Zainab had never seen the world, but she could feel its cruelty with every breath she took. She was born blind into a family that valued beauty above all else. Her two sisters were admired for their captivating eyes and elegant figures, while Zainab was treated as a burden, a shameful secret kept behind closed doors. Her mother died when she was only five, and from then on, her father changed. He became bitter, resentful, and cruel, especially toward her. He never called her by her name; he called her “that thing.” He didn’t want her at the table during family meals or anywhere near when visitors arrived. He believed she was cursed, and when Zainab turned 21, she made a decision that would destroy what was left of her already broken heart.
One morning, her father entered her small room where Zainab was sitting quietly, touching with her fingers the braille pages of an old, worn book, and placed a folded piece of cloth on her lap.
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said flatly. Zainab froze. The words made no sense. Get married? To whom?
“He’s a beggar from the mosque,” her father continued. “You’re blind, he’s poor. A good match for you.” She felt as if the blood had drained from her face. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She had no choice. Her father never gave her any.
The next day, she was married in a small, hurried ceremony. Of course, she never saw his face, and no one dared describe it to her. Her father pushed her toward the man and told her to take his arm. She obeyed like a ghost in her own body. Everyone laughed behind her hands, murmuring, “The blind girl and the beggar.” After the ceremony, her father gave her a small bag with some clothes and pushed her back toward the man.
“Now it’s your problem,” he said, and walked away without looking back.
The beggar, whose name was Yusha, silently led her along the path. He didn’t say anything for a long time. They came to a small, dilapidated hut on the edge of the village. It smelled of damp earth and smoke.
“It’s not much,” Yusha said gently. “But you’ll be safe here.” She sat down on the old mat inside, holding back her tears. This was her life now. A blind girl married to a beggar in a shack made of mud and hope.
But something strange happened that first night.
Yusha prepared tea with gentle hands. She gave her her own coat and slept by the door, like a guard dog protecting its queen. She spoke to her as if she truly cared: she asked her what stories she liked, what dreams she had, what foods made her smile. No one had ever asked her anything like that before.
The days turned into weeks. Yusha accompanied her to the river every morning, describing the sun, the birds, the trees with such poetry that Zainab began to feel she could see them through his words. He sang to her while she washed clothes and told her stories of stars and faraway lands at night. She laughed for the first time in years. Her heart began to open. And in that strange little hut, something unexpected happened: Zainab fell in love.
One afternoon, as she reached out to him, she asked, “Were you always a beggar?” He hesitated. Then he said softly, “I wasn’t always like this.” But he never said anything more. And Zainab didn’t press the matter.
Until one day.
She went to the market alone to buy vegetables. Yusha had given her careful directions, and she memorized every step. But halfway there, someone grabbed her arm violently.
“Blind rat!” a voice spat. It was her sister. Aminah. “Are you still alive? Are you still playing at being a beggar’s wife?” Zainab felt tears welling up, but she stood tall.
“I am happy,” she said.
Aminah laughed cruelly. “You don’t even know what he looks like. He’s trash. Just like you.”
And then he whispered something that broke her heart.
“He is not a beggar. Zainab, you have been lied to.”
Zainab stumbled home, confused. She waited until nightfall, and when Yusha returned, she asked her again, but this time firmly. “Tell me the truth. Who are you really?”
And that’s when he knelt in front of her, took her hands, and said, “You should never have known yet. But I can’t lie to you anymore.”
His heart was beating strongly.
He took a deep breath.
“I am not a beggar. I am the son of the Emir.”
Zainab’s world began to spin as she processed Yusha’s words. “I am the Emir’s son.” She tried to control her breathing, to understand what she had just heard. Her mind replayed every moment they had shared, his kindness, his quiet strength, his stories that felt too vivid for a mere beggar, and now she understood why. He had never been a beggar. Her father had married her off not to a beggar, but to royalty disguised in rags.
She withdrew her hands from his, stepped back, and asked him, her voice trembling, “Why? Why did you let me believe you were a beggar?”
Yusha stood up, her voice calm but thick with emotion. “Because I wanted someone who would see me, not my wealth, not my title, just me. Someone pure. Someone whose love couldn’t be bought or forced. You were everything I asked for, Zainab.”
She sat down, her legs too weak to support her. Her heart wrestled with anger and love. Why hadn’t she told him? Why had she let him believe she was discarded like trash? Yusha knelt beside her again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I came to the village in disguise because I was tired of suitors who loved the throne but not the man. I heard about a blind girl rejected by her father. I watched you from afar for weeks before proposing through your father, disguised as a beggar. I knew you would accept because you wanted to be rid of me.”
Tears streamed down Zainab’s cheeks. The pain of her father’s rejection mingled with disbelief that someone could have gone so far only to find a heart like his. She didn’t know what to say, so she simply asked, “And now? What happens now?”
Yusha gently took her hand. “Now you’re coming with me, to my world, to the palace.”
Her heart leapt. “But I’m blind. How can I be a princess?”
He smiled. “You already are, my princess.”
That night she barely slept. Her thoughts raced: her father’s cruelty, Yusha’s love, and the terrifyingly unknown future. In the morning, a royal carriage pulled up in front of the hut. Guards dressed in black and gold bowed to Yusha and Zainab as they stepped out. Zainab held Yusha’s arm tightly as the carriage began to move toward the palace.
When they arrived, the crowd was already gathered. They were surprised by the return of the lost prince, but even more surprised to see him with a blind girl. Yusha’s mother, the Queen, stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she studied Zainab. But Zainab bowed respectfully. Yusha stood by her side and declared, “This is my wife, the woman I chose, the woman who saw my soul when no one else could.”
