The English countryside rolled out like a green tapestry as the sleek black car approached the grand gates of the prince's estate. Ilana, a brunette of 25 with a slim figure and generous breasts, sat in the backseat, her heart racing. She had been told little about what to expect, other than that she was to undergo a series of medical checks and inspections before she could be considered for employment. She had heard whispers of the prince's peculiar tastes, but she was a professional, and this was a job that could change her life.

As the gates swung open, the car pulled up to an imposing manor house. The driver, a stoic man with a thick accent, opened the door for her and gestured towards the entrance. She stepped out, the cobblestone path beneath her feet, and took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air.

Inside, the decor was a mix of opulent Middle Eastern flair and traditional English charm. The walls were adorned with tapestries and the floor with plush Persian rugs. The scent of exotic spices mingled with the faint aroma of antiseptic. Ahmed, a tall middle-aged man with a stern yet courteous demeanor, greeted her. His English was impeccable, with just a hint of an accent that made him sound even more authoritative.

"Welcome, Miss Ilana," he said, extending a hand. "Please, come this way."

Ahmed led her through the maze of corridors to an office that was both welcoming and intimidating. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with leather-bound tomes, and a large mahogany desk dominated the space. He offered her a seat and took a moment to review some paperwork before speaking.

"As I'm sure you are aware," he began, "the prince is quite particular about the company he keeps. To ensure your suitability, you will undergo a thorough medical examination. I assure you, it is for the best. Dr. Harris will be performing the exam. She is quite skilled and will make sure everything is to the prince's standards."

Ilana nodded, trying to keep her nerves at bay. The prospect of being poked and prodded was not thrilling, but she had done stranger things in her line of work.

Ahmed handed her a clipboard with a stack of forms to sign. "These are just the standard waivers and consents. After you're finished, I'll show you to the medical room."

Her hands trembled slightly as she scrawled her signature across the dotted lines. When she was done, Ahmed took the clipboard, gave a curt nod, and led her to a clinical space that looked more like a doctor's office than something she would expect in a luxurious manor. The walls were stark white, and the air was cool and sterile. The only decorations were a few framed medical certificates and an abstract painting that seemed to be an attempt to inject a bit of life into the room.

The young blonde nurse was already waiting for her, her eyes scrutinizing as Ilana entered the medical room.

"Ahmed, I've been expecting Miss Ilana," the nurse said, her British accent as crisp as the folded linen on the exam table.

Ahmed nodded and took a seat in a corner of the room. "You know what needs to be done, Nurse."

The nurse turned her attention to Ilana. "Strip, please."

Ilana looked at Ahmed, who nodded in confirmation. She swallowed hard and began to unbutton her blouse, sliding it off her shoulders and letting it pool at her waist. She stepped out of her skirt, her heart pounding as the cool air kissed her skin. She had always been proud of her figure, but the thought of being so exposed to strangers made her feel vulnerable.

The young blonde nurse's eyes remained focused, her expression professional as she observed Ilana's every move. Ilana continued to undress, removing her bra and panties, and stood before them completely bare.

Ahmed cleared his throat. "Nurse, if you would be so kind as to confirm Miss Ilana's grooming. The prince has very specific requirements."

The nurse stepped forward, her stethoscope swinging from her neck. She began a meticulous examination of Ilana's body, starting at the top and moving downward. Her hands felt cold and clinical as they touched Ilana's skin, checking every inch for the slightest bit of stubble. The nurse's eyes lingered on her pubic area and then moved to her buttocks, giving them a firm squeeze before parting her cheeks to inspect her anus.

"You're quite thorough," Ilana managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady.

The nurse replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's important for the prince's satisfaction, Miss."

With a nod from the nurse, Ahmed left the room, leaving her alone with the medical staff. The nurse took her measurements with an air of efficiency that bordered on detachment. "Height," she said, guiding her to stand against a wall-mounted measuring stick. "Weight," she added, gesturing to the scale. "Body fat," she said, as she pinched the skin on her stomach and hips with calipers.

After jotting down the results, the nurse handed her a flimsy hospital gown. "Put this on and sit on the exam table," she instructed.

