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"Your Highness, the woman is here," the maid said, bowing low. There was a slight emphasis on the word 'woman' that made it sound like an insult.
Maram set down her sewing, already inclined to be grateful to Aladdin's mother. She'd never much liked sewing, but she'd needed to do something with her hands to still her impatience. Now the search was over, she could stop. "Is she alone?"
"Yes, Princess."
Maram fought to hide her disappointment. "See that she is served refreshments while she waits. I will be there directly."
Maram chose her favourite gown, a jewelled thing that impressed even the richest kings, for this audience, and struggled not to tap her foot with impatience as her maids dressed her. Her reflection was quite dazzling to behold, Maram fancied, turning this way and that in front of her mirror. Too dazzling for a woman Aladdin had described as a simple spinner?
Of course it was.
She ordered her maids to bring her the plainest gown she owned. Maram should have known better. They brought her a gown of a purple so deep, it appeared black, with a matching veil. Tiny glass beads sewn onto it only helped complete the illusion, for they were invisible against the black. To the casual observer, she appeared to be in deep mourning, but once light hit the fabric, it glimmered like the starry sky over the desert. It was far from plain, but it would have to do.
When her maids had made sure the veil covered all but her eyes, as befitted a princess at a public audience, Maram headed out of her apartment into the palace proper.
As she approached the room where she'd asked Aladdin's mother to be shown to, she heard raised voices. No, one raised voice – a wailing woman, rising over the softer male voices in the room.
Maram's heart constricted in her chest. Had something happened to Aladdin? No, surely not. She stepped into the room, unnoticed.
A woman in black rose up onto her knees, clutching the hem of a guard's tunic in her white-knuckled hands. "Please, tell me what you have done with my son. He's a good boy, he would not do anything to offend the Sultan. Take me instead!" She collapsed on the floor, sobbing, before she accosted the other guard with a similar plea.
Neither guard seemed to know what to do with the woman, and they both looked relieved to see Maram.
"You may go," Maram said, then surveyed the room. "Where are the refreshments I asked for? See that they are brought here immediately."
"Yes, Your Highness." The two men bowed and hurried out.
The woman threw herself full length on the floor before Maram. "Your Highness, please have mercy on a poor mother. Tell me why you have imprisoned my son."
"Aladdin is in prison?"
The woman let out a wail. "It is a mistake, a misunderstanding! My son would never do anything to offend the Sultan!"
Maram shook her head. "Mistress, please, get up. Tell me what has happened to Aladdin."
The woman rose to her knees, wiping her eyes with her veil. Hers was black, though so threadbare Maram could see through it. "I do not know. He left to find work, as he does every morning, but he did not return. No one has seen him. Then some guards came to my humble house and told me to come with them to answer questions about my son. Please, Your Highness, tell me what he has done!"
Maram beckoned one of the guards back into the room. He stood in the doorway, reluctant to enter any further. "Send a man to the prisons, to see if a man named Aladdin is held there, and if he is, find out what his crime may be."
The man bowed deeply. "I will, Your Highness, but we already checked there. There is no prisoner of that name anywhere in the city. The only Aladdin we could find is reputed to be this woman's son, so we brought her. As she said, the man has not been seen for days."
Maram nodded and dismissed him. "Mistress...please, can you tell me your name?"
"This humble mother is called Sadaf, Your Highness."
"Mistress Sadaf, please, sit with me." Maram gestured to the table where – finally! – the food and drink had been laid out. She gestured for one of the maids to shut the door behind her and Maram was alone with Aladdin's mother. Only then did she unwind her veil so that Aladdin's mother might see her face.
Sadaf crept timidly to the cushion Maram indicated, still not raising her eyes to Maram's face.
Maram settled on her own cushion. "Mistress Sadaf, I have invited you here to..." What could she say? She wanted to ask where Aladdin had been since that day in the bathhouse, but if she had no idea where he was... "I wish to ask about your son," Maram said finally. "Is it possible that he has left the city?"
Sadaf shook her head. "Aladdin has never stepped out of the city gates, Your Highness. He was born here, and he has never left. So when he did not come home, I thought..." She covered her mouth, but not fast enough to hold in a sob.
"We will find him," Maram said, though she had no idea how. If her father's men hadn't found him inside the city by now, it stood to reason that he was either not in the city or he was dead. No, surely not dead.
Sadaf burst into noisy tears. "Thank you, Your Highness. I do not know what we have done to earn such kindness, but if there is anything I can do to repay you, tell me, and it is yours."
"If he returns...when he returns," Maram corrected herself, "Send him to the palace to see me."
