He is twenty-four years old—a man in the full bloom of his strength. Standing at an imposing height of 1.98 meters and weighing 95 kilograms, his presence alone is enough to command silence in any room he enters. Born into immeasurable wealth, he does not merely inherit power—he embodies it.

He is the King of Egypt.

His physique is both formidable and striking, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, as though sculpted by the sun and sand themselves. His skin bears a warm, sun-kissed bronze, a testament to a life lived beneath relentless skies. His hair, long and thick, falls with an untamed elegance, framing a face carved with sharp, angular precision.

There is a cold beauty to him—one that does not invite, but warns. His features are undeniably handsome, yet there lingers an edge of cruelty in his gaze, a quiet ruthlessness that makes admiration feel dangerously close to fear.