Ilana complied, her skin prickling with goose bumps as the cool fabric barely covered her nakedness. She perched on the edge of the crinkling paper, her knees drawn up to her chest in an unconscious attempt to shield herself from the nurse's gaze. The nurse returned with a plastic cup and a stern expression.

"Miss Ilana," she began, her voice as cold as the instruments she held. "You will now provide a urine sample. It is essential that we ensure your health is in perfect condition."

Ilana nodded and took the cup, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and determination. She walked over to the bathroom, the gown gaping open, and did as she was told. The nurse took the sample and disappeared behind a partition. The sound of liquid being poured into a machine was followed by a series of beeps and whirs.

When she returned, the nurse held a tray with a collection of medical instruments that sent a shiver down Ilana's spine. "Lie down on your side, please," she instructed, pointing to the exam table.

Ilana lay down, her knees drawn up to her chest, as the nurse took her blood pressure and pulse. The coldness of the stethoscope on her skin made her flinch, but she remained as still as possible. The nurse then took a small needle and a clear vial. "Now, for the blood test," she said, her eyes never leaving the task at hand.

The pinprick was swift and almost painless. The nurse expertly drew the blood and labeled the tube before placing it in a tray.

"Thank you," she said, her voice as emotionless as a robot. "Now, I need to prepare you for the internal exams."

Ilana's stomach clenched as the nurse rolled a cart over with various bottles and tubes. The nurse explained that she would administer an enema to cleanse her bowels, as the prince was quite particular about hygiene. She mixed the solution and inserted the nozzle without ceremony, the coldness of the plastic making her jolt. The nurse then left the room, giving her some semblance of privacy as the warm liquid filled her.

The minutes ticked by, and Ilana could feel the pressure building. When the nurse returned, she helped her to a bathroom where she could expel the solution. The process was more humiliating than she had ever imagined, but she reminded herself that this was all part of the job.

When she was done, the nurse handed her a fresh gown. "Now for the vaginal douche," she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The nurse held up a bottle filled with a clear, slightly minty solution. "This will ensure that you're clean and fresh for the exam. It's quite cold, but it will help to relax your muscles."

Ilana took a deep breath and nodded, stepping back onto the exam table. The nurse had her lie back, her feet in the stirrups again, and without ceremony, she inserted the douche's nozzle into her. The coldness was a shock at first, but the nurse's gentle voice helped her to relax.

"Just breathe, Miss Ilana," she said, squeezing the bottle. "This will be over in a moment."

The cool liquid filled her, and she felt a strange sensation of vulnerability. It was as if she was being prepared not just for an exam, but for something more intimate and personal. The nurse withdrew the nozzle and gave her a few moments to adjust before moving on to the next part of the process.

Ahmed returned, his expression unreadable. He stood at the foot of the table, his eyes sweeping over her exposed body. "You're doing well," he said, his voice low and soothing. "The prince will be pleased."

The doctor, a British woman with a no-nonsense attitude, entered the room. Her name was Dr. Harris, and she was known for her discretion and thoroughness. She was dressed in a crisp lab coat, her hair pulled back into a severe bun. Her eyes were sharp and focused, and she moved with the confidence of someone who had seen it all.

"Ah, Miss Ilana," she said, her voice brisk. "Let's begin."

The nurse stepped aside as Dr. Harris took over the exam.

"Now, Miss Ilana, I'll be conducting a general physical exam," Dr. Harris announced, her tone as detached as a seasoned professional. She approached the table with a grace that belied her age, her eyes flicking over the clipboard before she raised them to meet Ilana's. "Let's start with the basics."

The doctor's eyes searched Ilana's face, scrutinizing her eyes, ears, and mouth in a way that made her feel like an object under inspection. She shone a light into her eyes, peered into her ears, and even looked down her throat, the cold steel of the tongue depressor making her shiver. The nurse assisted, taking notes with a swift, silent efficiency that was almost eerie in its precision.

Ahmed hovered at the edge of the room, his eyes never leaving Ilana's body. His gaze was assessing, a blend of curiosity and hunger that made her feel both exposed and desired.

"Now, let's check for any signs of scoliosis," Dr. Harris said, her voice as unflappable as the rest of her demeanor. She had Ilana stand, her back to the doctor, and bent her over the exam table. The nurse took her position at the head of the table, her fingers pressing along Ilana's spine as Dr. Harris felt along the length of her back. The touch was firm but not unkind, and Ilana found herself holding her breath, willing her body to be perfect.

