Jafar, now inside Rania, uses his new body to get closer to Aisha

Layla, Jasmine and Jafar in Rania’s body left the place of relaxation, though, ironically, the moment they had spent there had not been relaxing at all for any of them. The sun had now almost completely set. The sky was a uniform background of dark blue that still emitted a small bit of light and the stars were not visible yet, but the gardens were much darker than when Jafar had entered. If it were not for the small lanterns lighting up the gardens, the three of them might have had a hard time seeing. However, the way they illuminated the gardens made them almost as fair as the faces of the three maids at this time of day. The fact that the lanterns were of different colors to each other along with the many pigments of the flowers made it so the place was an otherworldly explosion of colors.

Jafar had had his fun for the moment, now he needed to think about business.

"Did you two find anything out about the trap the sultan has planned for me?" he asked as they walked into the nightly beauty of the gardens.

Layla and Jasmine exchanged a knowing glance. "We have" said Layla. "Apparently, the sultan is so determined to catch you, he is willing to invade his own daughter's privacy and dignity"

"How is that?", asked Jafar.

"He is having royal inquisitors watch her sleep without her knowledge or consent" added Jasmine, still limping with the pain to her butthole. "We overheard a conversation between two of them. Supposedly, almost 10 years ago, the sultan built secret passages in the palace that lead to an empty space around the princess's room. From there, they can peek through small holes in the walls and watch her sleep. They've been doing this every night for the past 10 years. The conversation happened while they were changing shifts at the entrance of one of these passages, so we know the location of one of them"

Jafar stopped for a moment. Getting to Aisha would be much harder than anticipated. Royal inquisitors were worse than simple guards. They were a secret police, the sultan's most trusted enforcers whose sole job it was to track down and arrest or kill any student or user of magic or trader of magical items they came across. They were the ones leading the investigation on him, the infamous Faceless One and he had encountered some of them a couple of times.

Once, one of his female informants was lured by an inquisitor who pretended he was a black market seller of magic scrolls. He invited her for some coffee with him as they discussed the price of a scroll Jafar had sent her to buy, but the coffee he served her was poisonous and she died. That's when he decided he would possess his female lackeys whenever they had to conclude a deal. He reasoned these women would be much safer if they had his powers and his cunning along with them (black market sellers were rare enough that he could afford to possess them every single time), and there's one particular time he saved one of his servant's life because of that. Another inquisitor once again posed as a black market seller and as soon as Jafar approached the scroll (which was fake anyway) to read it, the bastard pulled a knife on him. He was able to save both himself and the woman he was possessing thanks to his quick reflexes and proficiency in hand to hand combat, but if he hadn't been there possessing her, she would have been as good as dead.

He then remembered that during the interrogation and genital inspection of the maids, one of them was discreetly staying in the background, taking notes as the captain of the guards was interrogating the maids. When the maids had to undress, he was the only man in the room who didn’t seem affected at all by the sight of so many naked women. Such was their character: they only thought of their mission. Anything else was a pointless distraction. They were ruthless, zealous, and they were an organization Jafar would be more than happy to dissolve once he'd become sultan, but above all, they were fiercely loyal to sultan Al-Rahman or at least, they were loyal to his anti-magic policies. It's no wonder that the task of spying on his daughter to protect her from flesh wizards would fall on them.

But why had they talked about that so openly? As a secret police, it should be their job to keep their mouths shut and to prevent their secrets from being discovered. Perhaps, they were so disgusted or bored by their task that they were begging for someone to discover their secret so that the operation finally stopped, or perhaps it was simply a trap within a trap. He also thought of the fact that the secret passages had been built 10 years ago, which did not coincide at all with Jafar's last attempt to possess Aisha. No, it coincided with the **** of Aisha's mother, which he thought was...interesting.

"Great job, my sweeties" he told them. "You have been great double agents. Now, we need to think of a way to get rid of these observers. As long as they're there, claiming Aisha will be impossible."

He thought for a moment and said "What if we could get Aisha to find out about her observers? That would make her lash out at her father and hopefully, she'd pressure him enough for him to stop this surveillance...Of course, we can't simply tell her that she's being watched on orders of her father. The sultan would take that as a betrayal and we all know what happens to those who betray the sultan..."

"But how do we get her to find out without it looking suspicious?" asked Layla, her mind racing.

