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She walked outside into the heat, the sun painting the sky pink as it began to set on the horizon. And there was Cairo. Standing there with a man in robes. And there was a horse beside him, with a garland around his neck. As if he too had been dressed for the wedding. He looked at her, his gaze filled with heat, and she couldn’t help but be swept away in the moment.
“My moon,” he said. “Give me your hands.”
She did so. And the officiant handed him two cuffs. He put them on her wrists. Then the officiant handed him the necklace, and he fastened it around her neck.
And what he took out next was not a crown, but a simple circle of gems, with a teardrop ruby at the center. And slowly, very carefully, he pinned it to her hair, the gem resting at the center of her forehead. Where he had touched her with his thumb that day in the ballroom.
“And now we can begin,” he said.
The officiant then took the red silk scarf and bound their hands together. But this was not a rehearsal. This was real. They were real.
“With your mind. With your mouth. With your heart. Obey me.” She found herself nodding as he made the commandments, as he touched her with his thumb. And then she returned the proclamation. “With your thoughts. With your words. With your heart.”
“And though we now remove the scarf,” the officiant said. “The words have bonded you. Hold hands through life, but remember, even when you let go, these promises are meant to keep you, bound to one another. Bound to your union, to your commitment. There is nothing that can undo a spiritual bond such as this one. You are husband and wife. And there is none but death that can separate you. And even then, your souls will find one another amongst the stars.”
And he released the scarf from around their hands. But she could still feel it there. And they held on to each other still.
“Thank you,” Cairo said. “I trust you will file all necessary paperwork upon your return?”
“Yes. Though I will have it sent to no school until your brother’s fire cools. And I will remain in Turkey until that point.”
“I do not blame you. Thank you again.”
And then suddenly she found herself being swept up onto the back of a horse. She gasped as Cairo lifted her from the ground and set her in front of him. And with a decisive, masculine command, he spurred the horse into a gallop. And on they went. He held on to her, his arm around her waist as they tore through the desert sand, a cloud of earth billowing behind them. She couldn’t have asked him what they were doing if she wanted to. He wouldn’t have been able to hear her over the sound of the hoofbeats, and she wouldn’t have been able to shout it into the rushing wind.
They rode across the sands, away from the house, away from everything. And the farther and farther they got from everyone else, the more it felt... Right. The less she felt a prisoner. And then she saw it, in the distance, just as the sun dipped entirely behind the mountain and blanketed the earth in darkness.
There was a stake and a feeding trough set out there for the horse, and a bonfire lit there as well. There was a spread of food next to it. And she had a feeling that whoever had set it up must have just vacated, as it might otherwise have been a target for animals.
“And here is where we will spend our wedding night,” he said, bringing the horse to a stop.
But it was the tent that caught her focus. Large and elaborate, with brightly colored tapestries all along the outside.
She could feel his heart raging behind her, and her own beats in a fiery response.
“Why?” It was the only thing she could think to say. And she wasn’t sure why it mattered. But she was curious. Why not go to the sumptuously appointed rooms back there?
“Because the desert has always called to us, has it not?”
Her heart surged in rebuttal of that statement. “I used to hate it here.”
“No. You didn’t. You hated feeling bound in the face of such wildness. But you are not. Not with me. Here we are free.”
He helped her off the horse, and then took their steed and tied him to the wooden post outside. Then he took her hand and led her inside the tent. The tent was one large room with a star shape on the roof, and a hanging lantern made of fractured glass at the center. There was a large, sumptuously appointed bed at the center of it. Scarves hanging around the frame. It was entirely there for sex. And she had a feeling so was Cairo. The dress that he had chosen for her certainly suggested that. “There is an oasis just past the tent. There may be animals at it, but they will not bother us.”
“Why do you think that? Because you’re with me?”
“Yes. And they would not dare.” He began to take his clothing off, slowly, and she watched him, rapt. He took his white shirt off first, exposing acres of bronzed muscle. His abdominal muscles shifted as he began to undo his belt, as he took his shoes off and everything else, leaving him completely naked to her gaze. And aroused. He was glorious. A warrior made into sensual reality right before her. His arousal was strong and thick, his thighs well-muscled. And everything feminine within her reacted to the sight of him.
“Take off your dress. And then we will walk to the oasis.”
“What?”
“You have wanted to walk naked in the desert this entire time. You want to be like this in the open. It excites you.”
And she felt ashamed just then. Only slightly. But why? Why should she? She had never known what to do with her sexuality, because it had never felt like it was entirely her own. She had been put in a situation where she was meant to give herself to a man she hadn’t chosen. And when she did meet a man she actually cared for... He was forbidden to her. And then she had thought he was gone and...
It just wasn’t easy. Any of this. It was terrifying and exciting all at once.