The doctor nodded to herself. "Good, no issues there."

Ahmed stepped closer, his eyes locked on the nurse's hands as they traced the contours of Ilana's body. The atmosphere in the room grew thick with anticipation, the air charged with the tension of the impending examination of her breasts.

"Now, the final part before we move on," Dr. Harris said, her voice dropping slightly, "I need to confirm that your breasts are natural. Lower your gown."

Ilana's pulse quickened as the doctor's hands moved to cup her breasts, her thumbs and forefingers gently pinching the nipples, rolling them slightly.

Ahmed's gaze never left Ilana's face as Dr. Harris proceeded with the examination. His eyes were dark with curiosity and a hint of something more primal.

"Please lie back," the doctor instructed, and Ilana complied, her breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. The doctor's hands were firm but gentle as she palpated each breast, checking for any signs of augmentation. "Breathe normally," she said, her voice calm and soothing despite the intensity of her gaze.

The nurse took a step back, her eyes flickering with a hint of something that might have been envy or admiration. Ahmed's eyes, however, remained glued to the doctor's hands as they moved over Ilana's flesh.

"You see," Ahmed explained, as the doctor squeezed and massaged the soft mounds, "the prince is quite particular. He prefers natural beauty."

Ilana nodded, her breath shallow and quick as the doctor's thumbs circled her areolae, pressing down before releasing. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as the doctor's professional touch sent a shiver through her body.

"Ah, yes," Dr. Harris said finally, her voice filled with satisfaction as she released her grip. "No implants here. The prince will be pleased."

Ahmed nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Ahmed," Dr. Harris called out, snapping him from his thoughts, "If you would be so kind as to leave us now. This next part is quite intimate and requires Miss Ilana's full cooperation."

Ahmed's eyes lingered on Ilana for a moment longer before he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The nurse's eyes remained fixed on her clipboard, her pen poised to record the doctor's findings.

"Miss Ilana," Dr. Harris said, her voice softer now, "Your drug and STI panels have come back clean but I do need to perform a rectal temperature check. It's a standard procedure to ensure that there is no hidden infection that could be of concern. Please lie on your side and hold your knees up to your chest."

Ilana took a deep breath, bracing herself for the intrusion. She felt the cold, lubricated thermometer being inserted into her anus, the doctor's hand firm but gentle as she twisted it to the correct position. The nurse's eyes remained focused on her face, her expression a mask of professionalism.

"Now, hold still," the doctor said, her eyes flicking up to meet Ilana's in the reflection of the chrome medical light above them. "This will only take a moment."

Ilana bit her lower lip, her cheeks flaming as the thermometer remained lodged inside her. The doctor's gaze never wavered, holding hers as if to reassure her that she was in control, that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Finally, the doctor withdrew the thermometer, her eyes flicking to the display before she nodded with satisfaction. "Everything seems to be in order," she said, making a note on the clipboard. "Now, let's proceed with the lung capacity test."

The nurse set up a series of tubes and a large, plastic contraption that looked like a cross between a respirator and a gas mask. Ilana felt a twinge of apprehension as she sat up and allowed the nurse to fasten it over her face, the cold plastic pressing against her nose and mouth.

"Now, breathe in as deeply as you can," the doctor instructed, her voice muffled by the mask. "Hold it for five seconds, and then breathe out as quickly and as completely as possible."

Ilana did as she was told, the mask sucking at her face as she inhaled deeply. The nurse's eyes remained on her, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath.

"Very good," Dr. Harris said, making more notes on the clipboard. "It's important that you can handle certain... activities that may involve breath control. This will ensure that you're in good health for when the time comes."

The implication was clear, and Ilana felt a thrill of fear and excitement run through her.

"For the final part," Dr. Harris said, her tone unwavering, "I need you to return to the couch."

Ilana nodded and slid off the exam table, the coldness of the floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. The nurse rolled the couch back into the center of the room and repositioned it so that the stirrups faced the door.

"Ahmed will join us again for a very quick visual inspection," the doctor continued. "Please place your legs in the stirrups and lie back."

