chapter 9:

The air was thick with tension as she spoke, her voice dripping with venomous intent. "Giovanni! Now it's your turn," she hissed, her eyes gleaming with a fierce light. "Ha ha ha ha, you too, a man who bullied Salina. But now, all of you will pay the price for your mistakes. Hihihihi."

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down to the accused. Giovanni's face paled, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape from the wrath that was to come.

The atmosphere was electric, the silence that followed her declaration heavy with anticipation. It was as if the very walls were holding their breath, waiting to see how this drama would unfold.

And then, a slow, sinister smile spread across her face, a chilling harbinger of the reckoning to come. "You should have thought twice before crossing me," she whispered, her voice dripping with malevolence. "Now, it's time to pay the price."

Sotto il sole d'oro, lei danza,

Tra i petali di rose, la sua speranza.

Con passi leggeri, sogni si intrecciano,

Nel cuore di una ragazza, storie si spaziano.

Tra le strade di ciottoli, lei cammina,

Con gli occhi di fuoco, il mondo illumina.

Nell'abbraccio del vento, la sua libertà,

Sotto il cielo d'azzurro, vive la sua verità.

In ogni sorriso, una melodia,

Nel cuore di una ragazza, una sinfonia.

Tra risate e lacrime, la vita danza,

Nel racconto eterno, di una donna che avanza.

(Under the golden sun, she dances,

In rose petals, her hope.

Dreams intertwine with light footsteps

A girl's heart is full of stories.

In the cobbled streets she walks,

The world is illuminated by eyes of fire.

In the embrace of the wind, its freedom,

Under the blue sky, he lives his truth.

A melody in every smile

In the heart of a girl, a symphony.

Life dances between laughter and tears

In the eternal story, of a woman who moves forward.)

As she stepped onto Via del Corso, the Rome sunlight danced across her raven hair, casting a mysterious aura around her. Her emerald eyes sparkled with determination, and her slender legs strode purposefully in high heels, her designer dress hugging her curves like a glove. A sleek leather jacket slung over her shoulder added a hint of rebelliousness to her chic ensemble.

She approached the boutique, its window display a kaleidoscope of Italian fashion, and pushed open the door with a confident hand. A soft bell above the entrance announced her arrival, and the shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a well-groomed mustache, looked up from behind the counter.

"Buongiorno, bella signorina," he said, his smile a perfect blend of warmth and professionalism. "How may I assist you today?"

She glided into the store, her eyes scanning the racks and shelves with a practiced air. "I'm looking for a boutique I ordered from a few days ago," she said, her voice husky and mysterious. "I was told it would be ready for pickup today."

The shopkeeper's expression turned puzzled. "I apologize, but I don't recall any orders under your name... and we don't usually take orders without a name or contact information."

Her eyes narrowed, a hint of steel beneath her sultry exterior. "I was assured it would be taken care of," she said, her voice low and even. "Do you have any idea who might have helped me?"

The shopkeeper shrugged, his hands spread wide in a gesture of innocence. "I'm afraid not, signorina. But I can offer you a complimentary espresso while you wait? Sometimes, our staff takes a little longer to process orders..."

She turned to leave, her movements fluid and graceful. "No, thank you," she said, her gaze piercing the shopkeeper's very soul. "I'll find out who helped me."

As she exited the boutique, the shopkeeper watched her go, a hint of curiosity and concern etched on his face. Who was this mysterious woman, and what secrets lay hidden behind her enigmatic smile?

A young man burst into the boutique, a look of urgency on his face. "Sir, please, I need to speak to you about an order," he said, his eyes scanning the shopkeeper's face.

The shopkeeper, taken aback by the young man's sudden arrival, raised an eyebrow. "What order might that be?" he asked, his tone measured.

"The one placed by Princess Nazia," the young man replied, his voice filled with conviction. "She ordered a boutique, and I've been sent to collect it."

The shopkeeper's expression changed, a look of realization dawning on his face. "Ah, yes... a girl did come in a few days ago, claiming to have placed an order for the royal house. But she didn't leave a name..."

The young man nodded eagerly. "That was Princess Nazia, sir. She must have sent you the order under her royal title. I assure you, this is the correct order."

The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the implications. "I see," he said slowly. "Well, in that case, let me retrieve the order for you."

