Zayd stepped deeper into the wonder that was Paristan. Rolling meadows stretched out before him, their vibrant flowers swaying in a gentle breeze that carried the scent of wild jasmine and honey. Sparkling rivers crisscrossed the land, reflecting the golden sunlight, and distant snow-capped peaks framed the horizon like a painting. For the first time in what felt like ages, Zayd felt the crushing weight of his curse lift—if only momentarily. The air here was alive, crisp and fragrant, filling his lungs with a sense of vitality he had almost forgotten.

But his awe was short-lived.

From above, shadows flickered, and the air crackled with an energy that seemed to vibrate in his chest. Before he could react, they descended—winged figures, their forms gliding through the sky with otherworldly precision. The fairies.

The creatures were breathtakingly handsome yet undeniably imposing. Their translucent wings glimmered like molten glass in the sunlight, casting shifting rainbows on the ground. They had the striking features of mortal men yet seemed sculpted with impossible precision—chiseled jawlines, high cheekbones, and eyes like liquid gold that seemed to see straight into his soul. Their skin was flawless, glowing with an otherworldly sheen, and their long, dark hair framed their faces with a regal grace. Dressed in a seamless blend of flowing silk robes and gleaming, intricately crafted armor, they exuded both elegance and raw strength. Each carried a spear that appeared to be forged from starlight itself, its tip faintly glowing with a quiet but dangerous energy. These beings radiated an aura of majesty and power that made them impossible to look away from.

"You dare trespass into Paristan?" one of them barked.

"I—I was brought here," Zayd stammered. But his words were cut off as another pointed a spear directly at Zayd.

"You will answer to Princess Inara," the first fairy guard said, brooking no argument. Before Zayd could protest, glowing cuffs appeared around his wrists, binding his hands in a golden light that pulsed with a rhythm that seemed to match his heartbeat.

The fairies took to the skies, carrying him swiftly toward the heart of Paristan.

Zayd was led into a palace that seemed to have been sculpted from pure light and glass. Intricate patterns of interwoven floral and geometric designs adorned the crystalline walls, their details so fine they appeared almost alive, catching and reflecting the soft, golden glow of the room. Water cascaded gently through delicate fountains, creating a harmony that echoed softly, blending with the faint sound of the palace's energy. Stained-glass windows in vibrant hues cast shimmering mosaics of color across the polished marble floors, giving the entire space an otherworldly, dreamlike beauty.

His breath hitched as he was guided into a grand hall. At its center, on a raised dais, sat Princess Inara.

She was unlike anyone Zayd had ever seen. Her beauty was magnetic, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Her almond-shaped eyes, dark and shimmering like the midnight sky, were framed by lashes that swept high with regal elegance. Her skin glowed faintly, as though lit from within, and her midnight-black hair fell in waves down her back, adorned with delicate jeweled chains. She wore an emerald-green lehenga, its golden embroidery glimmering as she shifted, the fabric catching the light like a dance of stars. Around her neck sat a necklace of emeralds and rubies, its centerpiece glowing faintly like a heartbeat.

But it was her wings that captivated him most of all. They were magnificent, translucent and shimmering, catching the light in a way that refracted a thousand colors. They extended gracefully behind her, arcing like the petals of a flower in bloom, their edges glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. She was grace, power, and beauty incarnate, a vision Zayd could hardly comprehend yet could not look away from.

"Who is this trespasser?" She asked. Her voice was soft yet commanding, lingered like a melody in the air.

The words washed over Zayd, sinking into his soul. His heart raced uncontrollably, drawn to her in a way he couldn't explain. Who was this woman? Her luminous eyes seemed to hold the universe. Every movement she made was regal grace and effortless beauty. Zayd was utterly captivated. It was as if the world had faded, leaving only her in sharp focus.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the bottle in his pocket pulsed violently, pain searing through him. The Djinn's mocking laughter filled his mind.

"I knew it," the Djinn purred with satisfaction again. "I knew you'd fall in love with her."