The nurse's eyes never left her as she obeyed, her movements slow and deliberate. The stirrups were cold and unyielding, and she had to adjust them herself, her feet slipping into place with an unsettling ease.

The nurse pulled the stirrups apart, wider than Ilana was used to. She felt the muscles in her thighs strain as she lay back, the gown gaping open, leaving her utterly exposed.

"Is it time?" Amed's voice echoed from the other side of the door.

The door swung open and he stepped in, his gaze immediately drawn to her open legs. The nurse stepped aside, allowing him a clear view. Dr. Harris shone a light between her thighs, illuminating her most intimate parts.

Ahmed took a seat between Ilana's legs, his eyes never leaving her genitals. The silence grew heavy, the only sound in the room the faint tick of the clock on the wall. Ilana felt as if she was being dissected, her body laid bare for their scrutiny.

Ahmed leaned closer, "Could you adjust the light, nurse?"

Ahmed leaned in closer, his eyes tracing the line of her inner thighs, the curve of her sex, and the tight ring of muscle that was the focus of his attention.

"Ahmed," the doctor said, her voice a low purr, "Could you confirm that everything looks as it should?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes lingering. "It would be good to observe from a rear view," he murmured, his voice thick with something she couldn't quite name.

The nurse nodded and moved aside, gesturing for Ilana to get on all fours. She complied, the paper crackling beneath her knees and palms. The room felt smaller now, the air thick with tension.

Ahmed's chair scraped against the floor as he stood and moved around the couch. The nurse adjusted the light again, casting deep shadows across her body.

"Nurse," Ahmed said finally, his voice tight, "Could you spread her cheeks for us?"

The nurse nodded and reached for a pair of latex-gloved hands, her touch cold and firm as she parted the petals of Ilana's anus. Ahmed leaned in even closer, his gaze intense as he studied the puckered opening.

"Yes," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, "This is... acceptable."

Ilana felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Acceptable. It was all she was to them, a commodity to be assessed and approved. But she had come too far to let it get to her. She had to pass this test, no matter how degrading it felt.

The nurse removed her hands, and Ilana felt the coolness of the air brush against her exposed skin. Ahmed nodded and took out his phone, holding it up to capture the image of her open and exposed. The flash was blinding, and Ilana felt a pang of humiliation as the camera clicked.

"For the prince's records," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "He must know what he's getting."

Without another word, he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Ilana remained on all fours, feeling more exposed than she ever had in her life. Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain her composure, the coldness of the room seeping into her skin. The nurse's eyes remained on her, unreadable, as she waited for the next instruction.

"Miss Ilana," Dr. Harris said, her voice cutting through the silence like a scalpel, "The final part of the examination is the gynecological check. It is crucial that we ensure everything is in order before the prince makes his final decision. Please remain as you are."

The nurse rolled over a cart filled with gleaming, cold instruments that made Ilana's heart race. Dr. Harris picked up a large, chrome speculum, and Ilana couldn't help but flinch at the sight of it. The nurse handed the doctor a small jar of lubricant and a latex glove, which she snapped into place with a sound that echoed through the room.

"This may be a bit uncomfortable, but it is necessary," the doctor said, her voice devoid of any warmth or reassurance. "Please try to relax."

Ilana nodded, her eyes squeezed shut, as the doctor's latex-covered finger slid into her, spreading her open to accommodate the speculum. The cold metal was a shock, and she couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her lips as it was inserted. The nurse took a step closer, her eyes on the doctor's face as if watching for a sign of approval or disapproval.

"Good," Dr. Harris murmured, her voice muffled by the mask she now wore. "Now, I need you to stay very still while I examine you."

The doctor began to slowly widen the speculum. The sensation was strange and unwelcome, and Ilana's body tensed against the intrusion. The doctor's eyes narrowed, her gaze focused on the openness of her sex as she searched for any sign of disease or injury.

The doctor's voice was clinical, detached, as she began her inspection. "Everything seems in order," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own breathing. "No signs of infection or damage."

Ilana felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine, her body responding in ways she couldn't control.