He disappeared into the back room, leaving the young man pacing nervously in front of the counter. A few moments later, the shopkeeper emerged with a elegantly wrapped package, adorned with the royal crest.

"Here it is," he said, handing the package to the young man. "Please ensure it reaches the princess safely."

The young man nodded, his face set with determination. "I will, sir. Thank you." With that, he turned and disappeared into the bustling streets of Via del Corso, leaving the shopkeeper to wonder at the mysterious ways of the royal house.

Nazia's eyes fluttered closed, and she felt herself being pulled back into the depths of her memory. A warm, golden light enveloped her, and she was transported to a place of comfort and security.

As she stood there, lost in thought, a soft, gentle glow began to emanate from the nightlight beside her. The light danced across her face, casting a soft, ethereal radiance over her features.

Just as she was becoming lost in the tranquility of the moment, a knock at the door broke the spell. Nazia's eyes snapped open, and she turned to face the sound.

"Enter," she called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

The door opened, and a maid curtsied low. "Your Highness," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Prince Shazad has sent a dress for you to wear to tonight's royal party. He's still recovering in the hospital, and he requests that you attend in his place."

Nazia nodded understandingly, her expression soft with concern.

"Thank you, Maria," she said, her voice a little stronger now. "I will get ready immediately."

The maid curtsied again and withdrew, leaving Nazia to prepare for the party. As she got ready, Nazia couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility and duty. She knew that Prince Shazad was counting on her to represent him at the party, and she was determined to make him proud.

The grand ballroom was resplendent in all its glory, a sumptuous spectacle of opulence and refinement. The cream of society gathered within its walls, their lavish attire a testament to their wealth and status. Amidst this sea of elegance, Nazia made her entrance, a vision of loveliness that commanded attention. Her silver gown shimmered like the gentle glow of moonbeams, its intricate embroidery a masterclass in delicate craftsmanship. The fabric seemed to caress her slender figure, accentuating her curves and radiating a soft, ethereal light.

Her raven tresses cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, their dark, mysterious depths seeming to hold secrets and stories beyond imagination. Her eyes, pools of deep indigo, sparkled like precious gemstones, their subtle glint hinting at a sharp intellect and quick wit.

Queen Sofia followed, a regal presence that exuded warmth and majesty. Her golden gown seemed woven from the very threads of sunlight, its soft, flowing folds draping her statuesque figure with grace and elegance. Her sapphire eyes shone like a tranquil ocean, their depths seemingly infinite and full of wisdom. A diamond crown sat atop her silver hair, its facets glinting like a thousand tiny stars, casting a celestial glow across the room.

The King stood tall, a commanding figure with a strong, chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through to the soul. His black tailcoat was adorned with gold braid, its intricate patterns a testament to his status and power. A heavy gold chain hung around his neck, its pendant glinting like a tiny sun, casting a warm, golden light across the room.

Mr. Mansabdar and his wife, Mansabdar, cut a dignified figure, their emerald gown a vibrant splash of color amidst the more subdued hues. Her dark hair was styled in an elegant updo, its sleek, polished strands seeming to shimmer like the night sky. Giovanni, a young nobleman with a charming smile, engaged in lively conversation with Shazia, her scarlet gown a bold statement of confidence and poise.

As the guests mingled, the room was filled with the soft rustle of silk, the clinking of crystal, and the gentle hum of conversation, creating a symphony of elegance and refinement. Nazia's entrance had set the tone for a night of enchantment and wonder, a evening that would be remembered for years to come.

"The grand hall fell silent as Mr. Mansabdar's booming voice echoed through the chamber. 'Gather 'round, all attention forward!' he commanded, his eyes gleaming with an air of authority. 'I have an announcement to make, one that will shape the future of our great nation.'

The assembly leaned in, curiosity piqued. 'Today, I declare my brother Riaz the rightful King of Italy!' Mr. Mansabdar proclaimed, his voice ringing out across the hall. A murmur of surprise and awe rippled through the crowd, followed by a chorus of nods and murmurs of agreement.

'By tomorrow, we shall make this declaration official,' Mr. Mansabdar continued, his eyes scanning the room with conviction. 'But alas, our beloved Prince Shahzad is currently absent, tending to business in France. Fear not, for he shall return to us tomorrow, and all shall be made right.'

