Ghazi sat on the Moroccan throne while gazing upon a woman who had stolen both his breath and heart. It had only been minutes since the Sultan of Morocco surrendered to the Iberian Empire, and the entire palace was not yet made aware of the situation.

However, judging by the way her father was acting, the girl was smart enough to surmise that the man had surrendered, and that her homeland was now annexed by her northern neighbor. As a result, she immediately made a conscious decision to get on the good side of her new liege, who was clearly smitten with her.

The beautiful Arab woman bowed so lowed that her face was touching the ground as she introduced herself to the man who now ruled over her father's kingdom.

"My name is Amara Al-Haqq. I am the third princess of the Moroccan Sultanate. However, if I am understanding things correctly, my royal position is now in question, as you are the current ruler of Morocco."

Amara's mother and sisters, who were a bit slower in the mind, gasped in shock as they looked towards the former Sultan for clarification on this matter. They did not know what had happened, or why Ghazi was now sitting on their family's throne, and were completely in disbelief.

Yet, Amara knew from the moment her father returned to the palace under the watchful eye of the Iberian soldiers that they had lost the war. Hell, she knew the moment that she saw the German Tiger IIs fly through the sky that they never had a chance at victory.

Ghazi muttered the name Amara under his breath before nodding his head in approval. Without even asking the girls' father, he made a decree that would change the destiny of their two houses forever.

"Amara... Good, I believe it is most fitting, well Amara, you will be my first wife!"

The girl did not even flinch upon hearing such news. In fact, she suspected either she or one of her sisters would at the very least be taken as the concubine of their newest conqueror. Since the moment she first laid eyes on Ghazi at the entrance, she knew she had captured his heart, and thus prepared herself for this exact moment. Without even conferring with her father, the woman nodded her head and rose from her kneeled position to sit at Ghazi's side while responding in an alluring voice.

"As you command, Husband..."

And while Amara may have been quick to adapt to this sudden and monumental change in her life, her father was not as keen at the idea, and was quick to voice his disapproval.

"Absolutely not! My daughter is already betrothed to the Prince of Tlemcen! You have no authority to break the agreement that I have already made with the Emir of Tlemcen!"

Ghazi did not pay attention to the man who would soon be his father-in-law, and instead looked straight into Amara's glistening emerald eyes and asked her a question she never thought she would hear in her life.

"Give me your honest opinion, Amara. Do you wish to marry the Prince of Tlemcen?"

The Prince of Tlemcen was a rotund and gluttonous man. There was no way a beauty like Amara would ever desire of her own accord to be in the same room as him, let alone become his wife. Especially not when a young and handsome golden-haired man like Ghazi was offering her an alternative. Thus she was quick to shake her head, as a solitary tear ran down her bronze cheek.

The fact that the girl started crying at the thought of marrying the Prince of Tlemcen was all the answer that Ghazi needed. The boy quickly wiped the tear from the girl's eye and spoke to her father with an authoritative tone in his voice.

"Very well. You saw your daughter's response. The very idea of marrying the Prince of Tlemcen brings her to tears. This matter is decided. We will join our houses and marry within a fortnight."

Amara had been sizing up Ghazi since the moment he stepped into her father's palace. Though she knew that the man was captivated by her beauty, he stood strong and rejected anything that got in his way. She found the confidence that Ghazi displayed to be quite an attractive trait, and had decided that she would not reject his proposal. Her father, however, was quick to disagree.

"You can not marry my daughter. Tlemcen has already paid the bride price for her hand in marriage, and I have spent it on my army, which you just destroyed. They will need to be compensated, or there will be war!"

The notion of war startled Amara, who believed she was not the slightest bit worthy of such a gruesome price. She quickly looked over at Ghazi to see if the boy was moved in the slightest. However, there was no sign of distress on his handsome face, rather he wore a confident smirk while he slicked his golden mane backwards, before scoffing at the very notion.

"Then let there be war. If Tlemcen has the nerve to declare war on me, then I will march my army into their lands and annex their emirate as well, and when I do, I will take a daughter of the Emir as my second wife! Let us see if they can pose a greater challenge than your pathetic army!"

At this point, the former Sultan of Morocco felt compelled to vomit blood. He could not believe that this boy would treat war as if it were some trivial matter. But then again, the weapons that Ghazi's army wielded had proven to be powerful, and it was entirely possible that they would not suffer a single casualty if they fought against the entire Arab world alone. Thus, he decided to stop protesting, and agreed to Ghazi's demands, albeit with clenched teeth.

"Very well, if that is what you wish, then I will prepare the wedding ceremony to occur within a fortnight, as you have requested. Is there anything else I can get you for the duration of your stay?"

Ghazi thought for only a moment about what he would need, before giving an order to the former Sultan as if he were a mere servant.

"I require a room for myself to stay in and quarters for my men. We will be living in Morocco for at least a fortnight, and I expect no treachery on your part, or I will have this city bombed into oblivion!"

The very threat of having his capital razed to the ground is what caused the former Sultan to surrender in the first place. He would not dare make a move against Ghazi, knowing now what kind of power the boy's allies possessed. For fuck's sake, the Germans were capable of flying through the sky at breakneck speeds. What level of technology their military possessed was simply beyond the Morrocan people's imaginations.

Meanwhile, in Germany, a report was given to the Kaiser about his son's victory. Not even seventy-two hours had passed, and Ghazi had already annexed Morocco. This was not the least bit surprising to the Kaiser, as he had spent years selling weapons to the Iberian Army and training them on how to wield the arms efficiently. The only thing preventing them from taking control of the entire nation in under twenty-four hours was a desperate lack of mechanization.

What was surprising, however, was the fact that Ghazi had announced his wedding in the report and sent out invitations to his entire family. Apparently the boy had become quite smitten with the Sultan of Morocco's daughter, and had on the spot decided to marry her. Berengar simply chuckled when he saw this before voicing his thoughts aloud.

"To the victor goes the spoils! That is what I always say. Isn't that right, honey?"

As he said these words, Berengar handed the report to his wife Yasmin, who was by his side, desperately waiting for the news about her son, and whether or not he had survived the war. When she saw that the boy had indeed emerged victorious and taken a bride through conquest, she immediately frowned before voicing her thoughts on the matter.

"At least you didn't take any of your women through conquest. You won all of our hearts yourself! Shame on that boy, using force to acquire a bride. When we go to the wedding, I will be sure to give him an earful. That is not how I raised him!"

Berengar chuckled when he heard this before grabbing a handful of his wife's plump bottom. Yasmin was already forty-three years old, and yet her body was as still as perfect as ever. Her face had aged ever so slightly. Upon first glance, one would suspect she was actually in her mid-thirties. When the mature beauty felt her rear get grabbed by her husband, she passively let the man enjoy himself, while waiting for his words, which came immediately after.

"No, but that's exactly how I raised him. Might is right, and if my son has the power to take a bunch of Arab and Berber princesses as his brides by force, then he might as well do so. I, for one, look forward to seeing just how beautiful this Princess Amara Al-Haqq is. Because no matter how pretty she might be, she's got nothing on my Yasmin!"

Yasmin simply could not stay mad at her husband when he sweet-talked her like that, and responded to his honey laced words with a passionate kiss on the lips, which eventually devolved into full scale debauchery.