The doctor began to open the speculum wider, the cold metal stretching her unnaturally. Ilana's breath hitched in her throat as the nurse's eyes remained unblinking, watching the process with the detachment of a scientist observing a lab experiment. The doctor's gaze was intense, her eyes never leaving the reflection in the lighted mirror between Ilana's legs.

"Perfect," she murmured, the speculum now at its maximum width. "Now, hold still while I remove it."

Dr. Harris warned as she smeared the cold jelly on her gloved fingers, the latex squeaking against the plastic jar. "Now for a necessary part of the exam to ensure there are no issues with incontinence."

Ilana nodded, her face a mask of stoicism, even as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She had done countless exams in her line of work, but something about this one was different. The way the doctor's eyes pierced through her, the way the nurse's gaze remained unwaveringly professional yet hungry, the way the room itself seemed to shrink around her – it all made her feel like a specimen under a microscope.

"Now, Miss Ilana, I need you to cough for me," the doctor said, her voice as cold as the gel.

Ilana complied, the sound echoing off the sterile walls. The doctor inserted two fingers into her, pressing down firmly. The sensation was uncomfortable, almost painful, as she searched for any sign of weakness in her pelvic floor.

"Again," the doctor instructed, her eyes never leaving the reflection in the mirror.

Ilana coughed, her eyes watering, her body tensing around the intrusion. The doctor's gaze remained unchanged, her expression one of pure concentration.

"Good," she said finally, withdrawing her fingers. "No leaks detected."

The nurse made a note on the clipboard, her pen scratching against the paper like nails on a chalkboard.

"Now, for the bi-manual exam," Dr. Harris said, her voice a monotone.

Ilana took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for the next step. The doctor's hands were firm and unyielding as she inserted two fingers into her again, this time curling them upward to press against her abdomen from the inside.

"Bear down," she ordered, her eyes flicking up to meet Ilana's in the mirror.

Ilana complied, her muscles straining with the effort. The doctor's other hand pressed down on her stomach, the pressure increasing as she searched for any abnormalities.

"Now, relax," Dr. Harris said, her voice a command.

Ilana felt the doctor's fingers moving inside her, the pressure shifting and changing as she mapped out her internal landscape. The nurse's eyes remained on the doctor's hands, her own fingers poised over the clipboard, ready to scribble down any findings.

"Everything seems normal," Dr. Harris murmured, "And now, the rectovaginal exam."

The nurse nodded, her eyes never leaving the clipboard as she made a note. Ilana felt the doctor's hand between her legs again, the latex-covered fingers sliding into her first vagina and then anus, one after the other, in a rhythmic pattern that was almost mesmerizing. It was a sensation that was both foreign and deeply personal, and she had to fight the urge to squirm under their scrutiny.

"Miss Ilana," the doctor said, her voice low and authoritative, "Please remain as relaxed as possible."

Her voice was the only sound in the room, the only thing keeping Ilana tethered to reality as she lay there, her body being manipulated and inspected. She took a deep breath, willing herself to relax as the doctor's fingers pushed into her, the sensation of fullness almost overwhelming.

"Good," Dr. Harris said, her voice a murmur of satisfaction. "Now, I need to perform a rectal digital exam. Please lie on your side with your knees lifted to your chest."

The nurse rolled over a smaller, more intimate cart, the instruments laid out with a precision that was almost military. Ilana felt a wave of coldness wash over her as the doctor's hand withdrew, only to be replaced by something smaller and more pointed.

"I will insert this finger into your rectum," the doctor explained, her voice devoid of any warmth. "Mainly to check muscle tone, then we will proceed with a visual exam."

Ilana nodded, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over her. She had never been so intimately touched by a stranger before, let alone in such a clinical setting. But she knew this was part of the job, part of the price she had to pay for the chance at a better life.

The doctor's finger was cold and lubricated as it entered her, the sensation strange and uncomfortable. She could feel the doctor's eyes on her, watching for any sign of discomfort or resistance. The nurse, ever the silent observer, made a notation on the clipboard.

"Good," Dr. Harris murmured. "Now, for the rectoscope exam."

The nurse rolled the cart closer, revealing a device that looked like a cross between a camera and a metal wand. It was longer and thicker than anything Ilana had ever seen used in a medical context.

