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The old woman nodded approval and sent off a messenger.
Amanda pulled a robe over her nakedness and sat down to wait for whatever was going to eventuate. She felt totally dispirited. The one-veil idea was a disaster and she was only too aware that her ability to outdance the woman from the Fisa bazaar was pure fantasy. She closed her eyes and imagined the blistering scorn in Xa Shiraq’s. She prayed for mercy.
A hubbub from the harem women aroused her attention. A small, sharp-nosed woman was being ushered into the salon of the royal quarters. She was brought to Amanda and introduced by the old woman who had sent for her.
‘This is Gaia. She is the best one-veil designer in Alcabab. She has a national and international reputation.’
Gaia’s eyes were as sharp as her nose. She made a shrewd appraisal of Amanda as she bowed. Then she stepped back and clapped her hands. It was the signal for an entourage of models to parade in a dazzling variety of single veils
, long flowing designs that hid all and revealed everything.
Amanda ruefully realised how amateurish her own efforts must have seemed compared to the sophisticated creations that were being displayed for her benefit. She should have asked for help sooner.
As the last of twenty models filed past, Gaia came forward to inquire, ‘Which design would the princess prefer?’
Amanda shook her head, too dazed to make a decisive selection. They were all superb, far beyond anything she could conceive.
‘You are right,’ Gaia declared, bewildering Amanda with this interpretation of her silence. ‘If you are to win the sheikh’s heart forever, Princess, only the best will do.’
Like a grand impresario she snapped her fingers and the door to the salon opened once more. A solitary figure entered. All the women gasped in awe and admiration.
‘This model,’ Gaia said, ‘is based upon the exact replica of the one worn by the Queen of Sheba when she arrived at the court of King Solomon.’
It was a brilliant scarlet, looped gracefully over one shoulder where it was fastened by an elaborate gold brooch. From the brooch there fell a rainburst of gold thread, running in cunning diagonals around the model’s body, emphasising and highlighting every feminine curve.
‘For you, Princess, it can be copied in shimmering shades of blues and greens with a silver accent,’ Gaia assured her. ‘May I respectfully suggest that it is not only appropriate for you to be so dressed, but also essential?’
Palace gossip must have been running hot, Amanda thought. Probably everyone was more aware of what was really going on than she was. But the outfit was absolutely stunning. Amanda felt a stirring of excitement. And hope.
‘We use a little artifice,’ Gaia explained. ‘An invisible stitch here. An invisible stitch there. Men are so transported by what they see, they never notice.’
‘I believe it,’ Amanda agreed. A man wouldn’t be human if he paused to deliberate on the engineering skills that had put this little number together.
‘We have little time, and much to do,’ Gaia prompted. ‘A design such as this has to be fitted. I have brought my best invisible stitcher with me. The art is to get the best result with the minimum of interference to the natural flowing of the drapery.
‘Legend has it that Solomon was so taken by the Queen of Sheba, he granted her all she desired,’ Gaia continued. ‘Your entrance to the sheikh’s quarters must effect the same result so that legend can repeat itself.’
‘I hope so,’ Amanda said fervently.
‘Come with me,’ Gaia demanded, leading Amanda into the next room where her assistants waited with the necessary materials for Amanda’s requirements. ‘My art must remain a secret,’ Gaia explained, closing the door on the harem women.
Amanda’s robe was quickly removed. She was draped in shimmering blues and greens, the material measured for the length needed for the design. Busy hands fluttered around her, tucking, adjusting, smoothing.
Gaia pointed to a bolt of midnight blue silk taffeta. ‘You will require a cloak. This will be most suitable. We shall attach a hood so that your initial presentation will be one of hidden mystery.’
Amanda eagerly agreed to the idea. ‘Who pays for all of this?’ she asked a little nervously.
‘No...o...o problem. I will invoice the palace.’
More crimes, Amanda thought, but she had no choice but to put herself completely into Gaia’s hands. She needed all the help she could get.
Under Gaia’s private ministrations, Amanda found the time flying all too rapidly. In between fittings of the veil and the cloak she attended to the rest of her appearance. She bathed and had her hair washed and dried and brushed until it shone and felt like silk. The harem women persuaded her to have her body rubbed with a lotion that made her skin glow. Her nails were manicured and varnished an opalescent pink. She eschewed exotic make-up in favour of a subtle highlighting of her eyes and a lip gloss that matched the colour of her nails.
‘What of the dance?’ Gaia asked. ‘Do you need instruction?’
It was clearly in Gaia’s interests that Amanda did not let the designer down by failing in other areas.
‘I have a plan,’ Amanda answered, projecting a confidence she didn’t really feel. She knew there simply weren’t enough hours to turn her into a skilled dancer, no matter how masterly the instruction. What happened between her and Xa Shiraq would depend on a dance of the mind and heart.
