“Who were you? Where did you live?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I stand up, dropping the lemon, and turn to look down on the city. “It’s too hot out here. Let’s go inside. I’ll teach you how to properly enter a room based on who is already there, and whether they are sitting, standing, or eating.”
Aladdin groans. “I’m sick of playing prince. Let’s pick pockets.”
“No.”
“Wait a minute, Smoky...” He leans in close to study me, mimicking Jalil’s habit of raising one eyebrow ridiculously high when suspicious. I can’t help it—his expression makes me giggle—actuallygiggle, like a little girl. “Do you even knowhowto pick pockets?”
“Of course I do,” I lie. “I’ve picked a thousand and one—”
“Yes, yes, you’ve done it all a thousand times, I get it.” He raises a doubtful brow. “So prove it.”
•••
“Him,” Aladdin murmurs. “The one with the feather on his hat. He’s got a pipe in his left pocket.”
We’re in the palace gardens, pretending to admire a massive statue of King Malek. Many nobles are out today, lounging around the pools and fountains, strolling beneath the shade of the trees. Nearly as vast as the palace itself, the gardens spread in a luxurious carpet of green, organized in perfect symmetry. One could walk for hours out here and never find the end of them.
Our target is a man a bit older than Aladdin, walking in our direction. We stand in a more secluded spot. Our back is to him, and when he passes behind us, Aladdin coughs.
I turn and run straight into the man and quickly slip my hand into his pocket, but the pipe is too deep to reach.
“You clumsy wench—Gods above! Are you trying torobme, girl?” The nobleman seizes my wrist and yanks it from his pocket. My hand comes up with the pipe clenched in it. I stare at him, horrified.
“I...”
We’re standing by a tall, neatly trimmed hedge, and without another word I grab the nobleman and drag him into the bushes with me; we burst through the other side into a private clearing populated with small, half-tame deer, which startle and flee. Surrounded by tall shrubs and trees, we’re hidden from view of anyone else walking by.
“I’ll have your head for this!” the man rages. “I’ll have you whipped!”
Aladdin climbs through the hedge after us. I’m gripping the man by his coat, while he spits curses at me, his face turning bright red and his beard flecked with spittle.
“What are you doing?” hisses Aladdin.
“I don’t know!” I stare at him helplessly. “I panicked!”
Rolling his eyes, Aladdin turns to the man. “Shut it, will you?”
“I’ve never been so—mph!”
Aladdin clasps a hand over his mouth, holding him in a headlock. “Easy, old man. Gods, we’re not going to murder you.”
I let go of him and let out a long breath. The man ceases struggling and glares hard at me.
“All right, listen up,” Aladdin says. “See, this is all part of a game.A sort of treasure hunt. It was all Prince Darian’s idea, I might add. Between you and me”—he drops his voice to a whisper—“I think he’s a bit insane. But if you want to complain, talk to him. I’m sure he’d be reasonable about it. I’m going to let you go now. Don’t yell, or I might have to gag you and let you sit here till dark.”
Slowly he releases the man, who whirls angrily but doesn’t shout out. He straightens his hat and coat, looking from Aladdin to me.
“I never... Young people these days!”
“Yes, we’re a rotten lot,” agrees Aladdin. “Go on, now. If you run into Darian, be sure to give him a piece of your mind.”
The man hurries off with many backward glances, his face still red. Then Aladdin lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his face.
“I got the pipe,” I say, holding it up.
He stares for a minute, blinking, and then bursts into laughter. A few curious deer stick their heads through the shrubs to see what the racket is. Aladdin doubles over, laughing loud enough to startle birds from the trees overhead, and after a moment, I start laughing too. I haven’t laughed this hard in a long, long while, and it feels wonderful. We sit on the grass and laugh until our faces are red and we’re out of breath.