A somber note crept into Mr. Mansabdar's voice as he added, 'We gather here today, still reeling from the passing of our revered father. His legacy lives on through us, and we shall honor his memory by uniting under our new king.'

The hall erupted into a flurry of whispers and nods, the weight of the announcement settling upon the assembly like a mantle of destiny."

"As the assembly buzzed with excitement, a sudden flash of crimson caught the eye. Amidst the sea of somber attire, a pair of red heels gleamed like a beacon, their sharp lines and sleek design slicing through the gloom. They seemed to radiate an otherworldly energy, as if infused with a power beyond the mundane.

Their owner, a mysterious figure shrouded in shadows, stood at the edge of the hall, observing the proceedings with an air of quiet intensity. The red heels seemed to be the only visible part of their presence, as if they were a harbinger of secrets and whispers yet to come.

As Mr. Mansabdar's announcement hung in the air, the red heels seemed to pulse with an eerie light, as if they held the key to unlocking the true intentions behind the declaration. It was as if they were a warning, a signal that not everything was as it seemed in this grand hall of power and intrigue."

"The grand hall was abuzz with the who's who of the kingdom, all gathered to celebrate the royal party. The room was a kaleidoscope of colors, with intricately designed tapestries adorning the walls and sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of exotic perfumes and the soft murmur of polite conversation.

At the center of the hall, the royal family held court, resplendent in their finest attire. The king and queen, regal and dignified, smiled graciously as they mingled with their guests. The prince and princess, dashing and charming, laughed and joked with the assembled nobles and dignitaries.

As the night wore on, the music swelled and the dancing began. The hall was filled with the rustle of silken gowns and the flash of jewels as the guests twirled and spun to the rhythm. The royal family led the way, their movements graceful and effortless as they waltzed across the floor.

The scene was one of joy and celebration, a night to remember in the annals of the kingdom's history. But amidst the laughter and music, a sense of unease lurked, a feeling that something was amiss in the shadows of the grand hall...

"The grand hall was abuzz with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, as the guests were fully immersed in their gossip and merriment. But suddenly, a voice pierced the air, sending a chill down the spines of all who heard it: 'Princess Nazia's face...!'

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the princess, who was slumped in her chair, her face a vision of horror. The scream that followed was like a dam breaking, as the assembly erupted into chaos.

The scene shifted to the hospital, where Princess Nazia lay on a bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses. The lead doctor, a grave expression on his face, addressed the anxious family and friends gathered around her. 'She's out of danger now. The poison has been flushed out of her body, and she'll make a full recovery...'

But his words trailed off, and he hesitated, his eyes avoiding the princess's face. 'However, I must warn you... her face... it's... it's not the same. The poison has left its mark, and...'

The doctor's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the brutality that had been inflicted on the princess. The room was heavy with sorrow and regret, as the reality of the situation sank in.

"The hospital room was a picture of despair, with the royal family and their entourage gathered around Princess Nazia's bed. King Riaz and Queen Sophia's faces were etched with worry, while Nazia's father, Mansabdar, and her mother, Mrs. Mansabdar, looked on in anguish. Her brother, Giovanni, stood by the window, his eyes fixed on the floor, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge.

Just then, the door burst open and Prince Shazad strode in, his face a mask of concern. 'What happened?' he demanded, his eyes scanning the room. 'I was told Nazia was attacked...'

King Riaz's face was grim. 'She was poisoned, Shazad. Someone tried to kill her.'

Prince Shazad's eyes widened in shock. 'Who would do such a thing?'

Mansabdar's voice was barely above a whisper. 'We don't know, dear. But we'll find out. We'll make sure they pay for this.'

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation settling upon them like a shroud. The royal family's worry and fear were palpable, their minds racing with thoughts of who could have committed such a heinous crime.""Memories flashed back, like a series of gruesome snapshots.

First, the scene that started it all: Chief lifeless body, slumped over his desk. The shock and grief etched on the faces of King Riaz and Queen Sophia.

Next, the eerie scene: Nazia receiving a mysterious box, her face pale as she opened it to reveal a human kidney. The horror and fear that gripped her heart.

Then, the brutal scene: Prince Shazad, laid out on the floor, his body motionless, a victim of a poison attack. The panic and chaos that followed.

