The Voice of Azzam

The sun was already high over Azzam Palace when the first convoy of black cars pulled through the gates.

A line of limousines and G-Wagons moved slowly along the marble driveway, their windows tinted so dark that no one could see inside. Palace staff stood on either side of the entrance, waiting. Security men checked their earpieces while photographers gathered behind the barriers, trying to get a clear shot of the front doors.

The air smelled faintly of oud.

Then the last car stopped.

The door opened, and Prince Kamil Azzam stepped out.

The cameras went off almost immediately.

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.

The morning light crawled across the cracked wall, washing the small room in gold. A kettle

whistled faintly from the kitchen, followed by a sharp voice.

"Milan!"

Amy's tone was clipped - a warning dressed as a call.

Milan stepped out, already dressed for school, her neat braids tied with a faded ribbon. "Yes,

ma'am."

Amy turned from the counter. "You're late. Again."

"I woke early-" Milan cooed.

"Don't answer back," Amy cut in. Her gaze lingered on Milan's face, that calm softness that mirrored the woman she could never forget. Hussein had broken his vows for that face once - for Sofia, the woman Amy still despised.

She had left him then, twins barely two years old. But when Sofia died, Amy came back, all

smiles and forgiveness. Only Milan knew the truth: she hadn't come back for love, she'd

come back for vengeance cloaked as responsibility.

Amy's voice dropped lower. "If you must speak, keep your voice low. You sound too much like her."

"Yes, ma'am."she replied .

Mikel strolled into the room, tapping at his phone, barely glancing her way. "Try not to slow us down today," he muttered.

Mabel followed, bright eyes darting nervously toward Amy. "Ignore him," she whispered. "He

woke up cranky."

Milan smiled faintly. Mabel squeezed her hand once before letting go.

Outside, the air was warm, filled with the sound of traffic and life.

"Dad said he might come home next week," Mabel said.

Milan smiled softly. "He said that last month."

"Then maybe this time he'll mean it."

Milan didn't reply. Her father, Chef Hussein, worked in the royal kitchens of Azzam Palace.

She hadn't seen him in weeks. Every time his call came, Amy answered first.

At school, Hiba leaned across Milan's desk the moment she sat down. "You look tired," she said.

"I didn't sleep much."

"Let me guess - Amy?"Milan's silence was answer enough. Hiba huffed. "You should've stayed when my mum offered. We'd have spoiled you by now." She has been her childhood friend . Milan smiled, small but grateful.

Then Hiba's tone shifted, playful. "Anyway, big news! The Crown Prince is back!"

Milan blinked. "Oh."

"Oh?" Hiba gasped. "That's all you have to say? He's literally the most beautiful man in the country!"

"I don't faint for strangers," Milan said, and they both laughed.

That night, the world felt quiet.

The city lights flickered faintly in the distance, and the hum of cars faded as the hours deepened. Amy had gone to bed. The twins' room was silent.

Milan slipped out to the small yard behind the house. The jasmine vines along the fence

swayed in the night air, heavy with scent.

She sat on the old bench, looking up at the pale slice of moon. Then, without thinking, she began to sing.

It was a soft hum at first, then words.

🎶I could tell what peace is but it hasn't found me ,

🎶I could tell what life is but it hasn't breath in me.

🎶If anyone finds it , Tell it Milan need it

🎶My mother was me before the night day goes dark

🎶My mother named me wishing I would be her

🎶And I realized I was her before the day goes dark.

Her voice was low, delicate, yet it carried emotion that filled the small yard. Not loud enough for the world - just enough for her heart to stop aching for a while. When she finished, she stayed silent, the echo of her

own song still hanging in the air.

Later That Same Night - Across the City

Kamil had already settled back into palace life that week, but tonight he'd escaped for a few

hours - meeting Liam and Abel at his private penthouse downtown.

Liam's music thundered through the sleek glass walls, echoing off marble floors that gleamed under soft golden light.

Kamil arched a brow from the bar counter. "Liam, I said play music, not host a concert."

Liam grinned, tossing a chip into his mouth. "For a prince? You deserve the concert."

Abel, sprawled across the velvet couch, snorted. "More like the encore." Kamil shook his head, laughter slipping through.

"Bro, did you see the headlines?" Abel said, scrolling on his phone. "The Crown Prince

Returns. They make it sound like you just ended a war."

Kamil groaned. "I miss being ordinary."

"You were never ordinary," Abel said. "You just had better disguises."

The three of them laughed - the kind of laughter built on years of shared secrets and

trouble.

Then Liam smirked. "So... back to royal duties, huh? Let me guess - Grandma's already

talking marriage?"

Kamil's silence was answer enough.

Abel leaned forward. "Oh, she definitely did."

"I'm not talking about it," Kamil said simply."Which means you're absolutely thinking about it," Liam teased. Kamil threw a pillow at him.

It was past midnight when Kamil finally decided to head back. The convoy moved smoothly through the quiet city. The window was half open; the night breeze rolled in, warm against his

skin.

He leaned his head back, watching the lights blur past . Then, through the hum of the engine, a faint sound drifted in.

A melody.

Barely audible .

He turned toward the sound - a small neighborhood, a yard faintly lit by the moon. He couldn't make out the words, only the tone: soft, aching, beautiful.

Then it was gone, swallowed by the road's hum.

Kamil stared out for a moment longer before exhaling quietly.

"Everything all right, Your Highness?" the driver asked.

"Yes," he said after a pause. "Just thought I heard something."

