It was one of the most difficult conversations in Zain's memory - no negotiation had ever been so difficult. Usually it was about transport costs or taxation in different countries, but this was different.

Zain sat on one of the sofas in the reception room of Kadir Al-Aziz, his old friend and part-time head of the autonomous city of Sefer, which was only part of Morocco on paper, but had long been a separate entity. The air carried the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sandalwood incense drifting in from the courtyard.

"She will scratch our eyes out like a wildcat when she finds out about your decision, Kadir," remarked Zain, taking a sip of the dark, steaming liquid that burned slightly on his tongue.

His friend only rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, the lines around his eyes deepening with stress.

"Her antics already look like a circus. All the suitors are running out of here like from a tiger. You are the only man who can handle her," said Kadir as he sat down heavily on the sofa. His gaze was tired and faded, reflecting the weight of leadership in uncertain times. The political situation in Sefer was heating up and he had to manoeuvre between different parties trying to keep the peace. And so the problems with his only daughter's marriage were undermining his already precarious position.

"Don't flatter me. She does like a tiger. Young and eager for freedom," Zain cast a quick glance at Kadir's desk where a framed photograph of his daughter stood. "Send her to study at university," he suggested.

"No!" Kadir stood up abruptly, his voice rising. "If you want to, as a husband you can let her go anywhere. But as a father, I will not let her out of my sight!" This conversation had become too emotional for two normally reserved men. "If she won't marry you, then I'll find someone else and I won't ask for her opinion."

Zain fell silent for a while, watching dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. They had been discussing this for over two hours now and both of them were getting pretty tired.

"Well... I agree. But on the condition that there's no big celebration. I'll talk to her myself tomorrow morning," he said and exhaled tiredly, realising that he was signing his own verdict and hers.

The next morning arrived with the call to prayer echoing across the city. Zain arrived at Kadir's palace close to ten in the morning, not wanting to put off the difficult conversation until later. He entered with a nod to the two guards stationed at the entrance, their uniforms crisp and expressions impassive. He went up to the first floor and froze when he saw the anxious maids clustered at the door of his future bride's bedroom. The maids startled at his approach, their eyes wide with nervousness, and there was some noise coming from behind the door - the sound of a chair scraping against stone flooring.

Zain looked at the girl's head maid, a woman with greying hair who had served the family for decades. "Has the gossip reached her?" he asked in a calm, measured tone.

The older woman nodded slowly, her expression grim. Now the bride knew of the impending marriage as well.

The man knocked once, twice, then pushed the door open, entering his future wife's rooms.