"You said there were tiny holes in her room, right? Well, you...or, rather, WE are her maids! We tend to her every need. We spend our days going to her room. First, we need to find the holes ourselves and then, we innocently tell the princess that there appears to be some cracks in her walls and that we probably should call in the construction workers to fix the problem or something. That will make her come inspect the problem to see if it's worth the effort to bother with it and if she notices a pair of eyes through them, we win, but that will be…difficult. There's probably a better solution."

Layla and Jasmine exchanged a quick nod of understanding. "But master," Jasmine began, "we are from the east wing. We're not allowed anywhere near the princess now"

"Right, YOU are not allowed. I will have to do it all on my own" answered Jafar.

Layla and Jasmine nodded in unison, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on them. They had to be careful. The last thing they needed was for the sultan to suspect anything before they had the chance to claim Aisha.

"But master," Layla spoke up tentatively, her eyes darting around the shadowy gardens as if the very walls had ears, "the guards are much more vigilant tonight. Security around the maids' quarters has been reinforced. If they were to hear any...unusual noises coming from Rania's room, it could raise suspicion. So...you should probably avoid having sex with Rania's roommate"

Thinking about this, Jafar searched through Rania's memory to find out who her roommate was. He hoped she wasn't too hot, otherwise, his stay with her would be quite frustrating and...GOD DAMMIT!!! It was Fatima! Out of all the maids in the palace, why did the one he chose to possess have to share a room with the mesmerizing belly dancer whom all men looked at at the ball, their mouths watering and their wives looking at both her and them with disgust and jealousy? He shared a private space with her, but he couldn't fuck her. To him, it was the definition of ****. Every night, he would have to fight hard to resist the urge to take her. Sure, tonight, it would be rather easy, since he still had the satisfaction from the events of the milk bath, but as the days would go on, it would become harder and harder. But he couldn't let his desires get in the way of his plan. He had to be strategic.

"Understood," he said with a sigh.

They continued walking. They entered the palace in the center wing of the maid’s quarters (yes, the palace was so huge, the maid’s quarters had to be split into different wings), until they came to a crossroads.

"You two go back to your wing. I'll find a way to deal with the situation here."

As they parted ways, Jafar approached Rania's quarters, his mind racing with thoughts of the delicious Fatima. He had to focus on the task at hand, but the memory of her sultry dance at the ball played on repeat in his mind, her hips swaying like a serpent and her eyes filled with a fiery passion that seemed to call to him.

"By God, I'm gonna fuck that one so hard once I am sultan" he thought to himself.

The door to Rania's quarters was a simple, unassuming thing, made of unadorned wood that had seen better days. With a quiet creak, the door swung open, revealing a space that was small but neat, with two beds, a washbasin, and a small table with a few personal items. The room was dimly lit by the flickering candles that cast a warm glow across the space, making it seem almost cozy despite the stark reality of its purpose.

Fatima was there, her light brown curly hair floated as she was washing away her makeup. She looked up, her eyes catching the reflection of the person that entered the room in the mirror. She saw Rania, but something was off. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the look of hunger in her roommate's gaze. It was a look she had never seen from her before.

"Hey there Rania! How was your milk bath with those girls from the east wing?"

Jafar, in Rania's body, tried to keep his expression neutral as he took in the sight of Fatima. He had seen her dance at the ball and knew that she was a temptress of the highest order. The way she moved had made his cock throb, and now here she was, in the flesh, just a few feet away from him.

"It was...great," he replied, his voice a little more gruff than he had intended. "It was so good for my skin. It feels so soft and young now because of it"

Fatima looked at Rania with a raised eyebrow. "Your skin has always been perfect, girl. But if you say so, let me touch it, will you?" She turned to face Jafar fully, and that was when he saw them. Her breasts were like two full moons, heavy and ripe, straining against the fabric of her dress. The neckline was low-cut, showing off a tantalizing amount of cleavage that made his mouth water.

He nodded, his heart racing as he watched her hand come closer to his skin. He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into an ocean of pleasure. The moment her fingertips brushed against Rania's forearm, it was as if an electric shock ran through him. He had to fight the urge to grab her, to pull her into a passionate embrace.

Fatima's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow, your skin is so soft, like silk," she murmured. "You know what? Maybe I should try it too. Maybe it will do wonders for me as well. Next time those girls from east wing invite you, do you think you could ask them if I could join in?"

Jafar nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, "I will," he said (and damn right he would), his voice thick with desire.

