Truly, the journey is very beautiful. Even if only for a few moments, one still finds peace” Zulekha says softly to herself.

Around her was a breathtaking view.

It was the season of falling leaves. A soft, gentle breeze moved through the air, the waves of water flowed quietly, and the sweet chirping of birds filled the surrounding silence.

Looking at the sky, Zulekha says, “There is so much silence.”

She walks ahead, and her foot steps on a dry leaf. The leaf crushes beneath her feet with a soft crackling sound.

She begins to speak again,

“Perhaps this season of falling leaves is the season of separation. Just like leaves fall and scatter away… yet somehow, they still look beautiful.”

Taking a deep breath, Zulekha softly says,

“Life is just like that too.”

And then she goes and sits near the tree.

Resting her chin upon her knees, she once again begins to look at the sky.

Quietly, she asks herself,

“Why is it like this, Zulekha?”

The wind passes softly beside her, as if carrying the answer somewhere far away, yet the surrounding silence only grows deeper.

Life never truly gives us everything we desire, and what life gives us… perhaps we could never have even imagined.”

Zulekha softly speaks to herself,

“Perhaps I do not even have the right to say anything about life.”

Then, quietly taking her own name, she says,

“This is Zulekha… and maybe the journey is still unfinished. Whatever has passed until now, whatever is here, and whatever is yet to come — no matter how it is — it all belongs only to me.”

She wished she could say,

“As beautiful as this world is… life is beautiful too.”

Zulekha turns toward the tree.

Placing her hand gently upon it, she begins to whisper,

“I wish I could say that life is like this too…”

But suddenly, she pulls her hand away from the tree.

She stands up quickly, her eyes widening completely.

“What am I even thinking? Have I gone mad?”

For a moment she falls silent, then softly says,

“Still… whether anyone believes it or not, what I received is something only a few people ever do.”

A faint smile appears on Zulekha’s face.

...****************...

In the city, a young man was buying flowers from a flower shop.

He seemed lost within himself, his gaze fixed only upon the flowers resting in his hands.

A little distance away, Zulekha was walking softly, humming to herself.

Suddenly, chaos spread through the streets. People began running in every direction.

Zulekha hurried forward to see what had happened, but while running, she suddenly stopped.

People were shouting excitedly as they passed by,

“The prince has returned from the war! Tonight there will be a celebration of victory!”

Yet amidst all that noise, Zulekha’s eyes remained fixed upon that young man.

He was tall and strong-looking, but everyone kept pushing against him while rushing past.

Zulekha softly mutters,

“He looks perfectly fine… then why is he standing there like a statue? Can’t he see these people?”

She walks toward him.

By then, the crowd had crushed the flowers beneath their feet. The petals were scattered mercilessly across the ground, as though the life had been trampled out of them.

Zulekha bends down beside him and begins gathering the broken flowers one by one.

While picking them up, she quietly says,

“People are strange… always running after money and those who already have it. If they help someone poor move forward, what would they really lose? Relationships too… they are tied to money now.”

She pauses for a moment before continuing softly,

“And now, even to protect your own dignity, you have to earn. Whatever path you choose, whatever dreams you chase… in the end, money is needed. We only wish for our needs to be fulfilled, for life to pass a little more easily, but people do not see that. That’s why power matters now… and today, money itself is power.”

A few flowers still rested in her hands when the young man finally spoke,

“Leave them.”

But Zulekha continues gathering the petals.

Again he says quietly,

“I said… leave them. Their place was there, and now they belong there.”

Hearing him, Zulekha slowly lets the flowers fall from her hands as well.

Silently, she stands up and walks past him without another word.

As she walks away, thoughts begin circling within her mind.

“Did I say too much?

Should I have said something else?

Or perhaps… I should have simply picked up the flowers and left quietly.”

Zulekha walked away, but the young man remained standing where he was.

He muttered to himself, it's unusually noisy today. People seem happier than ever. It's strange that they're all celebrating the same thing.

He began to walk away, still lost in his thoughts. As he moved through the crowded streets, he spoke to himself once again.

"That girl forgot something important. To live, one must fight. Whether it's for oneself, for loved ones, or sometimes even against oneself. Whether we want to or not, in the end, blood will always be spilled."

His mind drifted back to the battlefield.

War was raging. Darkness covered the land, and screams echoed from every direction. Everyone was fighting. Countless bodies lay helpless upon the ground, while many wounded soldiers writhed in agony. Blood stained the earth as far as the eye could see.