"What?" Zayd whispered, his heart sinking as the implication of the Djinn's words hit him.

"And your heart has betrayed you, Zayd," the Djinn continued, its laughter growing louder in his mind. "And now, as promised, you owe her to me. To fulfill your part of the deal."

Zayd's chest tightened, his gaze flickering back to Princess Inara. The realization struck him like a blade to the heart—this was the woman the Djinn had spoken of. The first woman he would fall in love with. And now, because of his foolish deal, he had promised her to the Djinn.

"You planned this all along," Zayd hissed through gritted teeth, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

The Djinn gave no answer, only let out a low, sinister laugh that reverberated in Zayd's mind.

"Speak," Inara commanded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "Why have you come to Paristan?"

Zayd took a deep breath and sank to one knee on the cool marble floor, bowing his head low as a gesture of reverence and respect. His heartbeat echoed in his chest, as he fought to steady himself. 

"Forgive me, Princess," he said, anxiously, as he forced the words past his lips. "I am Prince Zayd, eldest son of King Rajan and the Crown Prince of Qadar." The titles tasted hollow, like remnants of a life he had left behind—or been cast out from.

"Tell her you came to ask her hand in marriage," the Djinn hissed from within the bottle, it's influence slithering into Zayd's mind like venom. "Tell her your father has sent you. Do whatever it takes to get her outside of Paristan, away from the boundary of this wretched fairy kingdom."

Zayd clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles white. The Djinn's words coiled around his thoughts, tempting and suffocating, each syllable dripping with malice. He refused to meet Princess Inara's gaze, afraid she might see the war raging inside him.

"I won't," he muttered under his breath, barely audible. "I came here because..." He hesitated. His mind raced, searching for the right words. 

Should he tell the truth? 

"Lie to her. It'll be easier that way." The Djinn's darkness slithered into his thoughts, smooth and cajoling. "Just get her out of this Paristan, and I will do the rest in taking my bride." Its sinister laughter echoed in his mind.

Doubt crushed Zayd's chest, heavy and suffocating. He clenched his fists against the floor. The temptation was there, gnawing at him. 

A single lie could ease his path forward. But even as the thought surfaced, he felt a cold wave of disgust. 

Inara's attention remained fixed on him, radiating an air of quiet authority. Her luminous golden eyes held a spark of curiosity. It was as though she could see through the layers of his turmoil, as though no lie would escape her notice.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and began. "I came here because I lost faith under the weight of my crown," Zayd said, trembling now with raw sincerity. "I doubted that I could live a life of purpose and love, given my position." Each word carried the weight of his despair, but also his truth, as he forced himself to meet the piercing gaze of Princess Inara.

The fairy princess tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes narrowing, but the curiosity in her gaze prompted her to let him continue.

"I didn't mean to bring this upon your court or you, beautiful Princess," he said, looking around, with regret. "Now I am cursed because I made a deal with a Djinn, you see."

A collective gasp rippled through the court of fairies, their voices breaking out in hushed whispers and murmurs. The once-still room erupted into a storm of gossip, their almost musical tones weaving through the air as they spoke of the Djinn in alarmed.

Zayd's throat tightened. "The curse has not only transformed my body, but it now seeks to claim Princess Inara." His eyes flickered to her, his expression filled with both guilt and desperation. "Have mercy on me, wise and beautiful princess." He bowed his head, "Under different circumstances, I would have taken this moment to offer you my hand in marriage." 

The fairies fell silent, their whispers replaced by the weight of his confession. All eyes turned to the princess. The room held its breath, waiting for her reaction.

When he finished, the hall was quiet. Inara's expression was unreadable, her dark eyes locked onto his. Then she spoke, calmly.

"You were foolish to make a deal with a Djinn," she said. "Especially that Djinn," she pointed to the bottle in his pocket and it flew out and hovered between them. 

The Djinn's plea echoed through the grand hall: "Princess Inara, please take me back! I am your humble servant." 