Without any warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Fatima's. The moment their flesh touched, he felt a surge of power, a jolt of electricity that shot through him. His tongue explored her mouth with a hunger that demanded way more than that.

Fatima's eyes went wide with shock before her body melted into the kiss. It was as if she had no control over herself, as if she was a puppet and he was pulling the strings. He felt her mind open up to him, her thoughts and memories laying bare before him. He saw her life, her fears, her desires, everything...

Fatima's body responded to the kiss, her hands moving to Jafar's hips, pulling him closer as if she couldn't get enough of him. Her tongue danced with his, a passionate tango that spoke of a hunger that matched his own. But it was more than just passion, it was submission. She was giving herself to him, offering her body and soul for his use.

But Jafar knew that he couldn't let this go on. He had to maintain his cover, and to keep his true identity a secret. With a herculean effort, he pulled away from her, his eyes flashing with a mix of desire and self-control. "Not now," he murmured, his voice thick with unfulfilled longing. "We mustn't risk it."

It was not to begin something bigger (not tonight anyway) that Jafar had kissed her. It was simply to put her under his control. To make her a pawn in his plan to get to Aisha. He could always use another **** to serve him in his plan. It was too bad his mind control kiss only worked on women. He had never been attracted to men, but if it allowed him to gain access to Aisha, he would have kissed every single guard and royal inquisitor in the palace. Sadly though, that option was off the table.

Fatima then asked him "Then how could I be of assistance, mistress Rania?"

"The name is Jafar. I am only using your roommate as a vessel. Your first task is to stop being so tempting! I'm not sure how you would be able to do that, though, but the thing is, if we have sex, the guards would hear us and our plans would be discovered. Anyway, I'm tired. Let's just go to bed...separately"

Fatima's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I understand, master Jafar," she murmured, her voice a sultry purr. "But I can be very...quiet. So, if the urge to take me ever becomes too strong, I am at your disposal."

Oh boy, was it going to be difficult to resist…

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you. Now, good night, Fatima."

"Good night, master."

As he went to bed, Jafar thought of how to get Aisha to find out about her father’s surveillance without putting himself in danger. Of course, the simplest and most efficient way would be to order one of the maids under his power to tell Aisha, but then that maid would be the one losing her head for betraying the sultan, and he didn’t want to do that. Despite all the things he did, Jafar had some sense of morality and he cared about the lives of the women under his power and not just for the great sex they provided him. If it was only for that, he’d just kiss any random woman who was not to his taste serving in the palace (and there were lots of them) and send her to die by telling Aisha. But he didn’t want to do that either. He genuinely wanted to avoid as much loss of life as possible.

For the same reason, he couldn’t bring himself to **** the sultan. It would be easy. Just bring a snake into the palace, control it to get into Al-Rahman’s room and have it bite him, but again, his moral code made him ****. He wasn’t COMPLETELY above killing, but he would only do it if he was left with no other choice. There’s also the fact that as long as he wasn’t married to Aisha, the safety of the empire depended on Al-Rahman. Despite how hated he was for his repression of magic, Al-Rahman had ruled the sultanate for so long that his presence brought stability. He didn’t have a male heir and no, Aisha couldn’t take the throne without a man by her side. That’s just not how things were done at this time and place. Nobody would accept it, not even the women. Such an idea was alien even to them. If Al-Rahman were to die tomorrow, provinces would start seceding left and right and all Jafar would inherit would be a collection of warring states fighting each other. As much as the sultan was an obstacle to his plans, he needed him.

The next day, both Jafar and Fatima were awakened by the sound of a service bell that signaled they were expected in the kitchen of the center wing, probably for a morning gathering and a distribution of tasks by the matron. Jafar was about to experience what it was like to be a palace maid. Sure, last time, he had possessed two of them, but it was only briefly and mostly out of service hours.

They arrived at the kitchen. I was filled with beautiful maids that all tempted Jafar to various degrees. Jafar wondered if Aisha had chosen them specifically for their beauty. Was it to make a point and to prove that she was the most beautiful woman in the world by still being the most beautiful when surrounded by such exquisite beauties? Jafar didn’t know, but he had to admit that if it was the case, it worked and he would take great pleasure in turning them all into his harem once he was sultan. In the middle of all the beauties stood an old woman. She wasn’t anywhere close to the level of beauty of the maids that surrounded her. She was more like the kind of woman Jafar would send to tell Aisha about the surveillance if he had no qualms about wasting lives. She was fat and her face was badly wrinkled.

