Chapter 1
"As I stand in the grand halls of the palace, surrounded by the opulence of gold and marble, I feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage. My name is Ria, and I'm the princess of Saudi Arabia. My life is one of luxury and privilege, but sometimes I wonder if there's more to life than the strict rules and expectations that come with my title.
I think about my family, the people who are supposed to be my closest allies, but often feel like my biggest constraints. My father, the king, is a just and fair ruler, but he's also strict and traditional. He expects me to follow in the footsteps of my mother, the queen, and become a dutiful wife and mother one day. My mother is kind and wise, but she's also bound by the same rules and traditions that I'm struggling to accept.
I have two younger brothers, Faisal and Ali, who are both free to do as they please. They get to attend school abroad, travel the world, and make their own decisions. I'm stuck here, in the palace, with my nose buried in books and my schedule dictated by the whims of my father.
Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a dream, a fantasy world where everything is perfect and beautiful. But deep down, I know it's not real. I know that there are problems in our country, problems that my father and his advisors are working to solve, but problems nonetheless. And I wonder, what role am I supposed to play in all of this? Am I just a figurehead, a symbol of the royal family, or can I be more?
As I walk through the palace gardens, the scent of jasmine and rosewater fills the air. The sun beats down on my skin, warm and comforting. But even in this beauty, I feel trapped. I feel like there's a whole world out there waiting for me, and I'm stuck here, in this tiny, suffocating bubble.
I think about the women I've met, the ones who are fighting for their rights, for their freedom. They're brave, so brave. I feel like I'm just a coward, hiding behind my veil and my privilege. But what choice do I have? I'm a princess, and princesses don't make waves. They smile and wave and do as they're told.
Or so I've been told.
But as I look out at the city, I wonder, what's beyond the horizon? What lies beyond the walls of the palace? Is there more to life than this? And if so, how do I find it?"
My parents' voices drift through the palace halls, their conversation hushed but urgent. I pause outside the door, my hand on the intricately carved wood.
"...the perfect opportunity for our families to strengthen ties," my mother says. "Prince Khalid is a good man, Ria's age, and he comes from a respectable family."
I feel a knot form in my stomach. I've heard whispers about Prince Khalid, about how he's kind and charming, but I've never met him. My parents seem to think it's a done deal, that I'll marry him without question.
I take a deep breath and push open the door. "Mother, Father," I say, trying to sound calm.
They turn to me, their faces expectant. "Ria, dear," my mother says. "We've been discussing your future. Prince Khalid's family has expressed interest in an alliance between our families."
I nod, feeling a sense of trepidation. I know what's coming next.
But for now, I'll put on a brave face and pretend that I'm okay with whatever my parents decide.
Later that day, I'm sent to meet with Fahad, a businessman my parents want to discuss a potential deal with. I'm not sure what to expect, but I'm grateful for the distraction.
As I arrive at the meeting, I'm struck by Fahad's calm and confident demeanor. We sit down, and he greets me with a warm smile.
"Ria, thanks for coming," he says. "I appreciate your time."
We dive into business talk, discussing deals and contracts. But as we chat, I find myself feeling more at ease than I have in weeks.
As we chat, Fahad's easygoing nature puts me at ease. We discuss business and finance, but our conversation is laced with humor and wit. I'm surprised by how much I enjoy his company.
Before I know it, hours have passed, and the meeting has run longer than expected. Fahad walks me out of the office building, and we stand on the sidewalk, chatting about everything from art to music.
As the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the city, Fahad turns to me and says, "I'm glad we met, Ria. You're not what I expected."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What did you expect?"
Fahad smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Someone more... formal, I suppose. You're refreshingly down-to-earth."
I feel a flutter in my chest, and I'm not sure how to respond. No one has ever described me as "refreshingly down-to-earth" before. I like it.
As we part ways, Fahad asks if he can call me sometime to discuss more business ideas. I agree, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect of talking to him again.
As I walk back to my car, I realize that I've had a wonderful time. Maybe this chance meeting will lead to something more... interesting.
Next day,
I wake up early, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today is the day I'm meeting Prince Khalid, the man my parents have chosen for me to marry. I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing thoughts. I know that this meeting is important, not just for me, but for my family's future.
As I get dressed in my traditional Saudi abaya, I feel a sense of duty wash over me. I know that I'll have to be on my best behavior, to make a good impression on Prince Khalid and his family. I take a moment to collect my thoughts, to remind myself of the importance of this meeting.
