The dining hall was nothing short of a masterpiece. Intricate gold latticework framed the arched windows, through which the desert night spilled in, cool and starlit. The chandeliers hung like falling galaxies, illuminating the long table dressed in crystal, silver, and silence.

Maya walked in with measured steps, her cream silk saree trailing behind her. The neckline was modest, but the fabric hugged her too perfectly—Zayed’s choice, as always. She had wanted to pick her own outfit. But when she saw the box with a handwritten note—Wear this.—she didn’t defy him.

She wouldn’t show it yet, but his silence after the garden encounter had unsettled her more than any of his fury. She didn’t understand him. And part of her was beginning to accept she might never fully.

Zayed was already at the head of the table, seated like a king on a throne of patience and command.

He didn’t rise when she entered. He didn’t have to.

His eyes slid over her, slow and deliberate.

“You listened,” he said.

“I’m your wife,” she replied carefully. “You said there would be no silence tonight.”

He nodded once, then gestured to the seat at his right—close, too close for a table this grand.

Maya sat, her movements graceful, though she was all nerves inside. A servant poured wine for her. She stopped him politely.

“No. Just water, please.”

Zayed's brows arched slightly, and the corners of his mouth twitched. “Still trying to stay untouchable?”

She met his eyes. “No. Just trying to stay present.”

There was a silence then—thick, curious, watching.

The food arrived in courses—lavish, delicate, fragrant. But Maya barely touched anything.

Zayed noticed.

“You’re not eating.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You will eat.”

There was no threat in his tone. Only fact. But something about the way he said it made her pick up her fork without question.

Zayed studied her as she chewed, slow and hesitant. She hated how aware she was of his gaze, how every movement felt magnified under it.

“I’m not angry anymore,” he said, breaking the quiet.

“You were never angry,” she replied. “You were... cold. Furious, maybe. But never loud.”

“I don’t raise my voice unless there’s a reason. And your smile wasn’t worth breaking my calm for—not in public, at least.”

She flinched.

Zayed leaned in slightly, his voice like velvet over steel. “You must learn, Maya. Being mine—it comes with weight. With walls. With war, if needed. I will protect you from everything, even yourself.”

“You think I need protecting from myself?”

“I think you don’t understand how the world sees you now.”

She put her fork down. “And how does it see me?”

“Untouchable. Forbidden. Royal. Mine.”

That word again. It echoed in her chest.

He reached out suddenly, not touching her skin—but adjusting the delicate bracelet on her wrist. It was gold, studded with a tiny emerald. His touch lingered longer than necessary.

“This belonged to my mother,” he said. “She wore it on her wedding night. And only once after that. The day she gave birth to me.”

Maya’s breath caught. Zayed never spoke of his past. Of his family.

“She must have loved you very much.”

Zayed’s expression darkened—not in anger, but in memory. “She loved power. She taught me never to be weak. And never to love without control.”

Maya dared to ask, “Do you love anything, Zayed?”

He met her gaze fully now, and for a moment, the mask slipped.

“I love silence. Obedience. Loyalty.”

Then, after a pause—barely a whisper:

“And perhaps, the way your voice trembles when I stand too close.”

Maya’s lips parted, stunned, caught off guard.

He leaned back, sipping his wine slowly, as if he hadn’t just undressed her soul with a single sentence.

The dinner ended in silence. But not the kind they started with.

This one was heavier, hotter. Full of things unsaid. Of longing, of fear, of curiosity.

When she rose to leave, Zayed didn’t stop her. But as she passed by him, he spoke, eyes locked on his glass:

“Soon, Maya… you will understand that I don’t just want your body or your obedience. I want your mind. Your fear. Your devotion. And in time, I will have it all.”

She didn’t turn. She only walked faster, breath trembling, heat crawling up her spine.

Because somehow, despite everything…

She was beginning to want to give it to him.