[color=FDF0CD][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/FRUTp4W.png[/img]
[h1][color=6B8E23]Shehzadi Ranya al-Kadir[/color][/h1][/center]

[color=6B8E23][b]Time:[/b][/color] 6PM 
[color=6B8E23][b]Location:[/b][/color] Grand Ballroom
[color=6B8E23][b]Outfit:[/b][/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/W4eoaDB.png]Ranya’s Outfit[/url]
[color=6B8E23][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] [@AuthenticTomb] Sylvia [@ReuseableSword] Roman [@Infinite Cosmos]
[color=6B8E23][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] Aslam [@AuthenticTomb] Askel [@Remram] Kira [@Potter]

[hr]

The gold ornaments at Ranya’s brow shimmered as she offered Lord Roman a polite, if slightly distant, inclination of her head. [color=6B8E23]“Shrewd indeed,”[/color] she murmured, her voice carrying a hint of silk-wrapped irony. [color=6B8E23]“In Alidasht, even the air we breathe is often a matter of negotiation. I am glad to see your memory for our home is as sharp as your eye for detail, Lord Ravenwood.”[/color]

Ranya let her gaze linger on Roman as he accepted the tart from Sylvie, a flicker of guarded amusement curling at the corner of her lips. It was a quiet relief to see Sylvie’s brightness returning, but Ranya’s mind wandered, tugged irresistibly like the tide toward the far edge of the ballroom.

Despite her best intentions, her gaze slipped back to the silhouette she ached to be near. Askel. Their eyes met across the room, and a smile, unbidden and impossible to hide, tugged at her lips. She was grateful for the veil that shielded the flush she felt blooming beneath.

The sight of him was a sweet, aching pull beneath her ribs. He stood tall, a calm anchor in the court’s swirling chaos, but it was his companion who truly stole her breath. Aslam. Her heart thudded, wild and frantic, as she remembered yesterday’s confession—how she had bared her heart to her brother, admitting she had fallen for a man whose name she never dared to speak. Would Aslam piece it together now? She had never doubted his sharpness. To see them together was like watching two worlds collide, a dangerous tangle of threads that Hafiz would not hesitate to seize if he sensed the truth.

And yet, watching Askel speak with such earnestness, his face softening with a smile that she hoped was meant for a memory of her, Ranya felt a sudden, reckless surge of agency. [color=6B8E23][i]Let him watch,[/i][/color] she thought, her fingers tightening momentarily on the sea-foam silk of her sari. [color=6B8E23][i]Let Hafiz see me walk toward my own sun.[/i][/color]

She began to turn, a graceful apology already blooming on her lips, ready to slip away from Roman and Sylvie, when a sudden flurry of movement stirred the air at her side.

[color=#ffce00]“Lord Ravenwood. It is so very nice to see you.”[/color]

Ranya blinked, her composure threatening to crack as Munir materialized beside her, uncharacteristically rumpled. Her eyes widened as he fumbled with his veil, letting the fabric fall to the floor with a careless disregard for the "holy" image she was meant to uphold. It was almost a mockery, and if not for the many watching eyes, she might have landed a sharp jab to his ribs.

[color=6B8E23]“Munir?”[/color] she whispered, her public voice faltering. The look in his eyes was not one of courtly boredom; it was a storm of frantic, protective interrogation.

[color=#ffce00]“Dear sister. I have a few questions that may need to be asked in private, if you would spare me a moment of your time?”[/color]

The weight of his gaze told her everything. He had seen. He had gathered the scattered pieces—the Prince of Varian, the secret sighs, the stolen glances between them. Panic surged up, cold and biting, threatening to spill over the composure she clung to. If Munir had uncovered the truth, how long before Hafiz’s shadow crept in to claim it?

Ranya flashed a quick, taut smile at Sylvie and Roman, her hand slipping to Munir’s arm—half to steady him, half to draw him away from the hungry eyes of the court.

[color=6B8E23]“Lord Ravenwood, Sylvie—you must forgive us,”[/color] she said, her voice regaining its melodic, albeit hurried, chime. [color=6B8E23]“It seems my brother has been struck by a sudden bout of Alidashti urgency. Family matters, I’m afraid, wait for no orchestra.”[/color] Before moving away with her brother, however, she looked to Sylvie once more. [color=6B8E23]”Princess, I very much would like to get… what is it you call it? Brunch? Yes, I believe that is the word. Perhaps we could meet for brunch tomorrow if you are free? I have greatly enjoyed your company this evening.”[/color] She waited for a reply before departing with her brother.

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as she guided Munir toward the shadowed edge of a velvet curtain, the fabric swallowing their movements in secrecy.

[color=6B8E23]“Careful, brother,”[/color] she hissed, her eyes darting toward where Hafiz might be watching. [color=6B8E23]“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, and that display with the veil—was that for my benefit? What is so urgent that you must pull me away like a thief in the night?”[/color][/color]