheet. When they brought it to Dada, she eagerly inspected it. Seeing no trace of blood, her face darkened. “Could it be that the girl is not a virgin?”

The attendant bowed. “My lady, not every maiden sheds blood. Some are born without the hymen.”

Dada sighed heavily. “That may be true. Still, I wished all could bear witness.”

The palace fell silent—everyone curious but too fearful to ask, for it was custom that proof of a bride’s virginity be shown publicly.