Jasmine had gotten a good cry, alowed herself to be fitted for a beautiful wedding gown, and had basically spent the day avoiding Amyn. He seemed to be avoiding her as well, as he didn't show up for lunch. But when he was absent from dinner, she grew worried, and went to his room to check on him.
Before she could approach the door, however, she saw Prince Achmed enter the room, shutting the door behind him. Suspicious, she snuck toward the door to listen, wondering what buisness the spoiled prince had with her fiancée.

For Amyn, the day had gone from bad to worse. He had spent the day avoiding his brother, and bending over backwards trying to please his father and the Sultan without a word of complaint. Amyn was exhausted, and very grateful for the bath that a servant had drawn for him. Dismissing the servant, Amyn undressed and sank into the warm water with a sigh of relief. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to relax.
"So, how does it feel to finally be someone important?"
Amyn jumped when he heard Achmed's voice, having not heard the door open.
"Feels good, huh?" Achmed continued, "to finally have Father's eye."
"Father doesn't care about me," Amyn spat. "I'm just a means to an end to him."
Achmed grinned. "You're right." Then he scowled. "But it was supposed to be me!"
Lunging forward, Achmed grabbed Amyn's neck. Amyn began to choke, struggling to breathe.
"I was supposed to marry the princess!" Achmed spat in his brother's face. "But you waltzed in and charmed your way into her heart instead."
Amyn was fighting to escape from his older brother's grip. Achmed grinned wickedly, and forced Amyn's head under the water. Amyn struggled weakly, and finally rose to gasp for air when Achmed released him.
"You made a fool of me," Achmed hissed in his brother's ear. "And I do not take that lightly."
Amyn looked up just in time to see his brother's whip coming toward him. He cried out in pain, touching his cheek to where a new mark was now forming. Achmed raised the whip a second time, and Amyn threw his arms up, causing the whip to hit his arms time and time again. He cried out in pain at each lash.
"Please, brother, stop!" Amyn begged.
Jasmine, listening on the other side of the door, was suddenly afraid for her friend. Knocking loudly, she called out, "Amyn, are you ok?"
Amyn's eyes went wide in horror when he heard the princess's voice. Achmed froze, not daring to move. Swallowing nervously, Amyn called, "I'm fine."
"I heard shouting."
Achmed glared viciously. Amyn cringed and stammered out, "Everything's fine."
"Can I come in?"
"NO!" Amyn nearly yelled. "Please don't, I'm... bathing. Give me an hour, ok?"
"All right," Jasmine answered, and both brothers sighed in relief. Neither dared to move, but simply stared at each other.
Finally, it was as though Achmed sprang back to life. Lunging forward, he grabbed Amyn throat again.
"Are you trying to get me caught, brother?" Without waiting for an answer, Achmed forced Amyn's head forward until it was under the water again, and began beating the younger boy's back with the whip. Amyn thrashed in the tub, trying desperately to escape, but his strength was fading fast. Soon, he stopped struggling. Achmed released his brother, pulling him above the water at last.
Amyn began spitting up water. His lungs were hurting so bad, he didn't even feel the places his brother had struck him. Achmed smiled in triumph. Giving Amyn a final smack, the older prince finally left his brother alone.

Hearing footsteps approach the door, Jasmine hid behind a nearby tapestry. Achmed left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Jasmine waited until she was sure Achmed was gone, then knocked softly. "Amyn?" Without waiting for an answer, she entered the room, and gasped at the sight before her.
Amyn was on his knees in the tub, gasping for air. Water was all over the floor as a result of the struggle. But what shocked her the most were the welts on his back and arms which showed up red against his dark skin.
"Amyn, what happened?!" she cried out in horror.
"Jasmine!" Amyn stammered, visibly frightened. "You shouldn't have come in here!"
"And where should I be?" Jasmine gently scolded him. "In my room sipping tea? Amyn, you're hurt!"
"It's not that bad," Amyn grunted, the pain beginning to set in. "Could you hand me a towel?"
Jasmine jumped guiltily. Suddenly aware that he was nude, she snatched up the first cloth she saw. It was a robe. When she realized she blushed deeper in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," she began, but Amyn shrugged.
"It's ok," he assured her, grabbing the robe. "This will work just as well, maybe better." He quickly wrapped it around himself, and stepped out of the tub.
"Amyn, who did this?" Jasmine asked, although she was sure she knew the answer.
"Who do you think?" Amyn spat. "My brother has hated me since he day I was born. This isn't the worst he's ever done."
"You should tell your father..." Jasmine began, but he cut her off.
"He doesn't care. He's done worse to me than Achmed has. He's put me in the stocks, he's thrown me in the prison, he's beaten me until I couldn't stand. What Achmed just did is nothing. My father doesn't care about me, he just cares about the money he'll get from me marrying you!"
"I'm sorry," she apologized softly.
Amyn shrugged. "It's not your fault. He's always been this way. You're lucky, you know?" he said suddenly, looking into her eyes sadly. "To have a father who loves you. The only reason I'm still alive is because of what I am. It's forbidden to behead a prince."
"Once we're married, they can't touch you again," Jasmine tried to assure him. "You will be the future sultan! And you'll have the best care that Agrabah can provide."
Amyn eyes went wide. "No one needs to know!" he gasped.
"Father does," she pressed gently.
"No!" Amyn begged. "He'll think I'm weak! A prince who can be pushed around is not fit to rule. You'll be forced to marry Jafar, or worse, Achmed, and I'll be put in the stocks for life! No, we have to keep this a secret."
"Who told you you're unfit to rule?" Jasmine asked, surprised.
Amyn looked down. "I've been told that my whole life," he admitted.
"Well, it's not true! I saw the way you treated my people, with the same kindness and respect that you've shown me. If anyone is fit to rule Agrabah, it's you!"
He looked at her in shock. "You mean that?"
She smiled. "Of course I do!"
Amyn smiled back at her. Perhaps everything would be all right after all.
"And my father won't think you're weak for this," she continued cautiously. "If anything, he will think you're stronger for it."
"And if you're wrong?" Amyn asked uneasily.
"You're still a prince," Jasmine reminded him. "And I will beg him to let me marry you."
"I don't know about this." Amyn shuddered.
Jasmine smiled kindly, and took his hand. "Trust me. Even he cannot deny the law."
He sighed, then answered, "ok."