The weeks pass and the time for marriage arrives.

It was supposed to be a happy day for everyone. Jafar and Aisha had spent the last three weeks courting each other and it only had comforted them in their decision to get married. Jafar also spent some time studying the new magic spell Natasha had translated for him and he had finally managed to master it two days ago, before promptly flexing it to Aisha and today, it would be the day they finally got married.

The wedding was set in the grandest hall of the Jafar's palace, the walls adorned with intricate tapestries and gleaming with gold. The air was thick with the scent of incense and exotic flowers, the sound of laughter and music filling the space as guests mingled in anticipation of the main event. The stage was set with a luxurious carpet, a backdrop of silk and velvet, and a golden throne for the soon-to-be bride and groom.

Jafar arrived, dressed in a flowing white kandura that accentuated his lean, powerful frame. His head was turbaned, a smug smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the scene. The guests, a mix of royalty and nobility from across the land, were dressed in their finest attire, their jewels sparkling under the soft light of a thousand candles. He could feel the power and excitement in the air, the whispers of his name, and the envy of the men who knew what was about to happen.

He made his way through the throng of people, his steps confident and purposeful. The imam, a stern-looking man with a long beard and piercing eyes, stood at the altar, his expression unreadable. Jafar positioned himself in front of him and waited for Aisha to arrive.

And then, a hush fell over the room as Aisha appeared at the entrance. She was a vision in a shimmering gold and red dress that clung to her curves like a second skin, her dark hair cascading down her back in a river of black silk. Her eyes were lined with kohl, and her lips painted a deep crimson that matched the color of the roses she clutched in her hands. The dress was so tight it seemed to leave nothing to the imagination, and yet, it was the very picture of modesty with its high neckline and long sleeves.

Her eyes searched for Jafar's, and when they met, she felt a jolt of electricity run through her body. They had spent the last few days in a frenzy of passion, and she was eager to be joined to him in the eyes of the law and God. As she made her way down the aisle, her heart raced, and her breath grew shallow. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and she could feel the heat between her legs. She knew what awaited her after the ceremony, and the thought of it made her want to run to him, to feel him inside her once more.

When she reached the altar, Aisha's hand trembled slightly as Jafar took it in his. The imam began to recite the marriage contract. His voice was low and soothing, a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions roiling within them. Aisha's gaze never left Jafar's, and she felt the intensity of his stare as he listened to the words that would bind them together forever.

The imam's recitation came to an end, and he looked up at the couple expectantly. "Do you, Aisha, daughter of Sultan Al-Rahman, accept Jafar as your lawfully wedded husband, to obey him in all things, to honor him, and to share your life with him in accordance with the laws of God and the traditions of your land?"

Aisha looked into Jafar's eyes, her own filled with a fiery passion and unshakable resolve. "I do," she murmured, her voice steady and clear, the words resonating through the hushed hall like a declaration of war.

Jafar took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settling upon him. The imam turned to face him, his expression unwavering. "And do you, Jafar, son of Amir, accept Aisha, daughter of Sultan Al-Rahman, as your lawfully wedded wife, to cherish her, to protect her, and to be faithful to her in accordance with the laws of God and the traditions of your land?"

With a nod, Jafar replied, "I do." The words were almost a growl, a promise that resonated in the very air around them. He knew he would never truly be faithful in the traditional sense, but in his heart, Aisha would always be his queen.

The imam then instructed them to kiss, sealing their union with a touch of their lips that would be remembered for all eternity. Jafar leaned in, his eyes closed, and claimed Aisha's mouth in a fiery kiss that sent shockwaves through her body. Her knees buckled slightly, and she had to grip his shoulders to keep herself upright. His hands moved to cradle her face as his tongue sought entry, and she gave it willingly, eager to taste him, to merge with him in this sacred act.

As they broke apart, the applause grew louder, filling the grand hall like a crescendo of a symphony. The guests clapped their hands, shouting their congratulations, their faces alight with joy and envy. The sound was deafening, a cacophony of love and adoration that seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace. It was as if the heavens themselves were applauding their union.

The feast began in earnest, a smorgasbord of delights that could rival the bounty of a thousand sultans. There were dishes from every corner of the world, each more exotic and tantalizing than the last. The air was alive with the smells of roasting meats, spiced stews, and sweet pastries that made mouths water and stomachs rumble. The tables groaned under the weight of gold and silver plates, heaped with food that gleamed like jewels in the candlelight.

Fatima was a vision of grace as she joined the dancers of Jafar's palace. Her lithe form moved in perfect harmony with the rhythmic beating of the drums and the haunting melodies played on the oud and the ney. Her hips swayed and her arms fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, captivating all who watched. Her eyes had a spark of happiness that reflected the general mood of the place.

The wedding feast was a grand affair, with guests lining up to offer their congratulations to the newlyweds and the sultan. Governors from the three neighboring provinces had come to pay their respects, their faces a mix of admiration and wariness as they approached the royal family. Jafar felt a thrill of power as he greeted them. Days before, these men were his equals in the social hierarchy, but now, they were his subordinates. Each one, in their own way, acknowledged the change in dynamics that his marriage to Aisha had brought about. They knew that this union would be pivotal in shaping the future of the empire, and they were eager to pledge their allegiance to the future sultan and his queen.