In the winding streets of the Persian Empire, a poor girl is chosen to become the third prince's concubine.
Aliya Farhad has no interest in the lofty ideas of the palace, the staff, or her lover. Prince Cairo has all the interest in his blue-eyed A...
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"IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK," Maryam said. "I'm not pregnant."
I gave no comment, and turned my gaze onto her belly, as if by doing so I would be able to see past the layers of coats and clothing she had piled on and spot a baby within a perfectly flat stomach.
"You haven't done anything stupid, have you?"
Maryam paused, "Not the one you're thinking."
"But not something I'd approve, I imagine," I said wryly, leaning back onto the pillows. Beside me, Maryam copied my actions.
"Aliya," she said, nuzzling into the pillows, "I wanted to tell you that I'm in love."
I stared at her. "Maryam, you're young. Not in love."
She shook her head. "You don't understand."
"No, I understand perfectly," I said, shaking my head. "Maryam, it is just the Palace. It is just the idea of novelty that you love. The thrill. The excitement of a love affair. You don't love him."
The corner of Maryam's lips quirked. She had always smiled a lot, but now, it looked more like a snarky smirk. "How would you know?"
"What else could it be?" I asked, sighing. "Maryam, don't be stupid. Don't do things you will regret. How long will this emotion last you? A few more weeks or months and you will see that it is not love."
For a moment, Maryam was silent, before she said, "I cannot tell if you doubt me or if you doubt him. Do you feel that I am unlovable?"
I frowned. "That's not what I meant. He might love you. For now. But love does not last forever, Maryam, and furthermore, you do not love him."
"I didn't realize you were able to read my emotions so that you know whether or not I am in love with someone," she said.
My frown grew deeper. "Maryam, listen to me. Women like us who have been confined in the Palace -- we aren't fated for love. This is a novelty. Do not forget; you are property of Prince Finn now. You do not havethe freedom to love, be it the prince or anyone else."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Maria busy herself near the wardrobe, head down like an invisible ghost who had gone deaf. A perceptive girl.
"Maryam, we are only potential concubines. We do not even have an official title. What right do we have to talk about love?"
"So you believe Ahmad's feelings for me are fake?"
"How would I know whether they are fake or not? But Maryam, it does not matter."
"Why doesn't it matter?" Sitting up, Maryam raised her voice. "Should I resign myself to a life with nothing? To being nothing? Isn't it better to be loved? If I stay here, I won't even be respected; much less loved. Am I not even more pitiful in this way?"
