Zainab had never seen the world, but she felt 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 beautiful eyes and slender figures, while Zainab was considered a burden – a shameful secret hidden behind closed doors.
Her mother died when she was just five, and since then, her father had changed. He had become bitter, spiteful, and fiercely shy — to say the least. He didn’t call her by her name; he called her “that thing.” He didn’t want to put her on the table during family meals or around when guests came over. I thought I was cursed. And when Zainab turned 21, she made a decision to destroy what little was left of her broken heart.
One morning, her father entered his small room where Zainab sat quietly, running his fingers over the Braille pages of an old book. He lowered a folded piece of cloth into her lap. “You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said with a smile. Zainab froze. The words made no sense. Married? To whom?
“She’s a beggar in the church,” her father continued. “You’re blind. She’s poor. A good match for you.” She felt as if blood had drained from her face. She wanted to scream but no sound came out. I had no choice. Her father had given her no choice.
The next day, she was married in a small, hurried ceremony. Of course, no one had really seen her face — and no one had dared to describe it to her. Her father pushed her closer to the man and told her to hold his arm. She followed like a ghost trapped in her own body. The people laughed and whispered, “The blind woman and the beggar.”
After the ceremony, her father handed her a small bag with some clothes and pushed her towards the man again. “Now this is your problem,” he said – and left without looking back.
The beggar, whose name was Yusha, silently led her down the road. He had not spoken for a long time. They arrived at a small, dilapidated hut on the edge of the village. It smelled of damp earth and smoke. “Not much,” Yusha said softly. “But you are safe here.” She sat on an old mat inside, fighting back tears. This was her life now—a blind girl married to a beggar, in a hut made of mud and hope.
But something strange happened that very first night. Yusha prepared tea for her with gentle hands. He gave her his own serape and slept by the door, like a watchdog guarding its queen. He talked to her as if he really cared — asking her what stories she liked, what her dreams were, what foods made her smile. No one had ever asked her those things. Days turned into weeks. Yusha took her to the stream every morning, describing the sun, the birds, the trees—with such poetry that Zainab began to feel as if she could see them through his words. He sang to her as she washed, and at night he told her stories about the stars and distant lands. She laughed for the first time in years. Her heart began to open. And in that strange little hut… An unexpected event happened: Zainab fell in love.
One afternoon, as he held out his hand, he asked, “Have you always been a beggar?” She hesitated. Then he said calmly, “I haven’t always been like this.” But he didn’t say anything more, and Zainab didn’t insist.
Until one day.
something dark still lingered in his heart—the shadow of his father’s hatred. He knew that the world would not accept him easily, that the court would whisper and scorn his blindness, and that enemies would appear within the palace walls. For the first time, he did not feel small. He felt strong.
The next morning, he was summoned to court, where the nobles and leaders had gathered. Some scoffed when they saw him enter with Yusha, but he held his head high. Then came the unexpected twist. Yusha stood before them and said, “I will not be crowned until my husband is received and honored in this palace. And if not, I will accompany him.” The room was filled with sighs and whispers. Zainab felt her heart pound as she looked at him. She had given everything for him. “Will you give me the throne?” she whispered. She looked at him with intense desire in her eyes. “I have done it once. I will do it again.” The matriarch stood up. “So let it be known – from this day forward, Zainab is not just his wife. She is Princess Zainab of the Royal House. Whoever disrespects her, disrespects the crown.”
With those words, the room fell silent. Zainab’s heart pounded – no longer out of fear, but out of strength. She knew her life would change, but now, she would do it on her own terms. She was no longer a shadow – but a woman who had found her place in the world. And best of all, for the first time, she did not need to be seen for her beauty – only for the love in her heart.
News of Zainab’s acceptance as princess quickly spread throughout the kingdom. The nobles, who had at first been confused by the new princess’s blindness, began to see her disability. What Zainab demonstrated – through her dignity, her strength, and most of all, her unconditional love for Yusha – made many who had previously doubted her begin to respect her. But life in the palace would not be easy. Although Zainab found her place by Yusha’s side, the challenges were many. The royal court was a place full of intrigue, ambition, and people who saw Zainab as a threat to tradition. Whispers filled the halls of the palace, and not all eyes on her were kind. Despite this, Zainab had learned to see the world differently. Even though her eyes could not see, she could sense people’s intentions – through the tone of their voices, their body language, and the weight of their silence.
One afternoon, as she walked through the palace garden with Yusha by her side, Zainab reflected on all she had experienced. Despite the growing effort to accept her, something still gnawed at him – a feeling of not being fully welcomed. It wasn’t just his blindness – it was something deeper, tied to his past and the life he had been forced to leave behind. “Sometimes I feel like I haven’t really been accepted,” he confessed to Yusha, who was leaning on his arm. He looked at her with understanding and compassion. “I know, Zainab. And while I can’t change what others think, I need you to know this: For me, you will always be enough. You are not just my wife – you are the woman I have loved with all my heart.” Zainab stopped and turned to him. Although I couldn’t see her face, all she needed was her voice.
The silence of his words made her feel safe, though the echo of his rejection still lingered in her heart.
“I know it won’t be easy,” she continued. “My father never accepted me for who I am. And now, here in this palace, I’m afraid they might only see me because of my blindness… because of my past. Sometimes, I don’t know if I deserve all of this.” Yusha leaned over, gently lifting her chin, her voice soft but firm… “Zainab, you deserve everything you have – and so much more,” Yusha said. “It’s not your blindness that defines you, or your past. It’s your soul, your kindness, your courage that defines you.