The Queen remained silent for a moment, then stepped forward and embraced Zainab. “So, she is my daughter,” she said. Zainab nearly fainted with relief. Yusha squeezed her hand and whispered, “I told you, you’re safe.”
That night, as they settled into their room in the palace, Zainab stood by the window, listening to the sounds of the royal compound. Her entire life had changed in a single day. She was no longer “that thing” locked away in a dark room. She was a wife, a princess, a woman who had been loved not for her body or her beauty, but for her soul. And though in that moment of peace she felt relief, something dark still lingered in her heart: the shadow of her father’s hatred. She knew the world would not accept her easily, that the court would whisper and mock her blindness, and that enemies would emerge from within the palace walls. Yet, for the first time, she did not feel small. She felt powerful.
The next morning, she was summoned to court, where nobles and leaders had gathered. Some sneered when she entered with Yusha, but she held her head high. Then came the unexpected turn. Yusha stood before them and declared, “I will not be crowned until my wife is accepted and honored in this palace. And if she is not, then I will leave with her.”
Murmurs filled the room. Zainab felt her heart pound as she gazed at him. He had already given everything for her. “Would you give up the throne for me?” she whispered.
He looked at her with fierce passion in his eyes. “I did it once. I’d do it again.”
The Queen stood up. “So let it be known, from this day forward, Zainab is not only your wife. She is Princess Zainab of the Royal House. Anyone who disrespects her, disrespects the Crown.”
And with those words, the room fell silent. Zainab’s heart pounded, but no longer with fear, but with strength. She knew her life would change, but now it would happen on her own terms. She would no longer be a shadow, but a woman who had found her place in the world. And best of all, for the first time, she didn’t have to be seen for her beauty. Only for the love she held in her heart.
News of Zainab’s acceptance as a princess at the royal court spread quickly throughout the kingdom. The nobles, initially puzzled by the new princess’s blindness, began to see beyond her disability. What Zainab had demonstrated—her dignity, her strength, and above all, her unconditional love for Yusha—led many of her former doubters to begin respecting her.
But life in the palace wouldn’t be easy. Although Zainab had found her place alongside Yusha, the challenges were many. The royal court was a place rife with intrigue, people with their own agendas, and those who saw Zainab as a threat to tradition. Whispers in the palace corridors were unavoidable, and the eyes that watched her weren’t always friendly. However, Zainab had learned to see the world differently. Although she couldn’t see with her eyes, she could perceive intentions through tone of voice, attitudes, and silences.
One afternoon, as she strolled through the palace gardens with Yusha by her side, Zainab reflected on all she had experienced. Despite her efforts to accept her, there was always something that unsettled her, a feeling of not being entirely welcome. It wasn’t her blindness, but something deeper, something connected to her past and the life she had been forced to leave behind.
“Sometimes I feel like they haven’t fully accepted me yet,” she confessed to Yusha, leaning on his arm. He looked at her with tenderness and understanding.
—I know, Zainab. And although I can’t change what others think, I want you to know that for me, you will always be enough. You’re not just my wife, you’re the woman I love with all my heart.
Zainab stopped and looked at him. Although she couldn’t see his face, his voice was all she needed to hear. The calmness in his words made her feel safe, even though the echo of rejection still lingered in her heart.
“I know it won’t be easy,” Zainab continued. “My father never accepted who I am. And now, in this palace, I’m afraid of being seen only for my blindness, for my past. Sometimes I don’t know if I deserve all this.”
Yusha leaned towards her, carefully lifting her face and making sure her tone was gentle but firm.
—Zainab, you deserve everything you have. And so much more. It’s not your blindness that defines you, nor your history. What defines you is your soul, your kindness, your courage. And for that reason, you are the princess, not only of this palace, but of my heart. It doesn’t matter what others say. You are not an accessory, nor a curiosity. You are everything to me.
With those words, Zainab felt a warmth spread through her. Yusha not only accepted her, she loved her for who she truly was, regardless of her appearance, her blindness, or her past. Her love was a force that filled her with confidence.
At that moment, Zainab decided she would not allow the court’s prejudices or her father’s memories to define her. She would not be just the prince’s wife or the blind princess. She would be so much more. She would be the woman who would transform the palace from within, a woman who would demonstrate that true power comes from authenticity, from being oneself regardless of the obstacles.
Thus, Zainab began to take an active role at court. She used her voice, her wisdom, and her sensitivity to begin changing the nobles’ perceptions. Not with harsh words, but with actions. During court meetings, she dedicated herself to listening to each noble, understanding their concerns, and seeking solutions that would benefit everyone. Little by little, she began to earn the people’s respect, not for her title, but for her heart and her ability to unite them.
At the same time, Yusha was there to support her every step of the way. Although he was the prince, he wasn’t afraid to share the spotlight with Zainab, knowing that his true role was to accompany her on her journey, to respect her, and to love her for who she was.
As time passed, Zainab began to feel stronger, more confident. She knew that the acceptance she sought didn’t come from others, but from within herself. And so, as the years went by, Zainab ceased to be merely the princess of a palace. She became the queen of her own destiny, transforming not only the court, but the lives of all those around her.
The palace was filled with light, not because of wealth or the power of the crown, but because of Zainab’s authenticity. She had found what she was looking for: a place in the world where she would not be seen for what she lacked, but for what she had to offer.
Yusha, by her side, was always her unwavering support. Together, they created a kingdom where love, acceptance, and true inner strength prevailed above all else. Because, in the end, Zainab had learned that love isn’t based on appearances, but on the deep connection between hearts.
END.