This was the worst possible outcome.
Leila clenched her fists, her body tense as she sat in the lavishly adorned carriage of the crowned prince of the Reza Empire, Shahin Mirza Reza. How could she not have realized it sooner? The way the guards had deferred to him with such precision and reverence should have been a dead giveaway. But she had been too naive, too focused on her own survival to piece it together.
Now, staring at him, it all made sense. Shahin was Shahryar's younger brother.
Though not immediately apparent, the resemblance was there— the piercing gaze that seemed to look straight through a person.
Her heart pounded as the weight of the situation crashed down on her. This truly was the worst possible outcome.
She would die. Maybe not today, but soon enough. Her fate seemed intertwined with this empire and its rulers. No matter how far she ran, the shah's shadow followed her.
Shahin's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. "I'll need you to come with me to provide your statement," he said firmly, his tone carrying authority. "It is my duty as prince to ensure justice is served. However, since you told me the truth, I'm willing to be lenient and let you go afterward."
Leila's voice was barely a whisper. "I can't…" Her throat tightened, and she shook her head as tears threatened to spill. "Please, please let me go."
Shahin's expression hardened, his jaw tightening. "You're acting suspiciously, and that's precisely why I cannot simply release you." His tone turned sharper, colder. "A man was mauled to death during the dispute last night, and you're involved. Any reasonable person would ask why you were there in the first place. You're a fugitive. You should have been in hiding. Instead, you're here. Why? If you're innocent, what were you doing at the scene of the crime?"
Leila's hands trembled as she wrung them together, her mind racing. She opened her mouth, but her voice faltered. "My brother… brought me here…"
Shahin's sharp eyes narrowed slightly, his brows lifting in surprise. "Oh? You have a brother?" His lips curled into a grim line. "So, both of you have been breaking the law, then?"
Her breath hitched, and a wave of panic surged through her. Anything she said now could implicate her brother. Her family. And she could not—would not—drag him down with her.
Her silence stretched between them like a taut string ready to snap. Shahin leaned back slightly, watching her closely. "You hesitate. Why? Is there something you're not telling me?"
Leila's chest felt tight as though an iron fist was gripping her heart. She shut her eyes tightly, her lips trembling as she struggled to think. Whatever she said next would determine not just her fate, but her brother's as well.
This had to work out. It had to.
"He wanted to find a way to make sure I was pardoned for the sins of my family," Leila admitted quietly, her voice trembling under the weight of her confession. "He hated that I always sneaked into the village to sell perfumes."
Shahin's sharp gaze bore into her, and he gave a curt nod. "Continue," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.
Leila hesitated for a moment before speaking, her words tumbling out quickly as if saying them fast enough would lessen their impact. "He said I could enlist in the Crown Prince's harem."
Shahin's eyes widened slightly at her declaration, a flicker of shock crossing his face before he quickly masked it.
"We were on our way to the magistrate's office," she continued, her voice growing steadier, "when we were chased by the soldiers."
A low chuckle rumbled from Shahin, as if he found some private amusement in her predicament
. "Is this fate?" he mused aloud, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "If it is, then I have no intention of letting it slip away. We can still go back to the magistrate's office."
"No!" she blurted out, turning her face away from him, her cheeks burning with frustration and shame. "It was against my will. I have no intention of marrying the Crown Prince or being involved with him in any way. I only agreed to follow my brother because he was worried. I planned to run away later."
"So, why are you telling me all this?" he asked, leaning forward, his expression unreadable.
"Because you asked," Leila shot back, her voice tinged with resignation. "And even if I lie, you'd figure it out eventually. They already registered my name."
Shahin regarded her in silence for a moment, then leaned back with a small, satisfied smile.
"Well, being truthful does unlock a level of trust in me," he admitted. "And I believe you've gained it. But that doesn't change the fact that you still have to come with me. It's the only way I can get my uncle off your back."
Leila blinked in confusion. "Your uncle?"
Shahin's gaze hardened. "The governor, Arash. He'll keep coming after you unless you have my protection. As the Prince, investigators cannot interfere with what belongs to me."
"What are you saying?" she asked, her stomach knotting in dread.
"I'm saying," Shahin said, his voice dropping into a tone of cold certainty, "that if you agree to become either my concubine or my Empress, you will have my protection. With that title, my uncle will have no reason to pursue you. Your name—and your brother's—will be pardoned, erased from the list of offenders no matter what you have done."
Leila's breath hitched, her mind reeling at his words. Was this a cruel joke? Or was he truly offering her salvation at the cost of her freedom?
Leila's eyes widened almost immediately at the mouth-watering offer. A full pardon—not just for her, but for her brother as well. It was the kind of salvation she had only dared to dream about. And yet, her heart twisted in unease.
Someone else had already made her a similar offer. Someone far more dangerous than the prince seated before her.
"I don't think I'm going to take your offer," she muttered under her breath, her words shaky but resolute.
Shahin's sharp gaze fixed on her, his brows lifting slightly in surprise. This was not the reaction he had expected. Most women, noble or commoner, would have leaped at the opportunity to secure his favor. His status as prince, his wealth, and his striking good looks made him an irresistible prize to many. But this one?