"Good morning, my dear maidens," she croaked in a voice that sounded like she had been chewing on sand. "Today is a new day filled with new tasks for the most dedicated of servants."

The matron began calling out names, assigning each maid a duty that seemed trivial yet crucial to the running of the grand palace. She handed out jobs like a miser handing out gold coins, making sure that each one was given with the intention of keeping the recipient busy enough to not have a moment to themselves. The maids responded with curtsies and nods, accepting their duties with varying degrees of grace before leaving the room to start working.

Almost everyone had been given an assignment. There was only Jafar, Fatima and another one left.

"Ah, Fatima," the matron said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You will perform for the sultan and the princess during their breakfast. They expect to be entertained. The musicians are already awaiting you to begin practicing. And you two," she nodded at Jafar and the last maid, "will help the princess prepare for the meal. It starts in one hour, so don't dawdle. She must be ready and dressed to perfection."

"Yes, matron" they answered in unison.

Jafar, in Rania's body, followed Fatima out of the kitchen and into the labyrinthine corridors of the palace. He took a moment to appreciate the way her hips swayed with each step, the fabric of her dress doing little to hide the tantalizing curves beneath. As they walked, he delved into Rania's memories, searching for the name of the last maid. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of daily routines and gossip, but soon he found what he was looking for. Her name was Meriem. Fatima then parted ways with the group to go practicing with the musicians. "See you later," she said with a wink that sent a shiver down his spine.

Meriem looked at him with curiosity. She was not as beautiful as the maids he had possessed, but she was cute.

"So, Rania," Meriem began, her voice a sweet melody in the early morning air.

"Yes, Meriem?" Jafar responded.

Meriem leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Rania, who do you think the princess will marry?"

"Well, Meriem, that's the question on everyone's lips, isn't it?"

With that, Jafar took a step closer to Meriem. The corridor was deserted, the perfect setting for a clandestine conversation or, in this case, an unexpected embrace. Before Meriem could even react, Jafar leaned in and captured her plump lips with a kiss that was as surprising as it was passionate.

"Me Meriem! She will marry me!" he whispered in her ears.

And just like that, he had another **** among the maids. He thought he could eventually kiss every single maid in the palace like that. That would give him an army of spies all working to secure his way to Aisha and he was gonna need every single one of them because of those damn royal inquisitors!!!

They arrived at Aisha's room. Two guards, dressed in gleaming armor, with stern expressions that seemed chiseled into their faces, stood outside the door. Jafar felt his heart quicken as he anticipated seeing Aisha again. He had to play this just right.

The guards, recognizing the center wing maids, nodded curtly and opened the door for them. The opulence of Aisha's chamber washed over Jafar like a warm, fragrant breeze. The walls were adorned with gold leaf and intricate mosaics, depicting scenes of beauty and power. The floor was covered in a plush carpet that muffled their footsteps, adding to the sense of quiet luxury.

As they entered, Aisha knew it was time to get up. The guards remained by the door on the inside, their eyes scanning the room as if expecting trouble to materialize from the shadows. Another safety measure added by the sultan since Jafar's last visit.

"Good morning, your highness," Jafar said with a courteous smile, his eyes never leaving hers. The way she looked at him made his heart race, his cock swell. But he couldn't act on his desires, not yet.

"Good morning" she got out of bed and stretched.

While Meriemand Jafar began the meticulous task of helping Aisha get ready for the day, Jafar's mind raced with thoughts of potential surveillance points. His eyes scanned the opulent chamber, looking for any sign of concealed peepholes.

"Meriem," he whispered telepathically, his thoughts invading her mind like a silent whisper in a quiet room. "I need you to be vigilant. Look for any signs of surveillance in this room. The sultan is paranoid and may have hidden eyes and ears everywhere."

Meriem nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes widening with understanding. As they worked, she began to search for any anomalies in the decorations, any out-of-place objects that could hide a spy's gaze. Jafar focused on Aisha, who was oblivious to the silent conversation happening between him and Meriem.

Her graceful movements as she got dressed were mesmerizing, and he had to **** himself to pay attention to the task at hand. Meriem, however, remained vigilant. After a few minutes of searching, her eyes fell on a small, almost invisible pair of peepholes next to an intricate tapestry on the wall. She gasped quietly, her eyes darting to Jafar with alarm.