The young man stopped in front of a coffee shop and stepped inside.

A worker greeted him politely.

He walked over to a seat by the window and ordered a cup of coffee.

Nearby, another worker finished serving snacks to a customer and approached the owner, who was sitting behind the cash counter.

"Did you hear?" the worker asked. "Many of our people were martyred in the war."

The owner nodded.

"Yes."

The worker hesitated before asking, "Will these wars ever come to an end?"

The owner sighed.

Who knows? They say that as the people are, so their homes become. Homes shape a nation, and nations shape their governments."

The young man listened quietly to their conversation and let out a faint smile.

At that moment, a young woman rushed out of the kitchen.

Sorry! I'm so sorry!" she said breathlessly.

She hurried to his table, placed his coffee before him, and apologized once again for the delay.

The young man simply nodded.

Lifting the mug with both hands, he gazed through the window at the people passing by outside and took a slow sip.

As he watched them, a thought crossed his mind.

They don't even know why they're fighting these wars. They were merely puppets of those in power. The rulers declared someone our enemy, and we answered with war. They called them traitors, and we blindly picked up our swords and marched into battle."

He paused, staring at the bustling streets.

"But this war has no real purpose. It is nothing more than the work of those who crave power."

"It wasn't fought for survival. It wasn't fought to protect others. It wasn't fought for honor or identity."

"It was fought for power."

For power, countless homes were turned into battlefields."

His eyes remained fixed on the world outside.

"No matter the era, whether one wishes to live or to rule, power is always required."

...****************...

In front of her stood a magnificent palace, its towering walls radiating grandeur from afar. At the center of the vast courtyard was a splendid fountain, its crystal-clear water sparkling beneath the sunlight like countless pearls. Surrounding it were blooming rose gardens, their fragrance spreading through the air. The entire courtyard looked less like reality and more like a dream brought to life.

Zulekha gazed at the palace and spoke softly, "I wonder how many people dream of living in a place like this. I once dreamed of it too."

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

"And that dream has become reality. But the happiness I feel today is not the same as before. Back then, there was joy, but no peace. Today, I have both joy and peace, yet somehow... it still feels incomplete."

As she approached, the grand gates of the palace were opened for her. The workers standing along the entrance bowed respectfully and greeted her.

Zulekha looked around and asked, "Where is everyone?"

One of the workers stepped forward and replied, "My Lady, everyone is waiting for you in the dining hall."

This kingdom was known as the second most powerful nation in the world.

Within the realm, four great noble families held the highest influence and authority.

From the North ruled Saalar Sameer Mirza.

From the South stood Sikandar Raza Baqri.

From the East was Altamash Haider Shirazi.

From the West was Shameer Talha Amrohi.

And as for me, I belong to the Mirza family, one of the most influential and respected families in the entire kingdom.

It was a beautiful evening. The sun was slowly setting, and the golden light streaming through the palace windows spread warmly throughout the halls.

Zulekha and Zoya, dressed and ready, were walking down the stairs. They stopped in front of each other and looked at one another for a few moments.

Smiling, Zoya asked,

"Zulekha, how do I look?"

Looking around carelessly, Zulekha replied,

"You look alright."

The moment she heard that, Zoya grabbed Zulekha by the shoulders.

"Look at me and say it."

As soon as Zulekha looked at her, a smile appeared on her lips.

"You look beautiful."

Delighted, Zoya held the edge of her gown and gave a graceful little twirl.

"See? Don't I?""You look beautiful."

Just then, Salma's voice echoed from downstairs,

"You two, come downstairs quickly!"

The moment Zulekha spotted Saalar, she happily rushed toward him. But suddenly, she stepped on the hem of her own dress and stumbled forward.

Everyone gasped in alarm. Saalar immediately hurried toward her.

However, just before she could fall, Zulekha firmly grabbed the stair railing and steadied herself.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Salma said,

"Thank God!"

Smiling, Zulekha replied,

"I'm fine."

Then she walked up to Saalar and asked in a playful tone,

"Alright, tell me... how do I look?"

At that moment, Zoya also came downstairs and stood beside them, lost in thought.

Saalar looked at her in surprise.

"What are you thinking about?"

Zulekha lightly nudged him with her elbow, as if reminding him to answer her question.

Suddenly, Zoya smiled and said,

"I was just thinking about what Zulekha would have looked like if she had fallen flat on her face."

As soon as she said it, she burst into laughter.

