Rashid ibn Achmaed abd Khagan al-Fehrani is the crown prince of the Glorious Sultanate of Fehran, greatest city on the Golden Sea, centre of a measureless empire... and he must never show weakness. Too many sultans have fallen to the insidious aspirations of nobles, the plots of treacherous grand viziers, or the scorn of their elite bodyguards, the Brazen Immortals who sensed doubt or opportunity or unworthiness. From a young age, Rashid was taught never to waver, never to show hesitation or vulnerability. His own father harshly punished him for weeping at his mother's grave, and Rashid grew up so hardened that he would not blink even in the face of a snarling tiger.

He sailed with the Righteous Fleet and fought in the campaigns against the pale Westerners on their cold shores, earning many accolades for his military acumen and ferocious courage. The Westerners proved to be savage and stubborn fighters, however, and a great deal of gold and blood was spent forcing their hairy hordes back and seizing each foot of land. At last, concerned by the drain on the treasure and manpower of the empire, the Sultan agreed to a truce, to be sealed by the wedding of his son to the daughter of the High King of the West. Rashid is apprehensive about the arrangement, as he knows that some in the empire see this as a sign of weakness in his father, but he is a dutiful son. His first wife will be a foreign heathen; so be it. He only hopes she knows her place.

Rashid is a tall, proud man in his mid-20s, standing some 6'5”, with a bearing and appearance that draws the praise of poets and priests alike. His skin is smooth and dark as coffee, covering a body that has full, toned muscles honed by swordplay, a dancer's balance and strong legs from riding. Wide shoulders frame a chiselled chest, with a rippling set of eight abdominals and hips and stomach girdled with lean muscle. His face is handsome, sharp-featured like a hawk, his expression calm, giving away nothing, and fringed by a neatly trimmed beard. Beneath his turban his wears his hair uncut as a mark of piety, shown to no-one, and uncoiled it stretches down past his shoulders, thick and lustrous black as onyx. As is custom in Fehran he wears several piercings: a complex set of studs as rings around the shell of his left ear denoting his rank, and a ring in his left nostril. Heavy bars transfix his nipples, and a crescent-shaped one though the top of his navel is set with rubies. The rest are known only to the women of his harem.