He straightened his jacket and glanced towards the palace entrance. Tall, lean, and effortlessly put together, Kamil had the sort of face people remembered long after he'd left a room. His bronze skin caught the sunlight, and his dark hair was neatly brushed back from his forehead.
He looked every inch the crown prince.
And, unfortunately for everyone around him, he knew it.
"Your Royal Highness!" someone called from behind the barriers.
Kamil turned briefly, offering the cameras a polite smile before moving aside to let his friends out of the car behind him.
"Look at you," Liam said, shutting the car door. He took one look at Kamil and shook his head. "I'm being serious. Are you sure you're human?"
Abel stepped out after him, straightening his blazer. "Half angel, half family money."
Kamil glanced at them. "Have you two finished?"
"Not even close," Liam replied.
"Good. Save the rest for later. We have a whole palace waiting for us."
He started towards the entrance.
"Wait," Liam called, hurrying after him. "You can't just walk away after bringing us to a place like this. What exactly are we supposed to do when we get inside? Bow? Salute? Kiss the floor?"
"Try walking normally first," Abel told him.
"I'm walking normally."
"You're walking like you've got a stone in your shoe."
Kamil laughed under his breath.
It was a small sound, but a few of the waiting staff looked up at it. He'd been away for months, and the palace had felt different without him.
Kamil had a way of making even the most ordinary moments feel less stiff.
The enormous glass doors opened as the guards approached, revealing the grand entrance hall beyond.
"Welcome home, Your Royal Highness," one of them said, bowing.
Kamil nodded. "Thank you, Hassan. How's your family?"
The guard looked momentarily surprised before his face broke into a smile.
"They're well, your highness. Thank you for asking."
Kamil continued inside.
Behind him, Liam leaned towards Abel.
"He knows the security guards by name?"
Abel gave him a look. "You say that like you don't know his name."
"That's different. He's my friend."
"Then perhaps you should try learning some manners while you're here."
"Perhaps you should mind your business."
"Both of you," Kamil called without turning around. "I can still hear you."
They went quiet.
For approximately three seconds.
Then Liam whispered, "This carpet is ridiculous."
Abel looked down. "What about it?"
"If I spill something on it, I'm going to spend the rest of my life paying for it."
"With what money?"
"Exactly my point."
Kamil shook his head, smiling as they followed him into the Grand Hall.
The room was as extravagant as ever. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting light across the white marble floors. Fresh flowers stood in tall gold vases, and a string quartet played softly near the windows. Servants moved between the tables, making last-minute adjustments to the arrangements.
At the far end of the hall, Queen Ayisha sat waiting.
She rose as soon as she saw him.
Beside her stood Princess Mirian, her eldest daughter from her first marriage. She wore a champagne-coloured gown, her dark hair arranged neatly over one shoulder. She looked composed, as she always did, although her eyes followed Kamil from the moment he entered.
A little further down, Princess Yaya was having a difficult time staying still.
"Is that him?" she whispered to the maid beside her.
The maid smiled. "Yes, Your Highness."
"Why is he walking so slowly?"
"Princess, he's only just arrived."
"He should have arrived faster."
The maid pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
Yaya leaned forward, searching for a better view. "Did he call you? He said he'd call me when he landed."
"He called, Your Highness. You were asleep."
"I was resting."
"Of course."
Before Yaya could argue, the guards announced his arrival.
"His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Kamil Azzam!"
The conversations in the hall gradually faded.
Kamil entered, accompanied by Liam and Abel. He'd barely taken a few steps when Yaya spotted him.
"KAMIL!"
"Here we go," Abel muttered.
Yaya gathered her dress and ran towards him.
Kamil had just enough time to open his arms before she crashed into him. He laughed, catching her around the waist and lifting her off the floor.
"Easy, little one!"
"You didn't call me!"
"I did call you."
"You didn't call me when you landed!"
"I was busy."
"Busy doing what?"
"Missing you, apparently. I couldn't get any work done."
She pulled back to look at him suspiciously.
"You're lying."
"Terrible accusation. Against your own brother, too."
She tried to look offended, but the smile spreading across her face ruined the effort. Kamil kissed her forehead and set her down.
"You've grown."
"You always say that."
"Because you keep growing. It's becoming a problem."
She laughed and grabbed his hand, refusing to let go.
Queen Ayisha was waiting when he turned around.
For a moment, the teasing expression on Kamil's face softened.
"Mother."
He bowed his head before she pulled him into an embrace.
She held him a little longer than he expected, one hand resting against the back of his head.
"Let me look at you," she said, drawing back to examine his face. "You've lost weight."
"Have I?"
"Don't pretend you haven't. Are you eating properly?"
