Love Of The Sultan

Crimson Reflection

Phase three in obsessive compulsive story re-write. Progress: 30%

Enjoy!

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Chapter 3 - Crimson Reflection

This was it. I was going to leave today and nobody would stop me. Amal met me during the night and it branched from there on how we where to leave. I started to shake. He told me not to take anything but the clothes on my back which right now, where servants clothing. I removed any trace of make-up and put dark colour on my face to conceal my skin colour. I worn a niqaab the same as how the other servants would wear it and started work in the kitchen. The guards patrolled a few times around the kitchen quarters and where careful not to leave their eyes lingering on the women. True respect.

I washed a few cooking utensils while it was the end of the day. With this amount of servants it was easy for anybody not to recognise me and cook up lies. The guarding seemed to be tighter ever since that stunt I pulled a while ago. It has already been half an hour since I've been working and I was starting to worry if anybody noticed my disappearance.

The work of a servant proved to be hard. I know being a princess, you sat around all day, studied, read and did whatever your heart desired. Manual labour, to feed your children proved to kill me and I have only been here for half an hour. With an exception of 10 minutes to find the working area and get into place. The head maid proved to be horrible. A fat woman who occaisonally stood into work ordering us around making sure that everything was perfect. She was the boil on my back of which I had to be careful.

The big stout woman proved to be big due to the excessive amount of children she has conceived. I rolled my eyes at that thought, I would never be like her. If there was a single duty you did that was not in her taste or done to perfection, she would reprimand you. That also brings me to her short temper. I called her Qybah (arabic for b*tch) for her short temper and easy agitation. I wanted to throw a rock at the womans head.

Qybah did her usual rounds down the line. She paused at me and looked at me up and down. "Good work, what is your name?" she asked, her voice was stern and her voice; questioning. "Umme-Kulthum" I replied moments after. She raised a brow "A name of a daughter of the prophet" she smiled and walked down the line.

Soon we where being lead out of the palace by a swarm of guards and dispersed onto the streets. I started to look around at stalls that passes. All of the beautiful clothing, the jewellry and the food. I saw stalls and stalls of cashews, rice, dates and so many other trades. The streets where sand coloured filled with sandy buildings and the lesser streets where cramped. I decided to stay on the main ones so that I wouldn't get lost.

Amal briefly told me where to meet him; the large stand selling tobacco. Curving my way through to another street I started to inquire. The men hardly acknowledged me so I started to ask women who returned pointed looks. I probably looked out of place, everyone knew the streets and I barelt even grazed them.

Deep down I know running away won't resolve anythng but I'm certain that my father can resolve things. I'm pretty sure he is taking the easy road by handing me over. I heard him tell white lies before and this was probably one of them. I want to leave from here and I don't care whether god punishes me, I can repent. It was against rules anyway, they need my consent which is probably why they are having a hard time with me. Soon they will go to more extreme measures and I don't want to be around when they do.

A hand grabbed onto my arm, my eyes widened with fear as my heart dropped in my chest, my life flashed before my eyes as suddenly the sound of the entire market seemed to dim and all I could register was my pounding heartbeat.

"Princess" a voice called behind me and I knew I had been found, I knew they where going to take me back to the palace and that they where going to take me back to the sultan and he would tell me more about how he won.

I turned back to look at the person who had their grip on my arm only to see a guard from the palace, people stopped and stared at the scene not realising I was the princess but probably thought I was a criminal.

"Come along wife" the guard said, catching my by surprise, I looked at his face as he dragged me by my arm in the same direction in which I was going. I scanned his face to see what was going on.

"What are you doing" I whispered as the people dispersed into their normal routine around us. The man carried on dragging me down the street until we where somewhere more secluded, all the while I struggled in his grasp, heart pounding whilst I realised the true dangers of being out in the street away from protection. I was vulnerable.

"Amal asked for me to guide you" the guard said as we reached a nearly empty street, "wall behind me and keep your head down, I will lead you to him" he said and I started to grow sceptical.

"I don't know a man named Amal, where have you taken me? I have to go home." I said not trusting this guard, Amal would have told me if he was planning to do this, so I started to speed walk in the other direction.

"Princess!" They called out and I lifted the skirt of my abaya slightly and began to run down to the end of the street, the guard gaining speed behind me as I frantically looked behind to make sure he wasn't getting close. I ran back into the market which was still surrounded by people and tried to blend in with the women. I saw the guard emerge and turned away so that he wouldn't see me.

I knew I couldn't trust the guards, I trusted Amal and knew that he would tell me if there was a change in the plan. By the look of things, the palace was probably aware that I'm missing, but why did that one guard come after me? Could it be the sultan sending that guard out? Was he already aware before my family was? He couldn't be one step ahead of me could he?

If it was my father then then he would have sent the entire palace out and probably put the city on lockdown. Maybe this was an inconspicuous way for him to reach out to me without letting the