"Master," she thought to him urgently, "I've found something!"

Jafar's eyes flicked towards Meriem, the urgency in her thoughts echoing in the room like a shout in a library. A shout only he was able to hear.

"Great!" He whispered in her mind. "I will now make sure our little princess notices them"

"Your highness," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "Isn't this tapestry exquisite? The detail in the weaving is simply breathtaking. Is that the one that was gifted to you by vizier Ibrahim?"

Aisha looked over, following his gaze to the spot where Meriem had indicated the peepholes. "Why, yes it is," she said, her curiosity piqued. "It's one of my favorites. Would you mind straightening it for me?"

"With pleasure, your Highness!" Jafar had a malicious grin as he approached the tapestry. This would be the perfect excuse to point out the two holes.

He examined the tapestry, his eyes scrutinizing it as if he were a master weaver examining a piece of his own work. "These stitches... so intricate," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "But wait... what's this?"

He reached out with his delicate hand, the hand of Rania, and touched the wall lightly, tracing the edges of the two tiny, almost invisible peepholes. His heart raced with excitement. "Your Highness, I'm not sure if it's just a trick of the light, but it seems like there are... imperfections in the wall."

Aisha raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden concern in Jafar's voice. She walked over to inspect the tapestry, her silk robe trailing behind her like a cloud. "Where are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes searching the wall.

Jafar stepped aside, allowing her to move closer to the peepholes. "Here," he said, pointing at the wall with Rania's dainty finger. "Do you see these... irregularities?"

Aisha leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she studied the spot. After a moment, her eyes widened in horror as she realized what they were. "Peepholes!" she whispered, her voice a mix of anger and fear. "My own father would spy on me!"

"But your Highness!" said Jafar with feigned concern, even though what he really felt was only arousal. His mighty cock was still retracted in Rania's body, but if it wasn't, it would be as hard as steel right now. That was the thrill of the hunt. A hunt which was soon going to reach a successful conclusion and he would soon claim his prize. "We cannot be sure these really are peepholes, much less that your father is behind this..."

Aisha's eyes blazed with anger. "Yes, we can!" she hissed. "He has been getting more and more paranoid with every day that passes. He must have had these installed!"

The two guards by the door, hearing the raised voices, stepped into the room, their hands on their swords. "Your Highness, is everything alright?" one of them inquired.

Aisha took a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling with the effort to calm herself. "Everything is fine," she assured them, her voice a cool, regal command. "This is a matter between me and my father. It doesn't concern you"

"Very well, but may we remind you that you need to be ready to meet your father in about 20 minutes?" they said as they went back to their posts on the other side of the room.

"Yes" she answered. "Now come on you two. Get me ready. I'm quite...eager to meet with my father."

They both obliged. Jafar was brushing her hair and as he did so, he felt the arousal take him over. He felt like he was preparing his own trophy for collecting. Rania's pussy got wet. He could never hope for better. It was extremely hard for him not to smile...But he had to keep his cool, however difficult it was.

Meriem helped her into her dress, a masterpiece of silk and lace that hugged her curves like a second skin. As she fastened the final button, Aisha took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Jafar's in the mirror. He knew what she was thinking. He felt a strange twinge of pity for her, but it was quickly overridden by his own desire. He wanted her, and he was going to have her.

They exited the chamber, the guards trailing behind them like shadows. The walk to the dining room felt like an eternity, Jafar's mind racing with anticipation. He had to play this perfectly.

The small private dining room was bathed in the soft glow of the early morning sun. It communicated directly with the gardens outside. It was extremely cozy and relaxing, aside from Aisha's burning fury. The smell of exotic spices and freshly baked bread filled the air, making Jafar's stomach growl in Rania's body.

As they approached the dining hall, the faint sound of music grew louder. Jafar's heart skipped a beat as he recognized Fatima's seductive dance tune. He could almost see the sway of her hips in his mind's eye.

Jafar thought it would be imprudent to try to sneak into Aisha's room that same night, so he decided that tonight, he would celebrate his victory over the sultan and his inquisitors by taking Fatima. If she was as quiet as she claimed, he shouldn't have any problems.

They reached the dining hall and Fatima was already dancing. Her dance grew more seductive as she caught sight of Jafar, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The sultan watched her with a lustful gaze that was as disturbing as it was predictable.

