The morning passed in a quiet, almost choreographed ballet.
Nahia obeyed without a word, with discreet grace and gestures marked by a disarming modesty. Carrying documents, preparing trays of tea, adjusting the cushions in private salons... she blended into the background like a docile shadow.
Never a word too loud.
Never a gaze too direct.
Always that immaculate veil over her face, her eyes lowered, as if afraid to meet the light.
In his office, Sheikh Assad received the kingdom's most powerful men: ministers, clan leaders, foreign emissaries. Nahia and Lina, the two young attendants assigned to that wing of the palace, remained at the ready, always prepared to respond at the slightest call.
But that morning, Lina had only one goal: to disturb the apparent calm.
More than once, she deliberately elbowed Nahia in the narrow corridors, pretending clumsiness.
But Nahia never flinched.
As if nothing could reach her.
As if she were just a whisper in the stone walls of the palace.
---
As she crossed the inner courtyard, a cry caught Nahia's attention.
A young boy—likely the son of a visiting dignitary—had just tripped and fallen flat on the stone floor.
Without hesitation, Nahia stepped forward.
Her slender hands, nearly transparent in the morning light, helped the boy to his feet. She gently dusted the dirt from his gold-embroidered garments. Then, in a barely audible voice, she whispered a few words to soothe his tears.
The boy nodded shyly and ran back to his nurse.
Nahia resumed her path as if nothing had happened, adjusting her veil and lowering her gaze once more.
What she didn't know was that a pair of eyes had been watching her from above.
Assad.
Standing behind the tall window of his office, the Sheikh had seen everything.
He said nothing.
But his gaze lingered on the discreet silhouette of the young servant.
He hadn't heard her words.
But he had seen that gentle hand, that humble gesture, that instinctive respect.
A faint crease formed on his brow.
How can a mere servant radiate such dignity?
The question struck him, and he couldn't ignore it.
He tried to push it aside. He had decisions to make, a banquet to organize.
And yet...
When he returned to his documents, the image of that veiled girl bent over the child refused to leave his thoughts.
---
In the heavy silence of the Sheikh's wing, Nahia busied herself with the precision of an automaton.
Every movement was measured, exact. Her veil concealed her features, but her constantly lowered gaze expressed a silent determination.
Lina, standing in the background, watched with growing frustration.
Why did Nahia always seem to attract invisible attention?
Why, though she worked just as hard, did she never receive the same quiet esteem?
It was as if Nahia's silence screamed louder than her own voice.
And that thought gnawed at her.
When Assad rose to head to the council chamber, Lina's heart raced. This was her moment.
She stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Your Highness, I need to speak with you," she said, her voice soft but firm.
The Sheikh paused. He looked at her, unreadable.
"Speak," he replied.
Lina straightened a bit, carefully wrapping her words in feigned concern.
"It's about Nahia. I'm... worried. No one knows where she comes from. She never speaks, always hides her face. Isn't that... unsettling? What if she's a threat—to you, to the palace?"
Silence.
Assad stood still for a moment. Then, in a sharp tone:
"Silence is not a weakness."
He paused.
"What matters here is loyalty. Not origins."
And without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her frozen in her own boldness.
Lina felt her cheeks burn. Her heart pounded in her chest.
She had tried... and failed.
But she would not give up.
---
In the now-empty office, Lina stared at the door through which Assad had disappeared.
Her gaze was dark, heavy with resentment.
Behind her, Nahia silently arranged the last documents, untouched by the tension in the room.
"You think you're better than us?" Lina muttered acidly.
Nahia froze, a document gripped between her fingers. But she said nothing.
"You think your silence will protect you?" Lina continued, voice lower still.
"We'll find out what you're hiding under that veil..."
Still no reaction.
Just a slow movement: Nahia placed the documents on the desk and stepped back with mute grace, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Then, a messenger burst into the room:
"The Sheikh wants the banquet hall prepared for tonight!"
Lina nodded, her smile tight.
"Of course."
But in her eyes burned a promise.
She had failed today.
But next time…
Nahia wouldn't get off so easily.