It was barely six, yet the day had already begun. Maids glided quietly through the halls, carrying trays and linens. Guards stood at attention near the grand staircase, boots gleaming under the soft amber lights.

The royal convoy eased into the courtyard.Kamil stepped out first - tall, composed, the crisp white of his shirt catching the dim morning glow. The guards bowed in unison.

"Your Highness," one greeted.

Kamil acknowledged with a brief nod and walked past, his presence calm yet commanding . His private wing lay on the east side of the palace, separated from the rest by glass corridors and a stretch of still garden.

Inside, his chambers opened into quiet opulence - smooth marble floors, warm amber lamps, and soft Persian rugs. It was the kind of room that felt like a five-star suite, except it breathed with his scent, his books, his rhythm.

He loosened his cuffs and rubbed the back of his neck, the faintest trace of exhaustion shadowing his features.

A soft chime sounded - the discreet tone from the intercom near his door.

"Your Highness," came the aide's voice, polite and steady. "Her Grace requests your presence in the east hall for breakfast. She said it's important."

Kamil glanced at the clock - 6:02 a.m. A short exhale escaped his lips. "At dawn?"

"She insisted, Your Highness."

"Of course she did." He straightened his sleeves, his expression smoothing into composure before stepping out.

The east hall glowed under crystal light. Long curtains framed the wide windows, and the scent of jasmine tea filled the air. Every detail of the table - gold-trimmed china, glass pitchers, folded napkins .

At the head sat the Queen Mother Samitra, her silver hair swept neatly beneath a pale silk scarf. Even in stillness, she radiated command.

Beside her sat Queen Ayisha, her beauty serene, the warmth in her eyes softening the edges of the room.Mirian sat quietly near her, posture perfect. And standing by the tall window was Bashi .

The room shifted subtly as Kamil entered.

"Grandmother," he greeted, bowing slightly before leaning to kiss her hand.

Samitra smiled faintly. "You were out late."

"Just helping my friends settle in at the penthouse," Kamil said, lowering himself into the seat opposite his grandmother.

A faint hum of approval left her lips as a maid refilled her tea. Around them, the dining hall shimmered. Every movement was quiet, practiced, expensive.

"Still loyal," Samitra murmured. "Your father would've liked that."

Bashi lifted his gaze from his cup. "Loyalty is good. But timing is better. The council will be expecting you to sit in today's session."

Kamil turned his head slightly. "I wasn't aware the council needed me for minor trade discussions."

His uncle smiled thinly. "They always need to see their prince." Before the tension could sharpen, a familiar voice filled the hall.

"Kamil!"

Everyone turned as Princess Yaya dashed in, her pink robe swishing behind her like a cape. Her slippers tapped against the marble as she ran straight to him.

"You're eating without me again!" she exclaimed, half scolding, half laughing.

Kamil chuckled, reaching out to pull her close. "You were still asleep, little one."

"I wasn't! I woke up when the maids started talking about your meeting."

"Then you're even earlier than the sun," he teased.Samitra's stern expression softened. "Let her be, Kamil. She's been waiting since dawn, insisting she'll have breakfast only if it's with her brother."

Yaya tilted her chin proudly. "Because he promised to take me riding after the council."

"I remember," Kamil said with a soft smile. "And I keep my promises."

Council Hall – Later That Morning

The council chamber was already alive with quiet murmurs when Kamil entered. The soft click of his polished shoes echoed against marble floors, and the faint scent of oud drifted through the air.

"Your Highness," the councilmen chorused as they rose.

He acknowledged them with a nod and took his place at the head of the table, every movement controlled.

"Let's begin," he said.

Bashi cleared his throat, his voice as smooth as his smile. "Today's agenda concerns the northern trade routes. Kaan has prepared a proposal."

Kaan rose slightly, his tablet glowing faint blue. "The routes have stalled," he began. "Private investors are offering funds to speed construction. In exchange, they'll share partial management of the trade sector."

Several heads nodded, the sound of shifting papers filling the silence. Kamil's gaze remained on the projection. "Partial management," he repeated, tone light but measured. "Meaning we hand over what belongs to the crown."

"Not hand over," Kaan corrected, his grin deliberate. "Partner. Their expertise could push the economy forward."

"And what happens," Kamil asked, "when the partner decides Azzam's pace no longer suits their profit?"

Kaan's grin faltered, just slightly."The crown doesn't trade stability for speed," Kamil continued. "If expansion is slow, we strengthen what we have until it grows on its own. No one outside these walls should have the power to dictate how we build."

Even Bashi paused, the pleasant mask on his face barely moving.

An older councilman shifted forward. "The prince speaks wisely. Sovereignty is not a commodity."

Kamil leaned back, fingers interlaced. "The internal board will handle the routes. I'll review the new proposal before it reaches the council again."

Kaan's tone softened, but his eyes stayed sharp. "Of course, Your Highness."

The doors opened quietly, and Queen Mother Samitra stepped in. She didn't speak - just observed as the council rose again.

"Your Highness," one of them said, "shall we adjourn?"

Kamil's gaze stayed forward. "Yes. The matter's settled."

When the last of the councilmen left, Samitra moved closer. "You handled them well," she said. "Your father would have been proud."

Kamil's jaw eased. "Let's hope the council shares his opinion."

"They will," she replied. "You just made your first decision as the next king."

He smiled faintly, almost to himself. "Then maybe it's time they start listening like subjects."

Her eyes glinted with approval.