[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] [@Infinite Cosmos] Munir
[color=6B8E23][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] [@Remram] Askel [@AuthenticTomb] Aslam [@princess] Hafiz

[hr]

The velvet curtain felt like a heavy, airless weight as Ranya stood with Munir away from the excitement. For a moment, the sheer absurdity of his interrogation gave her back her teeth. It was easier to be sharp than to be terrified, and Munir was practically vibrating with a frantic energy that begged to be punctured.

[color=6B8E23]“Stop. Just stop,”[/color] Ranya snapped, her voice low but vibrating with a sudden, dry heat. [color=6B8E23]“You want to know who I’ve met? I’ve met someone who looks at me and doesn't see a monument or a ghost, but sees Ranya. I am not a bird you can whistle back to a perch. I have done nothing but claim a single sliver of the world for myself, which is something I thought you, of all people, would understand.”[/color]

She yanked her wrist from his grip as soon as it loosened, her eyes flashing with a defiant, sassy heat. [color=6B8E23]“Honestly, Munir, you’re acting as if I’ve eloped with a pirate instead of simply enjoying the novel sensation of a conversation that doesn't start with a prayer and end with a reminder of our dead mother’s chin.”[/color]

She gave his arm a little shake, her bangles chiming a sharp, mocking tune. [color=6B8E23]“If that bothers you, then perhaps you should look at your own glass before you start throwing stones at—”[/color]

Her words died in her throat. Her breath hitched, catching with a sound like tearing silk.

Across the expanse of the ballroom, through the gaps in the swirling dancers, she saw the flash of deep blue robes—the predatory, smooth movement of a man who didn't walk so much as he glided. Hafiz.

He was standing before Askel and Aslam. He was smiling. Ranya’s vision tunneled. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all faded into a dull, underwater roar. The temperature in the small, curtained alcove began to skyrocket. A dry, searing heat radiated from her skin, and a faint wisp of grey smoke began to curl from the edge of the velvet curtain where her shoulder pressed against it. If she didn't find her center, the fabric would ignite within moments.

Icy panic slammed into her gut, a punch that stole her air. Without thinking, her hand flew to her shoulder, her fingers clutching the sea-foam silk exactly where Hafiz’s grip had been. She winced, her fingers digging into the fabric, and in her distress, the silk shifted. The draped edge of her sari slid an inch lower, revealing the stark, ugly truth: four dark, blossoming bruises shaped like the tips of a man's fingers, and a purpling smear where a palm had ground into her collarbone. If Munir were paying attention, he would surely see it.

[color=6B8E23]“He’s there,”[/color] she whispered, her voice breaking, the sassy mask finally shattering into a thousand jagged pieces. She looked at Munir, her green eyes wide and shimmering with a sudden, glassy film of tears. [color=6B8E23]“Munir, he’s talking to him. He’s going to… Please, you have to… If he knows, he’ll kill that light. He’ll kill it just to watch me go dark.”[/color]

She seized Munir’s coat, her knuckles white. But then, as she watched the standoff across the room, a sudden, chilling clarity hit her. If they ran over there now—if she arrived with tears in her eyes and Munir arrived looking like a frantic animal—they would be handing Hafiz exactly what he wanted. They would be confirming that the Prince of Varian was a weakness to be exploited.

She forced a breath into her lungs. It felt like inhaling glass, but it worked. She straightened once more and stepped away from the curtain just as the smoke began to thicken. The heat receded, the air cooling just enough to keep the velvet from bursting into flames.

Ranya smoothed her sari with trembling hands. She blinked back the tears, her face resetting into a mask that was far too pale, but steady nonetheless.

[color=6B8E23]“I... I apologize, Munir,”[/color] she said, her voice a ghostly, hollow chime of its former self. She didn't look at him, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere over his shoulder. [color=6B8E23]“I lost my footing for a moment. The heat of the ballroom, I suppose. I am perfectly fine.”[/color] It was a lie so transparent it was painful, but she stood tall, adjusting her veil with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. [color=6B8E23]“We cannot go over there. Not like this. We will stay here, we will breathe, and we will wait. I am the Chosen, and I will not be the reason his world burns.”[/color][/color]