"Yes, Mother."
"You're lying."
"Yaya said the same thing."
"Then perhaps you should listen to your sister."
Kamil smiled and kissed her cheek.
"I missed you."
Ayisha's expression changed. She touched his face gently, her eyes shining with the emotion she'd been trying to hold back.
"And I missed you, my son."
He glanced around the hall before looking back at her.
"You've kept everything running."
"We did what we had to do."
"I know."
There was something unspoken in the way they looked at each other. Ten years had passed since the accident that killed his parents, but some things had never become easier to talk about.
Ayisha squeezed his hand once before releasing it.
"Come. Everyone is waiting for you."
Mirian approached with a warm smile.
"Welcome home, Kamil."
"Thank you, Mirian."
She kissed his cheek.
"It's been too long."
"It has."
"Perhaps now you'll stop making excuses and actually spend time with us."
"I'll do my best."
She laughed softly. "You always say that."
"Because you keep asking."
"Someone has to."
Their exchange was pleasant enough, but Mirian's gaze lingered on him for a second longer than necessary before she stepped aside.
Then the room shifted again.
Queen Mother Samitra had arrived.
She didn't need an announcement. People noticed her the moment she entered, and conversations lowered almost instinctively. Dressed in a silver robe, she walked with two maids following behind her. Her jewellery glittered beneath the chandeliers, but it was her expression that commanded attention.
She stopped in front of Kamil.
For a moment, she simply looked at him.
Then she smiled.
"My crown."
Kamil bowed respectfully. "Grandmother."
She took his hands in hers, examining him with the same scrutiny she might have given a valuable possession returned to its rightful place.
"At last. Azzam can breathe again."
"I hope it hasn't been suffocating without me."
A few people laughed.
Samitra's smile widened slightly.
"Still making jokes. I see nothing has changed."
"Some things don't need changing tho ."
"Is that so?"
"That's what I'm told."
She studied him for another moment before patting his cheek.
"Come and see me later. We have much to discuss."
"Of course, Grandmother."
Her smile remained, but something in her eyes suggested the conversation would be anything but casual.
Before Kamil could say more, a familiar voice came from the side entrance.
"My prince!"
Lord Bashi approached with his son, Kaan, beside him. Both had apparently come straight from a council meeting; Bashi's jacket was still buttoned, and Kaan carried a slim folder beneath one arm.
Bashi extended his hand.
"Azzam has been waiting for your return."
Kamil shook it. "Then I hope the place hasn't fallen apart in my absence."
"Not at all. We've managed."
"I'm relieved."
Bashi laughed, although his eyes remained fixed on Kamil's face.
Kaan stepped forward.
"Cousin."
"Kaan."
They exchanged a brief handshake.
"When did you arrive?" Kamil asked.
"This morning. The council meeting ran longer than expected."
"So I've heard."
Kaan smiled. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to catch up on everything."
"I'm counting on it."
For a moment, neither man said anything.
Then Kamil clapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Good to see you."
"You too."
The conversation moved on, but Liam, who'd been standing just behind Kamil, leaned towards Abel.
"Are we supposed to greet these people too?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"With your mouth, preferably."
Liam ignored him and turned towards Lord Bashi.
"Good afternoon, sir."
Bashi looked at him.
Liam hesitated, then added an awkward little bow.
Abel closed his eyes.
"Oh, for God's sake," he muttered.
Kamil turned just in time to see it.
"What are you doing?"
"Showing respect," Liam said defensively.
"To whom? The entire room?"
"I don't know the rules here!"
"Then stop inventing them."
Abel burst out laughing.
Even Mirian covered her mouth, while Yaya tugged at Kamil's sleeve.
"Can your friends stay for dinner?"
Kamil looked at the two men behind him.
"Are you sure you want that?"
"Yes!"
"Then I suppose we're all suffering together."
"Excuse me," Liam protested. "I haven't agreed to suffer."
"You came here voluntarily."
"I was promised a holiday."
"You were promised accommodation."
"That's not the same thing!"
This time, Kamil laughed properly, and the sound carried across the hall.
For a few minutes, the formality eased. Servants smiled as they passed. Yaya began telling Kamil about everything he'd missed, speaking so quickly that he had to ask her to slow down twice. Ayisha watched them with quiet affection, while Mirian joined the conversation and Liam continued complaining about the carpet.
It almost felt like the old days. Because beyond the warmth of the reunion, the palace remained what it had always been, a home built on power, old loyalties, and secrets that had outlived the people who first buried them.
Ten years ago, a nine-year-old boy had lost both his parents in an accident that many believed was no accident at all.
Now that boy had returned as the crown prince.
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