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So he strode out of the alley and down the main street, toward the markets, but with no idea what to do. Such was the story of his life. His father had insisted he learn to read and write, and assess the quality of goods for when Aladdin followed in his father's footsteps as a merchant. But his father had died before Aladdin was old enough to take over the business, and his mother had sold all their goods just to survive, leaving them with nothing. Not even a trade Aladdin could follow to earn a living, for he was too old to apprentice and besides, no tradesman would take him without money to pay for his board. Money his mother no longer had.
So Aladdin walked through the market, seeing good silk and bad, brass polished to look like gold and gold so dirty it looked like cheap brass, food fit for the Sultan's table and stuff even a starving goat would turn its nose up at, but he could afford none of it. He was a merchant's son turned street rat, and his mother earned more money with her spinning than he did waiting all day to be hired for a day's labour that he was never offered.
He made it to the other end of the market without realising, only to find the street full of guards. "Make way for the princess!" one shouted, shoving a camel driver under the feet of his own lead beast.
Guards who would happily let a merchant be trampled wouldn't care if they killed some street rat, Aladdin knew, so he ducked into the nearest building – the city's oldest bathhouse. He ignored the sign that said the place was closed, and shouldered open the door. The shadows inside were cooler than the street, and he could hide here until the guards went past.
It wasn't as though a princess would enter a public bathhouse. The Sultan's precious daughters undoubtedly bathed in the confines of the harem, where no man could gaze upon their virgin beauty.
One of the guards must have seen him, though, because the door was thrown open. Aladdin hurried to find some deeper shadows to hide in. He found an alcove where the staff kept the towels, and ducked behind a towering pile of cloth. Surely no one would look for him there.
"You may go," a deep feminine voice said grandly. A voice Aladdin heard in his very soul.
Booted footsteps trooped outside at her command.
A princess who used a public bathhouse? This he had to see. Unable to resist, Aladdin peeped around the towels.
A veiled woman stood beside the pool while her female servants busied themselves fetching cloths and bowls of water to bathe their mistress before she immersed herself in the mineral bath.
One came into his alcove, and Aladdin had to dive behind the towels again, though he doubted the serving girl saw him in the dark. But if the princess was going to bathe, he'd best get out before someone saw him. He couldn't have picked a worse hiding place if he'd tried. Aladdin pressed his eye to a crack in the shutters, hoping the streets would be clear enough to allow him to escape.
No such luck. The street was filled with the princess's guards, who would capture him the moment they saw him. Peeping at the princess, however unintentionally, carried a death penalty they wouldn't hesitate to carry out.
So he had to stay put, and wait the woman out. Once everyone left, then he could leave.
He settled on the tile floor. It was more comfortable than the alley where he'd spent more days than he could count.
"There. Leave me. I will summon you when I have need of you." The princess's voice echoed through the bathhouse, amplified by some sort of magic so that it seemed she spoke beside him.
Aladdin crept to the entrance of his alcove again, curious.
Four veiled women bowed, then left, and Aladdin's heart stopped as he beheld the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The curve of her shoulders, enticing his eyes to travel down the crease of her spine to her peach-shaped bottom. His hands itched to touch her, to see if her skin was as soft as a peach. He'd eaten the fruit in his childhood, but it had been many years since he'd done more than look at them longingly in the market.
But never as longingly as he looked at this woman now. A princess he had no right to stare at, though he could not drag his eyes away as she descended the shallow steps into the pool. She ducked under the surface of the water, then came up and flipped onto her back, stealing Aladdin's breath as he caught sight of her breasts. Fruit from heaven, surely, so round and perfect. This princess's body was a priceless treasure none but the highest of men deserved to possess. Maybe not even then.
Aladdin buried his face in his hands. He deserved to die for what he'd seen. But if he did, he would die happy.
"Step out of the shadows, where I can see you," the princess commanded.
One of her attendants had stayed, Aladdin guessed. He ducked back behind his towels, where the woman would not see him.
"Do you really want me to summon my guards to drag you out? Come, now, man. You have seen your fill of me, so it is only fair that you let me at least see your face."
Aladdin risked a peek around the towels, to find the princess's dark eyes fixed on his hiding place.
She spread her arms wide. "I am unarmed, as you see. I will not harm you."
Just looking at her condemned him to death, but Aladdin knew he'd already sealed his fate. Fixing his gaze on her face, he took three tentative steps into the space before he fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor. "Your Highness, my humblest apologies for my disrespect. I sought to clear the road to let your entourage pass, only to find myself trapped in here. Why does one of the Sultan's daughters do such honour to a common bathhouse?"
Her laughter was low and musical, bouncing off the walls and straight into Aladdin's heart. He never reacted this way to anyone.
"This is no common bathhouse. This is the first bathhouse built in the city by one of my ancestors. Better than anything in the palace, I assure you."
It was Aladdin's turn to laugh, and the walls boomed the sound back at him. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. Anyone outside had surely heard him.
The princess did not sound worried. "They won't come in unless I call. They are my attendants, and they serve me."
"What kind of princess are you?" he burst out.