That’s why you’re a princess – not just of this palace, but of my heart. It doesn’t matter what others say. You’re not an ornament or a curiosity. You’re everything to me.” At those words, Zainab felt a warmth bloom within her. Yusha didn’t just accept her—he loved her for who she was, regardless of her appearance, her blindness, or her past. His love was a force that filled her with confidence. In that moment, Zainab decided: She would not allow the judgment of the court or the memory of her father to define her. She would not just be the wife of a prince or a blind princess. She would be more.
She would be the woman who changed the palace from within—a woman who would prove that true power comes from being authentic, from being herself in the face of every obstacle. Thus, Zainab began to become active in the royal court. She used her voice, her intellect, and her deep sensitivity to change the perceptions of the nobles—not through harsh words, but through actions. In court meetings, she tried to listen to each noble, understand their concerns, and find solutions that would benefit everyone. Gradually, she began to earn the respect of the people — not because of her title, but because of her heart and ability to bring people together.
Yusha supported her every step of the way. Although he was the prince, he was not afraid to share the limelight with Zainab. He understood that his true duty was to walk beside her, to respect her and love her for who she was. Over time, Zainab became stronger and more confident. She realized that the acceptance she sought did not come from others, but from within herself. And over the years, Zainab was no longer just a princess in a palace.
She became the queen of her own destiny, changing not only the court, but the lives of everyone around her. The palace shines brightly—not because of the wealth or power of the crown, but because of Zainab’s authenticity. She has found what she has always longed for: a place in the world where she is not seen for what she lacks, but for what she has to offer. Yusha, always by her side, is her constant and unconditional support. Together, they build a kingdom where love, acceptance, and inner strength triumph above all else. Because in the end, Zainab learns: Love is not built on appearances – but on the deep connection between two hearts. The end
She went to the market alone to buy vegetables. Yusha gave her careful directions, and she memorized every step. But in the middle of studying, someone grabbed her arm tightly. “Blind rat!” a voice spat. It was her sister – Sofia. “Are you still alive? Is she still pretending to be the beggar’s wife?” Zainab felt tears welling up, but she stood her ground. “I’m happy,” she said. Sofia laughed cruelly. “You don’t even know what she looks like. She’s trash – just like you.” Then she whispered something that made her heart pound: “She’s not a beggar, Zainab. You lied.”
Zainab went home, confused. She waited until nightfall, and when Yusha returned, she asked him again – but this time firmly: “Tell me the truth. Who are you really?” And there he knelt before her, took her hands in his, and said, “You don’t have to know yet. But I can’t lie to you anymore.” Her heart pounded in her chest. She took a deep breath. “I’m not a beggar. I’m the son of the President of the Philippines.”
Zainab’s world began to spin as she processed his words. “I’m a Filipino.” She tried to catch her breath, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. Their minds replayed every moment they had shared — their kindness, their quiet strength, the clarity of their stories that seemed so rich for a mere beggar. Now I understood why. He hadn’t been a beggar yet. Her father had not married her to a beggar – unbeknownst to her, he had married her to nobles disguised in rags. She removed her hands, stepped back and asked – her voice trembling:
“Why? Why did you leave me a beggar?” Yusha stood, her voice calm but full of emotion: “Because I want someone to see me – not my wealth, not my title, just me. Someone pure. Someone whose love is not bought or forced. You are the only one I ask for in my prayers, Zainab.” She sat down, her legs too weak to support her. Her heart was fighting between anger and love. Why didn’t I tell her? Why did she think she was being thrown away like trash? Yusha knelt down beside her again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said. “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 who was rejected by her own father. I watched you from afar for weeks before I proposed through your father, dressed as a beggar. I knew he would accept – because he wanted to get rid of you.” Tears streamed down Zainab’s cheeks. The pain of her father’s rejection was mixed with disbelief that someone had come this far – just to find a heart like his. I didn’t know what to say. So she simply asked, “What now? What’s happening now?” Yusha held her hand gently. “Now, come with me. To my world. To the palace.” Her heart beat faster. “I’m blind, how can I be a princess?” She smiled. “You are, princess.”
That night, she could barely sleep. Their thoughts swirled – their father’s cruelty, Yusha’s love, and the terrifying uncertainty of what the future held. The next morning, a royal buggy arrived in front of the hut. Guards dressed in black and gold bowed to Yusha and Zainab as they departed. Zainab clung tightly to Yusha’s arm as the buggy began its journey toward the palace. When they arrived, a crowd had gathered. They were surprised by the return of the missing prince — but even more shocked to see him with a blind girl. Yusha’s mother, the Matriarch, approached, her eyes narrowing as she studied Zainab. But Zainab bowed respectfully. Yusha stood beside her and said, “This is my wife. The woman I chose. The woman who saw my soul when no one else could.”
The Matriarch was silent for a moment. Then she came forward and embraced Zainab. “Then she is my daughter,” she said. Zainab almost collapsed in relief. Yusha held her hand and whispered, “I told you, you’re safe.” That night, as they sat in their palace room, Zainab stood by the window, listening to the sounds of the royal courtyard. Her entire life had changed in just one day. She was no longer confined to a dark room. She was a wife, a princess, a woman loved not for her looks or beauty, but for her soul. And though that moment was filled with peace,