With a quick telepathic thought, Jafar reached out to Fatima, his voice a dark whisper in her mind. "Fatima, my dear," he said, "I have successfully made our lovely Aisha aware of the peepholes without raising suspicion. The stage is set for our grand finale."

Fatima's eyes met his across the room, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she danced for the sultan. She was a mistress of subtlety, her movements fluid and mesmerizing. Her thoughts echoed back to him, filled with excitement. "Master, your cunning knows no bounds. Tonight, we shall celebrate your victory with a dance of our own."

At this point, Rania's pussy was getting so wet that Jafar began to worry the juices would be visible through her clothes.

The sultan was already seated at the grand table, his bearded face stern and unreadable. Aisha took her seat gracefully, her eyes flashing with anger and defiance. Jafar, still in Rania's body, took a position behind the sultan's chair, while Meriem took her place beside Aisha.

Jafar felt his heart race as he served the sultan a steaming plate of eggs and spiced meats. His hand trembled slightly as he placed the silver dish before the man he despised. He could feel the weight of the sultan's gaze on him.

"Father," Aisha says "You remember you had told me I would be able to choose who I would marry, right?"

Al-Rahman, the sultan, looked up from his plate with an annoyed expression, his eyes meeting hers. "Yes, I do," he says gruffly.

Aisha smiled sweetly, playing the part of the obedient daughter. "Well, I've had the chance to speak with all of my suitors at the ball, and I've made my decision."

Al-Rahman's eyes narrowed, his grip on his spoon tightening. "And who might that be, my dear?"

Aisha's smile widened, a hint of triumph glinting in her eyes. "Vizier Jafar. The only man I've truly connected with at the ball."

Jafar's heart nearly stopped. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for. The moment where the sultan had to accept his fate. But he kept his cool, still pretending to be just another maid in the background.

The fairest in the land had chosen him, a testament to the fact that he never needed his mind control kiss to get what he wanted out of women. It just took a bit longer without it…a bit!

But the sultan's reaction was not what Jafar had expected. He took a moment, his eyes lingering on his daughter's beautiful face before looking away, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. "I will consider it," he said, his voice deceptively calm.

The words hit Aisha like a slap. The fury that had been simmering within her since the revelation of the peepholes boiled over. She clenched her fists in her lap, her knuckles turning white with the effort of holding back her rage.

"No father! You have given me your word and as sultan, you are bound by it!!!"

"My sweet little child" she hated it when he called her that. She had been an adult for nearly a decade, now. "You need to see him more than that before deciding you want to spend your life with him. I've observed you at the ball and even though I don't doubt your exchange with him was exhilarating, it was rather brief. That's not remotely close to enough to decide to marry him."

"Alright, then. Summon him to the palace. Tell him Princess Aisha wants to spend more time with him. That way, I'll get to know him and once I know him well enough, I'll marry him."

"But dear, you're asking me to remove a provincial governor for weeks or even months at a time. Vizier Jafar has a province to run. Those people count on him."

"Excuses...Excuses all the time!!!" Aisha's voice was getting really aggressive."Just say it! Admit it! You don't want me to marry. You want me to remain your innocent little daughter and to belong only to you and no one else. Do you never think about what I want?"

"Aisha..."

"You said the people of Jabit province count on Jafar, well indeed, yes. The people count on their governors, but both them AND their governors count on YOU, their sultan, to ensure a line of succession!"

"Aisha, stop this at once!"

"No, I will not! Do you ever leave the palace, father? Or at least, do you listen to the people that DO leave it? The people are anxious and angry. They hate you for having made their lives worse by banning magic and they're convinced a civil war is coming because you can't or won't choose someone to take your place after you've passed. The worst part is that most people throw the blame on me. They call me an old maid who doesn't want to get married, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I want to get married because I think Jafar would make both a great husband and a great sultan. I do it both for myself and the sultanate, but you father, are willing to disregard all that because you want to keep me around you to fill the void left by Mother!!!"

Aisha was incredible and more important than that, she was right. Al-Rahman was unfit to be sultan. His reign had been a catastrophe from beginning to end and if he couldn't accept that his daughter had to get married, he would leave the biggest succession crisis in generations as a final insult to his people after he passed.

The sultan's eyes flashed with anger, his bearded jaw clenching. "How dare you speak to me like that!" he bellowed. His fist slammed down on the table, rattling the plates and silverware. "I am your father, and I will decide what is best for you and this sultanate!"