This fugitive sitting before him was different.
"You do realize," he began slowly, his voice cold and measured, "that fugitives have no rights, don't you? It would be a piece of cake for me to take you by force."
Leila's breath caught in her throat, and she shuddered, her eyes widening in fear. His tone left little room for doubt—he could do it, and no one would stop him.
"What gives you the right to think you can refuse your prince?" Shahin's voice turned sharp, almost cutting. "Even after I've offered to help you."
Leila turned her face away, her lips pressing into a thin line. Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense. She knew that whatever words escaped her lips next would only provoke him further.
But she couldn't leave it at that. If she didn't speak, he might assume her hesitation was submission.
"I am… betrothed to someone already," she finally answered, her voice low but steady. It wasn't entirely a lie. Shahkhur had marked her as his mate, binding her to him in a way that she doesn't even know.
Her gaze dropped to her lap, avoiding Shahin's piercing eyes. The truth was, she wanted nothing to do with the Shah's family—neither with him nor his brother Shahryar, no matter how beautiful they both were.
Leila allowed herself a small, bitter smile. A normal life. That was all she wanted. A life far from the Coast of the empire.
She could almost picture it now—living as the wife of a humble fisherman or a merchant. Traveling down the vast deserts with camels laden with goods, visiting villages to trade in hides, skins, and honey.
But for now, that dream felt as distant as the stars in the night sky.
Shahin's voice interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the cold, oppressive reality. "Betrothed?" he repeated, a faint sneer curling his lips. "To whom?"
Leila's fingers tightened in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. She had no answer he would accept—no answer that would satisfy him.
She would prefer even the worst life of suffering to being the wife of either of these two men.
"I see. All right," Shahin said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. He leaned forward, opened the carriage door, and let out a sharp whistle.
Leila's heart lurched as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps. In an instant, armed men began running toward the carriage. Her breath hitched, and a small gasp escaped her lips. Was he calling the soldiers back to arrest her?
"Rest assured," Shahin said, his calm voice cutting through her panic as he noticed her discomfort. "A prince doesn't go back on his promises. They're just here to escort us to the palace. They're my soldiers."
His explanation did little to ease the tightness in her chest, but she nodded stiffly, choosing to remain silent. The rest of the ride passed in an oppressive, uneasy quiet.
After a while, Shahin turned to her with a question. "What is your name?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
"Leila," she replied cautiously.
"Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he said with a faint smile.
"What?" Leila's eyes widened as she felt the color drain from her cheeks. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. A man—this prince, of all people—had just complimented her.
The moment left her flustered, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. Her focus shifted back to her brother, Arman. She bit down on her lower lip anxiously, worry clouding her features. Was he safe? Had he managed to shake off the guards that were pursuing them?
Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she silently prayed for his safety. The thought of him being captured by the ruthless soldiers made her stomach churn. She didn't know what she would do if anything happened to him.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, Shahin's voice broke the silence once more. "My offer still stands," he said, his tone unwavering. "Even after today. If you decide to take it, you can come to my residence."
He paused, his gaze fixed on her, unyielding but strangely sincere. "Even if you are the one who killed my cousin, I'm willing to turn a blind eye for you."
Leila's breath shook as his words settled over her
That was a marriage proposal. The realization struck Leila like a bolt of lightning, and panic bubbled in her chest. If Arman found out about this, she knew there would be no hesitation—he would demand she take the offer.
But… Shahkhur had helped her. Twice now, he had saved her from the jaws of danger. A small part of her felt indebted to him, though it didn't make his offer any less overwhelming as well.
She met Shahin's piercing gaze, her own steady with resolve. "No," she declared firmly, her voice trembling but determined. "I don't believe in second chances when it comes to love. I love my fiancé, and he is going to marry me."
Shahin chuckled at her defiance, a low, mocking sound. "You don't even have a ring," he said, his sharp eyes sweeping over her disheveled form. "Look at yourself—tattered clothes, bruised feet. What kind of fiancé allows his woman to suffer like this?"
Leila flinched but said nothing, her fists clenching at her sides.
"I am wealthy," Shahin continued, his tone confident, almost arrogant. "Wealthy enough to gift you a kingdom. I would clothe you in the finest silks, adorn you with gold and jewels, and give you the life of a queen. Because you wouldn't just be a wife—you would be the Empress of this nation."
His words were like honey laced with poison, tempting but dangerous. She shook her head, her voice rising in frustration.
"How can you say things like this to a woman you've just met? I'm a fugitive!"
Shahin's smirk didn't waver. "And yet, didn't you once think of enlisting in the harem? I'm offering you something far better—a throne by my side."
Leila's fists tightened, her nails digging into her palms. "Must be so easy for you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"What's that?" Shahin asked, leaning forward, his smirk fading.
"You think you can get whatever you want just because you're the Shah's son," she said, louder now, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "You don't understand how hard life is for people like me. You would so easily dismiss the little efforts of my fiancé just because you're rich and powerful?"
Shahin studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, then leaned back with a soft chuckle.
"Alright then," Shahin said, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "We'll leave it at that… for now."