And finally, the heartbreaking scene: Nazia's face, burned and disfigured, a victim of a heinous crime. The anguish and despair that gripped the royal family.

Each scene played out like a nightmare, a reminder of the evil that lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike again.""The doctor's words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow of fear and uncertainty over the room. 'We've checked the dress, and we found poison on it,' he said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of concern. 'But here's the thing - the poison was only on her body. That's why it's not dangerous"The doctor's words were like a spark that ignited a fire of fear and anger in the room. King Riaz's face turned red with rage, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination to find the culprit. Queen Sophia's hands were shaking, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed at her daughter's battered face. Mansabdar and Mrs. Mansabdar clung to each other, their faces pale with worry. Giovanni's jaw was clenched, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for a hidden enemy.

'Who could have done this?' King Riaz thundered, his voice echoing off the hospital walls. 'We will find out, and we will make them pay.'

The doctor nodded solemnly. 'I understand, Your Majesty. But for now, let's focus on Nazia's recovery. She's stable for the moment, but we need to monitor her closely.'

"All the maids stood in front of them, lined up in a row. But as the shopkeeper and student scanned their faces, they realized something was off. 'There's no one here,' the shopkeeper said, confusion etched on his face. 'I mean, there's no one who doesn't belong.'

The student nodded in agreement. 'Yes, I see all the maids, but there's no one extra. No one who could have commissioned the poisoned dress.'

Prince Shazad's face was grim. 'What do you mean? We know someone came in here, someone who claimed to be Princess Nazia's maid.'

The shopkeeper shrugged. 'I know, Your Highness. But I'm telling you, there's no one here who doesn't belong. It's as if... she vanished into thin air.'

The royal family exchanged worried glances. What was going on? Who was this mysterious woman?

"The royal family's fortunes had taken a dark and sinister turn. It was as if a curse had been unleashed upon them, a malevolent force that sought to destroy their happiness and their very lives. One by one, they fell prey to the evil that lurked in the shadows, their screams and cries echoing through the palace halls.

Was it the price they paid for their own mistakes, or was it the result of someone's vendetta against them? Whatever the reason, the outcome was clear: the royal family was being torn apart, their once-happy lives now a living nightmare.

Their joy and laughter had been replaced with tears and sorrow, their days filled with fear and dread. Who would be next to fall victim to the evil that haunted them? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: the royal family's happiness was no more, consumed by the very darkness that had once threatened to destroy them."

"Just as the mysterious girl vanished, the doctor burst into the room, his face etched with concern. 'What's going on here?' he demanded, rushing to Nazia's bedside.

He quickly examined her, his eyes scanning the machines that surrounded her. 'Her condition is deteriorating,' he muttered, his voice tight with worry. 'Her heart rate is racing... we need to act fast.'

But just as the doctor was about to administer a treatment, Nazia's eyes flickered open. She gazed up at the doctor, her expression confused and disoriented.

As the doctor breathed a sigh of relief, Nazia's hand slowly rose to her cheek. Her eyes widened in horror as she felt the scar tissue that now marred her once-perfect skin.

'What... what happened to me?' she stammered, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

The doctor's face was grim. 'We'll get to the bottom of this, Nazia. I promise. But for now, let's focus on getting you better.'

But Nazia's eyes were fixed on her reflection in the mirror, her mind reeling with the implications of the scar that now disfigured her face. Who had done this to her? And why?"

"Shazad burst into the room, his face etched with concern. 'Nazia, my love, what's wrong?' he asked, rushing to her side.

But Nazia cowered away, her hands covering her face. 'Don't look at me, Shazad,' she sobbed. 'I'm hideous. I'm ruined.'

Shazad's face softened. 'Nazia, my love, it's not your face that I love. It's you. Your heart, your soul, your spirit. Don't worry about your face. We'll get it fixed.'

Nazia peeked through her fingers, her eyes red and puffy. 'But how? The doctor said...'

Shazad smiled reassuringly. 'I spoke to Doctor Rashid, and he knows a specialist who can help us. A doctor who can fix your face, make you beautiful again.'

Nazia's tears slowed, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 'Really? You'd do that for me, Shazad?'

Shazad's voice was firm. 'I'd do anything for you, Nazia. You're my everything.'