But Aisha's fury was unyielding. She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto her father's. "Is that what this is about? Spying on me, controlling me, keeping me from a life of my own? Is it because you're afraid to let go?"

Her accusation hung heavy in the air, the sultan's face flushing with rage. "How dare you question my motives!" he roared. But his voice trembled with an emotion that Jafar recognized as fear. Fear of losing his grip on power, fear of change.

Meriem looked at Aisha with a mix of admiration and fear. She had never seen the princess stand up to her father like this. But she knew the truth. She had seen the way the sultan had been watching his daughter, his eyes lingering on her in ways that made her skin crawl.

Fatima and the musicians had stopped performing long ago. Jafar and Meriem had stopped serving dishes. Everyone was just listening to the argument.

"I've seen the holes in my room! How long have they been there? If you refuse to answer, I'll tell everyone about them and I mean EVERYONE!!!"

The sultan took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "Ten years," he finally admitted, his voice thick with regret. "But Aisha, it was only to protect you. I had to ensure your safety, especially after your mother..."

"After she died of the plague? Sure, you wouldn't want to have the plague sneaking up on me in my room, now would you? Where's the logic in that? The worst part about that is that we could have saved her if we had magical healers, but no! Magic, heresy, bad!!! I hate you! I've always hated you since!"

"Aisha, your mother did not die of the plague. That was a lie. She was murdered by a pro-magic activist who managed to get himself hired as a palace guard"

The room went silent as the sultan's revelation hung in the air like a dark cloud. Aisha's eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. Her hands flew to her mouth, muffling a shocked gasp.

"F-father, why?" she stuttered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Why would you keep that from me?"

"Because you were 16"

"And you think the lie you told me was better? At least, I wouldn't have hated you nearly as much if you had told me the truth. But actually, now that I think about it, it doesn't really change anything. Mother died because of your stupid policies"

"How dare you? Are you saying this...this TERRORIST was justified in taking your mother's life?"

"No, I'm not! I'm just saying that if you hadn't been as jealous with magic as you are with me, none of that would have happened."

"What do you mean I am jealous with magic?"

"Oh father, you think I am naïve enough to believe your reasons for banning magic are purely virtuous? Before she died, Mother told me how you studied magic in your youth only to discover that you were incapable of it. Magic is not gifted to everyone, after all. Judging by how you are being so jealous with me, your only daughter, I can confidently say that, as sultan, you couldn't bear the fact that others had powers you never could have."

Al-Rahman felt as though he had been slapped. His hand trembled slightly, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table. He looked at Aisha with a mix of shock and horror, his mind racing to come up with a suitable response. But the words eluded him. He knew that Aisha was right, but he was gonna argue anyway if only to save face. Finally, he said:

"You sweet summer child, you think magic is virtuous? Let's talk about snake magic. Sure in the beginning, it was only used by desert tribes to DETECT the presence of nearby snakes to minimize the risks of getting bit, then someone discovered you could also CONTROL the snakes. Again, for the desert tribes, that meant an easier time hunting, but in the cities, it was mainly used against...other people. There were assassins who made a career out of assassinating people from afar using snakes. There was even one time where tax collectors stopped at a small village for some water and then an extremely powerful snake wizard attacked them, controlling hundreds of snakes at the same time. Both the tax collectors and the villagers had to flee, leaving the taxed gold to the wizard and his band of thugs. And don't even get me started on flesh magic."

Jafar had heard of this powerful wizard. The guards had had a tough time with him, but eventually, they managed to lure him into an ambush and to kill him with a poisonous arrow, an ironic way to die for someone who used venomous snakes to commit his crimes. Controlling that many snakes at the same time was an extremely rare feat even at the time magic was legal. Jafar was probably the only wizard alive still capable of such a thing.

"Yes, but there are more benefits than bad points. Think of the flying carpets. You can't deny the economy has receded badly because of their ban. Our trade routes would benefit greatly from their return. Before you came to power, uncle Akim even suggested that we start establishing squads of people in flying carpets that would fly over the desert as rescue operatives to help anyone who was in a bad position (which happens a lot in the desert). I can't put into words how good of an idea this was, and neither could you, at the time, but then you decided magic was no longer good."

Her father's face grew darker, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Do not mention his name!" he bellowed, slamming his fist on the table "Are you seriously implying my brother was justified in rebelling against me?"