As I make my way downstairs, I can hear the sound of my parents' voices, discussing the details of the meeting. I take a deep breath and steel myself for what's to come.
The meeting is formal, with both our families present. Prince Khalid is charming and courteous, with a warm smile that puts me at ease. We exchange pleasantries, discussing everything from politics to culture. I try to be engaging and interested, but my mind keeps wandering back to Fahad.
As the meeting comes to a close, Prince Khalid takes my hand, his eyes locked on mine. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Ria," he says, his voice low and smooth.
I smile and nod, feeling a sense of obligation wash over me. I know that I have to do what's expected of me, but a part of me wonders what would happen if I followed my heart instead.
awake, staring at the ornate patterns on the ceiling, Prince Khalid's words echoing in my mind. He is everything my parents could want—respectable, kind, powerful. A future with him would be secure, predictable, admired by all. And yet, every time I imagine that future, Fahad's face slips in uninvited, bringing with it memories I have tried so hard to bury.
Fahad is chaos where Khalid is order. He is laughter in quiet moments, stolen glances, conversations that made me feel seen rather than assessed. Loving him was never part of a plan; it simply happened, soft and sudden, like rain in the desert. But love, I've learned, is not always enough in a world ruled by duty and expectations.
The next morning, my mother sits beside me, her voice gentle but firm. She speaks of alliances, of honor, of the opportunities this marriage will bring—not just for me, but for generations to come. I nod, listening carefully, because I understand her. She wants to protect me in the only way she knows how. Still, my chest tightens as I realize that no one has asked what I want.
Later that day, I find myself alone in the garden, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. I close my eyes and imagine two paths stretching out before me. One is bright and paved with approval, duty, and safety. The other is uncertain, shadowed by risk, but alive with the promise of love and choice. Standing between them, I finally allow myself to admit the truth I've been avoiding.
Soon, I will have to choose.
And whichever path I take, a part of my heart will be left behind.
The engagement isn't announced.
Not officially.
Not publicly.
It exists only in conversations I didn't start and decisions I haven't agreed to yet.
My parents talk about timelines. Khalid's name comes up more often than it should. My mother asks what colors I like, what dates would be convenient, what kind of woman I want to become. No one asks whether I'm ready.
Khalid doesn't say we're engaged.
He says things like,
"When this becomes permanent…"
"Once everything is settled…"
"You'll get used to it."
And I nod, because nodding is easier than explaining the mess in my chest.
Fahad knows something is wrong before I say anything.
"You've been quiet," he says one night.
"Just busy."
He doesn't push. He never does. That's part of what makes it harder. We talk about work, about mutual friends, about things that don't matter. But there's a tension now, like we're both standing on opposite sides of a line pretending it doesn't exist.
I still meet him sometimes.
Public places. Group settings. Nothing that looks suspicious. I tell myself it's harmless because I have other friends too. Because I'm not doing anything wrong.
Because I haven't admitted anything.
Lex is usually there. She laughs easily with Fahad, leans into conversations, hopes openly. I watch from the side, reminding myself that I have no right to feel anything. Whatever this is between Fahad and me—it has no name.
And I refuse to give it one.
One afternoon, Fahad walks me to my car after a group meeting. The moment feels heavier than it should.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I almost say yes.
Instead, I say, "My parents are talking about marriage."
He stills. Just slightly.
"With Khalid?" he asks, careful.
I nod. "It's not decided. It's just… pressure."
He looks away for a moment, then back at me. "And what do you want?"
The question feels dangerous.
"I don't know," I say quickly. Too quickly. "I have a few friends. A life. Things aren't that simple."
He studies me, like he knows there's more but won't demand it.
"I hope," he says slowly, "that whatever happens… you choose yourself."
I smile, even though my chest hurts.
That night, Khalid calls.
"You were out today," he says. Not a question.
"Yes."
"With friends?"
"Yes."
A pause. Then, calmly, "Good. I don't like the idea of you being isolated. Just remember—people will start watching once things move forward."
Things.
Move forward.
I hang up and sit in the dark, realizing something unsettling:
Nothing has been finalized.
Nothing has been announced.
And yet, I already feel claimed.
I don't love Fahad.
I don't say his name like a confession.
I don't admit anything to myself.
I just know that when I imagine a future being decided for me,
he's the first person I think of losing.
And that scares me more than any engagement ever could.