"This is a 25 cm rectoscope," the doctor said, holding it up for Ilana to see. "It will allow me to visualise inside of you and ensure you are clear of haemmeroids, disease, tearing or anything else which may get in the way of vigorous activities."

The nurse stepped closer, her eyes on the doctor's hand as it held the device. She offered a small nod of understanding.

"You've never had one before?" the doctor asked, her tone almost conversational.

Ilana's voice was a whisper. "No."

The doctor nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Don't worry, Miss Ilana. I'll be as gentle as possible."

The nurse applied more lubricant to the rectoscope, her movements precise and efficient. Dr. Harris took the device and leaned in, her eyes on Ilana's face as she began to insert it.

"Take a deep breath and try to relax," she instructed, her voice a soothing murmur.

Ilana's heart pounded in her chest as the doctor began to insert the rectoscope, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. She felt the nurse's eyes on her, watching every twitch and flinch, as if she were a subject in a medical textbook. The nurse's hand rested gently on her hip, a silent reminder of her presence and her role in this invasive procedure.

Dr. Harris's voice remained calm and clinical as she worked the device deeper into Ilana's body. "Just breathe, Miss Ilana. The more you relax, the easier this will be."

The pressure grew as the doctor maneuvered the rectoscope, the light at the end of the tube piercing the dark recesses of her rectum. Ilana tried to focus on the sound of the doctor's voice rather than the sensation of the cold metal invading her, the nurse's hand now pressing more firmly into her skin, grounding her.

"Alright, I'm going to remove the obturator now," Dr. Harris said, her tone a gentle warning of what was to come. "You may feel a bit of a pop."

The sudden change was surprising, and Ilana gasped as the tension released, the doctor's gaze never leaving the mirror. The nurse made another note, her pen moving almost rhythmically with the doctor's movements.

"Good," Dr. Harris murmured, her voice a comforting hum. "Now, I'll just take a quick look around."

The nurse leaned closer, her eyes on the mirror, her gaze flicking between the doctor's face and the reflection of the proctoscope's journey. The tension in the room was palpable, the only sound the faint whir of the light in the scope and the doctor's steady breaths.

"Everything looks... quite lovely," the doctor said, her voice a mix of professional detachment and something else, something that made Ilana's cheeks burn.

The nurse nodded, her eyes never leaving the doctor's hand as it moved the device in and out, the latex-covered fingers deftly maneuvering the proctoscope.

"Ah," Dr. Harris said, her voice a bit sharper. "There's something here."

Ilana's body tensed, and she couldn't help but let out a small whimper. The nurse's hand tightened on her hip, a silent command to stay still.

The doctor leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she examined whatever had caught her attention. "It's just a small hemorrhoid," she said, her voice still calm. "It won't be an issue. We'll make a note for the prince, but it's nothing to worry about."

The nurse made another notation, her eyes flicking to Ilana's face before returning to the clipboard.

"Alright, Miss Ilana," the doctor said, her voice brisk. "I'm going to remove the rectoscope now."

The sensation of the metal sliding out of her was almost a relief, the coldness leaving her body and the room seeming to expand again. She felt a cool breeze on her exposed skin, the nurse moving quickly to cover her up with a fresh gown.

"You can sit up now," the doctor said, her tone kinder now that the exam was over.

Ilana sat up slowly, her legs shaking as she tried to cover herself. The doctor and the nurse both had their eyes on her, assessing, evaluating.

"Miss Ilana," Dr. Harris began, her voice gentle. "Your results are excellent. You're in perfect health, and the prince will be most pleased."

Ahmed re-entered the room, his eyes sweeping over Ilana's now exposed and vulnerable form with a gaze that was a mix of satisfaction and assessment. He nodded curtly to Dr. Harris before turning his attention back to the young brunette.

"Miss Ilana," he began, his tone now softer than the one he had used earlier, "Your examination has been completed to our satisfaction."

Ilana felt a mix of relief and trepidation, the coldness of the gown sticking to her damp skin serving as a stark reminder of the intimate scrutiny she had just endured. Ahmed walked over to her, his steps measured and deliberate. He handed her a luxurious, plush robe and a pair of matching slippers.

"A suite has been prepared for you. You can take a shower and freshen up. The hair and make-up team will arrive shortly to ensure you are... presentable for the prince."