And with that, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she cried, his love and support a beacon of hope in the darkness.""Just then, Doctor Rashid bustled into the room, a look of urgency on his face. 'The prince has arrived, Nazia. I've called in a specialist, a master in the medical field. Don't worry, princes, she'll take good care of you.'

Shazad nodded, relief washing over him. 'Thank you, Doctor Rashid. We appreciate it.'

As they exited the room, Shazad's eyes scanned the hallway, his gaze locking onto the secretary hovering nearby. 'Ah, Secretary Khan,' he said, his voice low and even. 'I see you're still keeping watch.'

The secretary bowed his head. 'Yes, Your Highness. All is under control. I've made sure that no news of the princess's condition or the party has leaked to the press.'"Shazad followed Doctor Rashid into his office, his mind still reeling from the events of the past few hours. As they entered, he noticed a figure sitting in the corner, her face obscured by a veil.

But as they approached, the figure slowly stood up, her movements graceful and fluid. And despite her attempts to hide her face, Shazad's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the curve of her neck, the slope of her shoulders.

'No,' he whispered, his eyes locked onto hers. 'It can't be.'

The girl's eyes flashed up, meeting his gaze for a brief, electric moment before she quickly hid her face again. But Shazad knew what he had seen. The spark of recognition, the flicker of fear.

'Doctor Rashid,' he said, his voice low and urgent. 'Who is this?'

The doctor's face was calm, but his eyes held a hint of wariness. 'This, Prince Shazad, is the specialist I told you about. She's the only one who can help Nazia. Her name is Anii.'

Shazad's gaze never left Anii's veiled face. 'Anii,' he repeated, the name echoing in his mind like a whispered secret.""'We meet again,' Prince Shazad said, his eyes locked onto Anii's veiled face.

'Yes, Prince,' Anii replied, her voice confident and steady.

Doctor Rashid's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 'Wow, you both know each other?'

Shazad's face was thoughtful. 'She's the one who treated my father just a few days ago, when he was a heart patient. And now, she's the only one who can help Nazia.'

Anii listened intently, her eyes never leaving the prince's face.

Shazad's gaze intensified, his eyes boring into hers. 'And now, you're the only one who can save Nazia.'

Anii's expression remained calm and confident. 'I'll do my best, Prince. I promise. And I won't let you down.'

Shazad's face softened, a small smile playing on his lips. 'I know you won't, Anii. You're the only one I trust to save Nazia.'

Anii's expression remained calm and confident, her eyes never wavering from the prince's face."'You all go out of the room,' Anii said, her voice firm and confident. 'I'll treat her, don't

worry, I'll do my best.'

Shazad nodded, his eyes never leaving Anii's face, and turned to leave the room. As he reached the door, he turned back to glance at Nazia, who lay motionless on the bed. He felt a pang in his heart, thinking, 'Nazia, you were always with me, and today, I'll be with you too.'

With a heavy heart, he stepped out of the room, leaving Anii alone with Nazia. As the door closed behind him, Anii entered the room, her eyes fixed on Nazia's frail form.

Shazad waited anxiously outside, his mind racing with thoughts of Nazia and Anii, wondering what the outcome would be. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Anii was more than just a skilled doctor, that there was something special about her that gave him hope."Nazia's eyes fluttered open, and she gazed up at Anii, her voice weak but curious. 'Who are you?'

Anii smiled, her eyes shining with confidence. 'I am your doctor, Nazia. The one who can fix your face.'

With a regal grace, Anii sat down in the chair beside Nazia's bed, her veil rustling softly. Nazia's eyes widened in surprise, and she asked again, 'Really, you can fix my face?'

Anii's expression was reassuring. 'Of course, Nazia. I can fix you. You know better than anyone that I'm the only one who can.'

Nazia's gaze lingered on Anii's face, searching for answers, for hope. And in Anii's eyes, she saw something that gave her the courage to trust. 'You're...different,' Nazia said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Anii's smile grew wider. 'Yes, Nazia. I am different. And that's why I'm the only one who can help you.'Anii's eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. 'And I saw...but I want something in return, Nazia. If you want me to fix your face like it was before...'

Nazia's eyes widened in fear, her voice trembling. 'O-o-oh, who are you?'

