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Maman scrutinised his face. "You do not seem surprised that one of the Sultan's daughters would summon me, or leave a message for you."
Now he'd done it. "I met her once in the marketplace. She was very gracious."
"What was a princess doing in the bazaar?"
He could answer this without incriminating himself too much. "She had just returned from a long journey abroad, and she was on her way to the bathhouse."
"Princesses do not..." Maman's eyes widened. "Most princesses do not. Only one does. The Traitor Queen's daughter, the witch the Sultan sends abroad to enchant foreign princes." Maman shook her head. "No wonder she is so beautiful and yet unmarried. What man would want a wife who has known more men than she can count – and foreigners, at that? Unwashed, uncouth, unmannered, with no idea of proper behaviour...and they eat the strangest things!"
No stranger than Gwandoya, though he was a foreigner, too, from southern lands instead of those in the north from whence the crusaders came. But Aladdin didn't want to think about the madman. His thoughts were of Maram, and his mother's slight to the lovely woman.
"What man would deserve her," he corrected. "Beautiful, enchanting, gracious, and the Sultan's daughter. Every man desires her, whether she wills it or no. But it is her father who will not allow her to marry. She is too valuable as an envoy to ever be free."
"Careful, my son. It sounds like you are under her spell, too. If she is forbidden to marry as you say, then you risk heartbreak even thinking about her. Forget her."
Aladdin shook his head. "I cannot. And if she gave you a message for me, then she has not forgotten me, either. Maman, please tell me...what did Princess Maram say?"
She sighed. "She wanted me to tell you to present yourself at the palace, saying she commanded you to do so. But I fear that if you do, it will only result in your doom. If you are lucky, the palace guards will turn you away. If you are not lucky...it is only a matter of time before the princess tires of you, and she will have you killed or imprisoned without hesitation. Please, I beg you, do not do as she asks."
Aladdin nodded slowly. "You are wiser than you know, Maman. The palace guards will never admit a street rat into the Sultan's palace. But you have been allowed in. You have dined with the princess herself. You must go to the palace, and present a gift to the Sultan for me. If he likes my gift, then you will ask the Sultan to summon me, so that I might beg for the hand of his daughter."
"No, I cannot. The Sultan will not see me...and what gift can you possibly offer that he will accept?"
Aladdin held out a cloth-shrouded bundle, peeling the layers away to reveal the treasure beneath. A small, jewelled shrub, perhaps two handspans in diameter, glittered in the lamplight. Each berry was made up of a cluster of amethysts so dark they almost seemed black, a stark contrast to the mother-of-pearl petalled blossoms. Together with the green agate leaves, the whole thing weighed far more than a shrub should, but Aladdin thought his mother could manage it. "Give this to the Sultan as my gift, and tell him that if he allows me to make Princess Maram my bride, I will give him a whole garden of trees and bushes such as this."
"I will take it to the Sultan, and we shall see what he says," she said doubtfully. "As long as you are sure this is what you want."
Aladdin laughed. "Maman, I have never been so sure of anything. This will work. I am certain of it."
SEVENTEEN
Father had assembled what looked like his entire court, Maram reflected as she surveyed the crowded audience chamber. Ali the Vizier and horrible Hasan stood triumphantly on the dais at what would be her father's right hand, which was why she stood as far to the left as she could. But she wasn't hiding – even if she could in such a garish dress. The rose coloured gown and matching veil were richly embroidered in silver and gold. A diamond necklace matched the jewelled fillet that held her veil in place. Despite their magnificence, her diamonds were a calculated insult. She'd inherited them from her mother and they were well known, for the former Sultana had worn them to court as often as she attended.
Maram felt Hasan's eyes on her as her father's herald announced the Sultan's arrival.
Her father had a smile for her that she happily returned. Never mind that he wanted her to marry the wrong man – he had her happiness in mind, however misplaced his plans for it might be. No matter. Maram would make plans of her own.
The Sultan reached the dais and commanded the court to rise. This took a moment, as many had prostrated themselves and clothing had to be straightened. When the susurrus of silk-smoothing had died down, Father cleared his throat. "My subjects, before I hear today's petitions, I have happy news to share with you. My daughter, Princess Maram, is engaged to marry Vizier Ali's son, Hasan. The wedding will take place once Hasan has finished building a palace suitable to house my favourite daughter."
Hasan's grin died as he stared at the Sultan in horror. Ah, Father had not warned him earlier, it seemed. Maram made no effort to hide her triumphant smile as she surveyed the cheering crowd. A royal wedding meant a feast, and an excuse to show off their finery, with perhaps the opportunity to win favours from the celebrating Sultan or the newlyweds.
Only one pair of eyes appeared as shocked as Hasan's – that of Aladdin's mother, Sadaf. She stood at the back of the crowd, barely visible behind the more pushy petitioners, but she met Maram's gaze as squarely as though the two women were equals, so great was her shock.
When the cheering died down, Maram excused herself and made her way through the crowd to where she'd seen Sadaf. She needed to speak to the woman, to ask if her son had returned.
Yet when she reached the back of the audience chamber, Sadaf was nowhere in sight. Maram hurried outside, hoping to catch the woman before she left.
"You arrogant bitch. When you are my wife, I will see that you learn your place," a voice behind her snarled.
Ah, Hasan. He'd followed her out here.
"If I become your wife. You forget you have a palace to build first," Maram returned. There were a dozen guardsmen within hearing distance – if Hasan so much as touched her, they would arrest him in an instant at her command. But if she married him...he'd probably try to beat her to death. Try, and succeed.
"I'll build a brothel for the likes of you. That should be good enough for the whore to foreign pigs."
More than ever, Maram regretted letting this man live. Not for long. She'd find an assassin before sunset.
Maram smiled sweetly. "Build as many brothels as you wish. I'm sure you will need all the money you can muster to build a palace that meets my expectations. Oh, did my father not tell you? When he said you must build a palace fit for a princess, it is this very princess who will judge its quality. My place will be a palace as befits my high station. Whether it is my father's palace or yours will be up to you." She scanned the square, but it seemed that Sadaf had disappeared.