"You see, Prince Zayd of Qadar," Princess Inara said, "I trapped this Djinn in that bottle over two hundred years ago. He was once brought to Paristan as a guardian for my sisters and me, but instead, he began to covet me as his bride. After my father passed, he betrayed us—opening the gates of Paristan to an army of Djinn, all to claim me as his. His army was defeated, and as punishment, he was sealed in that bottle, never to roam free again."

Zayd blinked, staring at her in shock. She looked no older than her twenties, radiant and untouched by time. "I must confess, Princess," he said, uncertain, "I am... confused."

Inara laughed, gently. "Time does not flow for me as it does for your kind. My bond to Paristan keeps me ageless. But this Djinn," she took a deep breath, "is a trickster, a liar."

The bottle pulse in the air, the Djinn's faint laughter mocking him. 

"Because," Inara said, her wings shifting behind her, "a Djinn's power is not in its captivity but in the choices of those who summon it. You, Prince Zayd, by agreeing to its false promises have given it new life."

"He made a deal with me," Djinn spoke to the entire court, "and a deal is a deal."

Inara rose from her throne, her gaze steady and fearless. "You will not take what is not yours," she declared.

She was beauty and power embodied. Zayd was in awe. 

The fairies guards around her raised their spears, their wings flaring as they stepped forward.

The Djinn sneered. "Unless he offers something greater, the deal stands."

Zayd staggered to his feet, his body shaking but his resolve firm. "Take me," he said, firmly, despite the fear clawing at his chest. "Take my soul, my life—whatever you desire. But in the name of God, spare the princess."

The Djinn's bottle trembled violently. "Why must you always invoke God's name?" He hissed, sharply with disdain, as though the very mention caused it pain.

Princess Inara stepped forward, her wings unfolding like a shield of light. "By the grace of God," she declared, her words ringing through the hall, "I command you to leave this place and go so far that no human may ever encounter you again!"

The bottle began to tremble violently in the air, then it spun in midair as the Djinn let out a howl of fury. It rose higher and higher, twisting and turning until, with a blinding flash of light, it shot through the stained-glass window, shattering it into a cascade of shimmering fragments. The bottle soared into the sky, climbing higher and higher until it vanished, a mere speck disappearing into the heavens.

Zayd sank to his knees again. The glowing circuitry on his chest and arms began to fade, the hum of the mechanical core in his heart quieting. He placed a hand over his chest, feeling the steady, natural rhythm of his heartbeat for the first time since his curse began.

The fairies erupted into cheers, their melodious voices filling the grand hall with a symphony of joy. Laughter and celebratory murmurs echoed, creating an atmosphere of pure relief and positivity. Wings fluttered in excitement, shimmering in the light like cascading rainbows as the air filled with a newfound sense of hope.

Inara knelt beside him, her touch gentle. "You were willing to sacrifice everything to do what is right," she said, softly. "That is a rare and noble for a human."

Zayd looked up at her, gratitude and something deeper in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "You saved my life."

Inara smiled warmly. "No, Prince Zayd," she said. "You saved your own life by having faith, showing courage, and speaking the truth."

He stood tall, for the first time, understanding who he truly was.

"I was told when I was a little girl," the Princess Inara began, "that one day a human man would enter Paristan with a Djinn," she said, blushing slightly, her wings catching the golden light. 

"If he proved truthful and brave, he would defeat the Djinn. And if he succeeded, I was destined to become his bride." Her smile grew bolder, her radiant presence filling the room. 

He sank back onto one knee, his heart pounding. "Princess," he said, trembling again, "Princess Inara, you are the most radiant woman I have ever met. My heart loved you the moment I saw you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Her golden wings shimmered faintly as she stepped closer, her gaze softening. "Yes," she whispered, extending her delicate, beautiful hand to him.

Taking her hand in his, Zayd met her gaze, the warmth in her dark eyes drawing him in. He nodded, a sense of peace washing over him. For the first time, he felt truly free.