"That would have been quite a sight. And I was wondering what would have happened if she had rolled all the way down the stairs," Saalar added.

The two of them started laughing loudly together.

Zulekha puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.

"Both of you, be quiet!"

But neither of them could stop laughing.

Finally, Salma lightly tapped Zoya on the head and Saalar on the shoulder.

"That's enough, you two."

Hearing that, Zulekha folded her arms and said with a pout,

"Yes, now stop laughing already, both of you!"

Her words made everyone smile, while Zulekha continued glaring at them.

Seeing her puffed-up face, Saalar and Zoya couldn't help but burst into laughter once again

...****************...

The Imperial Party was in full swing, overflowing with grandeur and elegance.

The vast hall glittered beneath magnificent chandeliers. Noble families, ministers, and royal guests filled every corner. Laughter, cheerful conversations, and the clinking of glasses echoed throughout the hall, creating a lively atmosphere.

Zoya was standing with a group of noble young ladies, chatting happily, while Zulekha stood a short distance away, unsuccessfully trying to hide her nervousness.

At last, she quietly approached Saalar.

"Brother, I'm going to the washroom."

Saalar simply nodded.

Relieved, Zulekha let out a quiet breath and quickly left.

The moment she stepped outside the hall, she tightly held her stomach.

Oh god..." she murmured under her breath. "I'm so nervous."

Taking a deep breath, she continued walking.

However, her long, heavy gown kept tangling around her feet.

"Ugh... what a nuisance!"

She bent down to fix her dress and became so occupied with it that she completely lost awareness of her surroundings.

At that very moment, Crown Prince Hind shahzaib baig and his Royal Secretary, Ayan, were walking down the corridor.

Hind's gaze suddenly fell upon her, and his footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

Zulekha passed right by him, completely unaware, her attention still fixed on her dress.

She had barely taken a few steps when Hind turned and watched her walk away.

Ayan looked at him in surprise.

"Your Highness, do you know that young lady?"

For a few moments, Hind remained silent.

"Yes..." he finally replied in a low voice. "We have met before."

Ayan's eyes widened.

"Where? When?"

But Hind did not answer.

Instead, another scene appeared before his eyes...

A street covered with scattered flowers...

And a young woman bending down to gather them...

Zulekha

"I never thought..." Hind said to himself, "...that we would meet again here."

Meanwhile, Ayan continued asking questions, but Hind's attention was elsewhere.

His thoughts revolved around a single name.

Zulekha

Later, when the celebration had reached its peak, His Majesty raised a glass of juice and addressed the guests.

"I am grateful to all of you. Without your support, we could never have won this war. Tonight is a night of celebration. Please enjoy the party."

The hall erupted into applause.

At that moment, Zulekha's eyes wandered toward the royal platform above, where Hind was standing.

"It's him..."

"The flower man..."

As she looked at him, Hind's gaze met hers.

Startled, Zulekha immediately lowered her eyes.

A short while later, Second Prince Faizan shah baig approached them.

Everyone exchanged greetings.

"I am Zulekha Mirza, the sister of Grand Duke Saalar Mirza."

Faizan smiled.

"And I am Faizan, the Second Prince of Sahar."

"I've always wanted to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine."

Zulekha smiled.

"After all, you are my sister's fiancé."

Faizan chuckled and turned toward Zoya. Extending his hand, he asked,

"My Lady, would you honor me with a dance?"

A faint blush spread across Zoya's cheeks as she placed her hand in his.

Together, they walked toward the dance floor.

A little later, Saalar said,

"I'll go and greet His Majesty."

"Alright, Brother."

As soon as he left, Zulekha glanced around.

"Looks like I'm all alone now..."

"I should probably sneak away too."

Quietly, she slipped out of the hall and made her way toward the palace garden.

The garden was peaceful and silent beneath the clear night sky. The fragrance of flowers drifted gently through the cool evening air.

But the moment she stepped inside, her feet froze.

Someone was sitting on a marble bench.

Curious, Zulekha took a few cautious steps forward to see who it was.

Crown Prince Hind.

The moment she recognized him, she instinctively took a step back.

At that exact moment, Hind turned his head and saw her.

Slowly, he rose from his seat.

Zulekha unconsciously took another step backward.

And then another.

But Hind began walking toward her.

His footsteps were calm and unhurried.

With every step he took, Zulekha felt her heart beat faster, yet she remained rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Finally, he stopped in front of her.

Only a few steps separated them.

Zulekha immediately lowered her eyes.