Anii chuckled, a low, throaty sound. 'Don't worry, Princess,' she said, her gaze flicking towards the door where Shazad waited. 'You know me, don't you, Princess? You know exactly who I am.'

Nazia's eyes darted back to Anii, searching for answers. 'W-w-what do you want from me?' she stammered.

Anii's smile grew wider, her eyes glinting with secrets. 'Oh, Nazia...I want something precious. Something only you can give me...'

'Ooo, Nazia, don't say that I was dead,' Anii's voice was low and menacing. 'How can I live? It's only a mystery, you know. I want to take revenge. You all will pay the price...'

Nazia's voice trembled with fear. 'W-what do you want, Salina?'

Anii's smile was cold and calculated. 'Nothing, Nazia. I just want one thing. Divorce from Shazad. And you can make it happen. I know Shazad loved you, and if you say so, he'll give me a divorce.'

Nazia's eyes widened in shock, but before she could respond, Anii continued. 'And then...'

With a swift motion, Anii applied an ointment to Nazia's face. It was as if magic happened. After just five minutes, Nazia's face was restored to its former beauty, with no scars or imperfections.

Nazia gazed in wonder, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror. 'H-how...how did you do this?' she stammered.

Anii's laughter was low and mysterious. Nazia. But remember, I always keep my promises. And I promise you, Nazia...you'll pay for what you did.'

'You can do it, Nazia,' Anii said, her voice firm and commanding. 'After two days, I'll come back, and I want you to have completed your task earlier. You know you have my place, and if you ask Shazad to give you a divorce, you'll be in my place...understand?'

Nazia nodded, still looking stunned, as Anii turned to leave. With a swift motion, Anii hid her face behind her veil once more and glided out of the room, leaving Nazia alone with her thoughts.

The silence was oppressive, heavy with secrets and hidden meanings. Nazia's mind raced with questions and fears, wondering what Anii's true intentions were ? The mystery deepened, and Nazia was trapped in its midst, unsure of what the future held.As Anii emerged from the room, the waiting crowd parted, their eyes fixed on her. Shazad stepped forward, concern etched on his face. 'Anii, how is she? Is she...?'

But Anii preempted his question, her voice firm. 'She's fine, Shazad. Check on her yourself.'

With a nod, Shazad hurried into the room, only to find Nazia sitting calmly, her face restored to its former beauty. He turned back to ask Anii something, but she was already gone, vanished into the crowd.

Doctor Rashid approached him, a knowing glint in his eye. 'Shazad, she's a busy person, and it was difficult to get an appointment with her. I think she's returned to her work now.'

Shazad's mind raced with questions. Who was this mysterious woman? Why did she seem so familiar? He couldn't shake off the feeling that their paths had crossed before, but he couldn't quite place her. The enigma that was Anii lingered, leaving him with more questions than answers.Shazad's concern deepened as he approached Nazia. 'Nazia, how are you?' he asked, his voice soft with worry.

But Nazia was lost in thought, her mind still reeling from the encounter with Anii. She didn't respond, her gaze distant and troubled.

Shazad's worry turned to alarm as Nazia suddenly hugged him tightly, her grip fierce. 'Nazia, what's wrong?' he asked, trying to pull back and look at her face, but she refused to let go.

'Nothing, Shazad,' she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. 'Just hold me.'The palace was filled with joy and relief as Nazia's recovery became apparent. But amidst the celebrations, Prince Shazad stood at the window of his office, lost in thought. Secretary Danial approached him, curiosity etched on his face.

'What happened, Prince?' Danial asked, trying to understand the mysterious events that had transpired.

Shazad's gaze remained fixed on the horizon. 'Nothing,' he replied, his voice low and enigmatic.

Danial pressed on, 'But, sir, we've been trying to find Anii. We even asked Doctor Rashid, but he claims he doesn't know anything about her. It's as if she appeared out of thin air.'

Shazad's expression remained unreadable. 'I see,' was his only response.

Danial continued, 'And when we mentioned Nazia's name, it was as if...I don't know, sir. It was as if Anii was summoned. She arrived in an instant, as if she had been waiting for the call. We don't know who she is or where she comes from, but...'

Shazad's silence was oppressive, heavy with secrets and unanswered questions. The mystery of Anii lingered, a puzzle that none could solve.