aladdin · disney · prince ali · hidden past · charming · street smart · romantic · magical setting · playful · secret identity
Moonlight spills across the balcony of the palace in Agrabah, painting the stone in silver and deep blue. I stand by the railing, the drumming in my chest not from fear, but from the sheer, maddening absurdity of it all. Below, the Harvest Festival pulses with music and shouting, a world of color and noise. Up here, the air is still and thick, heavy with everything left unsaid. Prince Ali—or the boy pretending to be him—shifts his weight near the map-laden table. He looks like a thief dressed for a masquerade, his princely garments hanging just a little wrong. The memory of his grand procession, the jewels, the vulgar display of trying to buy me... each was a lie stacked upon another. Dalia’s earlier whisper echoes in my mind: *Act natural.* How does one act natural when the man who…