Aisha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "No, I'm not justifying anyone's actions. All I'm saying is that your fear of magic is blinding you to its potential. And if you don't change your policies, you're going to push more people to do the same thing he did!"

"Like who? Jafar? You?"

"No father, Jafar and I would never dare to plot against you"

"Speak for yourself" Jafar thought to himself.

"...but we have plans. Plans to make things right and to return the sultanate to its former glory and no, we're not talking about making flesh magic legal. Magic will be regulated. There will be limitations on what people can and cannot do with it. So here's what I want:

1) I want to marry Jafar or at the very least, see him more often until I can make a decision.

2) I want all the peepholes in my room to be sealed shut BY TONIGHT! I never EVER want to be spied on again!"

Jafar’s heart stopped. She had told the sultan about his pro-magic views. Why didn’t she tell him he was the Faceless One and was standing right next to him in Rania’s body while she was at it?

"Very well" he said "And in return, I only ask for one thing..."

"What is it father?"

"I want you to stop hating me"

The words hit Aisha like a ton of bricks. Both of them started crying, the tension of the past ten years of lies and misunderstandings suddenly coming to a head. Jafar, in Rania's body, had to look away to avoid being caught in the moment of raw emotion. He surprised himself by being happy for them, not just because it played right into his hands, but because it was refreshing to see Al-Rahman do the right thing for once and since he was genuinely in love with Aisha, seeing her happy was always a positive, but more importantly, he was relieved that the sultan took it so well. He was expecting his public persona to be compromised and that he was gonna have to live full-time as the Faceless One on the run. That could still happen though. Maybe the sultan was just pretending to be comprehensive...

"You, my dear daughter. As sultan, everyone thinks I am the one who has it all and everyone envies, yet it's the opposite. You were right. You were right about everything. I am a sad, jealous old man who has lost everything. My reign has been a complete failure and I no longer have time to make up for it. You and Jafar will build a better future for our empire, I know it, even if it's not what I had envisioned. And that future will come sooner than later. Every day, I feel my strength weakening. It's only a matter of time before **** takes me, but until then, my dear, I need you. I need your love."

"And you will have it!"

Aisha's voice was filled with relief and love as she stood up and rushed towards her father, embracing him tightly. Al-Rahman, caught off guard, wrapped his arms around her, and they held each other close as tears fell from their eyes. It was a moment of raw emotion, a father and daughter reconciling after years of pain and misunderstanding.

Jafar, watching from Rania's body, couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in his cold heart. He had orchestrated so much of this, yet here he was, witnessing a genuine moment of connection that he hadn't anticipated. His gaze flicked over to Fatima, her eyes wide and hopeful as she watched the scene unfold.

Her smile was like the sun breaking through a stormy sky, a beacon of light in a room that had been dark with anger and pain. She looked beautiful in her relief, her eyes shining with an emotion that was almost palpable. Yes, the old man could have his last moments of happiness. Why not?

The sultan looked at Jafar, his eyes still red from crying. "Another drink would be most welcome, Rania," he said, his voice thick with emotion as Jafar began serving him, his movements just as delicate as Rania’s would be.

Jafar’s eyes then began tearing up. He found it really strange that he was crying for the man he hated, but hey, it's not like anyone would KNOW it was him inside Rania crying...except for Meriem and Fatima, dammit!!!

"Not a word of this to anyone" he thought to them, "Not even the other women under my control. Understood!?!"

"Alright, master. We won’t tell anyone you’re a VERY sensitive man!" they thought back.

"Shut up!"

"I still fear the Faceless One might take you, though!" the sultan continued.

"But father, the guards will still be stationed in front of my door. The Faceless One will not be able to fool them if he is even hiding among the maids that is. The guards are not even sure they actually saw someone on that night or if it was just the shadows playing tricks on them…"

"...and the screams?"

"Those don’t even mean anything. Maybe two of my maids just had lesbian sex with each other, or maybe one of them invited a guard or a male servant in… Sure, the act might have been a bit immoral, because they were probably not married, but that doesn’t make it a threat to my safety or your power by any means. The idea that the Faceless One was behind them is the worst case scenario and it’s highly unlikely. You are aware of this fact, right?"

He took a pause before nodding. "Yes…I am…"

Jafar thought the operation would take many days, even weeks, yet here he was, having cleared the way to Aisha in less than a day. He could not believe the luck he had and he would soon savor the fruits of his luck...