Siren of the Desert

*~Chapter eleven (Hamam)~*

*~Chapter eleven (Hamam)~*

Maria dunked her head under the water, making sure every hair on her head was wetted. Rose petals clung to her hair and body as she surfaced for air.

She was eternally grateful to Shahrazad for insisting she bathed in the harem's hamam -although she would never actually tell her. The hamam was a spacious cavern-like room. Almost all of the white-tiled floor was a bathing pool from which clouds of steam rose, filling up the entire place. At first glance, it had seemed to her a pool filled with red and pink roses rather than water. Plant pots were randomly placed around it and the hamam. Embroidered towels hung on the walls. She also noticed that many pairs of slippers were randomly scattered about. In the corner sat a fountain that had tiled seats built around it. When she rested her head against the edge of the pool, she saw that the roof was a large decorated dome that had small multi-coloured glass windows. Burning lanterns hung from the roof and from the walls, casting shadows.

She hated to admit it to herself, but she was –although very slightly—enjoying this particular luxurious bath. She'd never enjoyed anything similar before. Shahrazad had personally scrubbed her every nook and cranny using a pleasantly scented soap —in spite of her loud protests and much to her embarrassment—washed her hair. Then she had left her to soak in the water and to her thoughts.

As before, her thoughts revolved around the Sheikh of Malamar.

Maria violently shook her head and splashed water on her face. Why was it that she thought of him with every minute she had to herself? She'd only personally known him a day!

It's because I'm currently at his mercy, so she told herself. Indeed, she had no other choice but to think long and hard of Zain, her situation and —most importantly—how to escape it. Maria exhaled all the air in her lungs then started to sing in a feeble attempt to calm her shrivelled nerves and to hold her fears at bay lest they crushed her.

"Come out before you start to shrivel. You've soaked enough." Shahrazad called after some time, interrupting her singing. In her hand, she held a large towel. She did as instructed. Water dripping from her, she walked into Shahrazad's waiting towel and allowed herself to be patted dry, albeit reluctantly.

She decided to ask a question that had been nagging at her for some time now, "Where are the...concubines?"

"Asleep." Shahrazad replied, then held her eyes as she continued, saying, "We have strict rules regarding bedtime and many other things, as you'll soon find out."

"Oh, I have no intention of staying long enough to find out," she said confidently, although inwardly she was anything but. She didn't even know how she'd begin to plan an escape, let alone execute one. She hadn't seen a single window throughout the harem. The place, it seemed, was sealed off from the rest of the house, as harems were usually built. There was only one door, and only one man had the key to it.

Shahrazad ignored Maria and steered her by the shoulders to an adjacent room. It was a dressing room that consisted only of multiple dressers and clothes chests. She sat her down at the first dresser and started to dry her hair using another, smaller towel. She watched her work in the mirror.

"You haven't told me your name yet," Shahrazad commented and met her eyes in the mirror expectantly.

She first pretended to yawn before conspicuously brushing away the tears from the corners of her eyes. She hoped Shahrazad wouldn't detect the lump in her throat when she said, "I do not plan to."

At that, Shahrazad raised an eyebrow questioningly, "You have a lot of plans and intentions. I do wonder how you can keep up with them all. Out of general curiosity, why?" Maria only shrugged in response.

She thought that, by concealing her name from Zain, she would be protecting her father. He had seemed very intent of finding out her true identity. For this very reason, she feared for her father. By keeping quiet, she'd at the very least be delaying whatever that bastard Zain had in store for him. He hadn't taken her confession very lightly. She very much feared that her disguise had offended him[MM94] and that he would seek to retribute everyone involved and had aided in it. He would undoubtedly try to find out her true identity by investigating and asking around town. She knew that it was only a matter of time before he found out who she really was.

A heavy sense of pressing doom descended on her like a cloud of toxic miasma.

Shahrazad went to the nearest chest and extracted a roll of white thread. Maria glanced at her eyebrows in the mirror and then swallowed audibly. "Please, no." she whimpered.

Shahrazad chuckled lightly. She said as she unrolled the thread, "You're quite the amusing girl. There's not a dull moment with you." Then she added, "I can see why Zain wants you. Now hold still."

"Shahrazad."

Shahrazad was busy applying cream to Maria's 'extremely dry, unladylike' hands when they heard his voice. She shot up to her feet, dropping the towel that had been on her lap to the floor. She didn't take notice.

He'd finally returned.

Before she could mindlessly spring out of the dressing room to him in her state of complete nudity, Shahrazad tossed her a rose-coloured nightgown which she hurriedly slipped into.

When she went to the entertainment room, she found him waiting by the door. At the sight of him, her breath snagged in her throat. In spite of who he was and what he'd done to her, she had to admit —again if only to herself—that he was magnificent. Handsome. Powerful. Wealthy. Three qualities that many women would find desirable if not downright irresistible. She could name a few who would willingly throw themselves at his feet. Their eyes met, and her heart pounded as if it wanted to free itself from her ribcage. Her cheeks reddened, and she resisted a shudder when his eyes swept over her in what appeared to be pure male appreciation. Only just realising that she'd appeared in front of him in women's clothing, she looked away, unable to hold his penetrating gaze. To be looked at in this way, in the way a man looked at a woman... It had been a very, very long time since anyone had.

"Welcome back, Master." Shahrazad's honey-dipped voice pulled her out of her musings. "How may we be of service tonight?"

"Bring me Sarah." He instructed. After that, he wouldn't meet her eyes. Shahrazad disappeared back into the harem, no doubt going to do his bidding.

He'd asked for one of his concubines.

For whatever reason, her chest tightened uncomfortably. She didn't understand why. Then again, being near this dangerous man could never be 'comfortable'.

She took a steadying breath. "When are you going to set me free?" she grits out past the strange feeling in her chest, telling herself to concentrate on the issue at hand rather than focus on Zain's lecherous needs and dallying.

He glanced at her. Something flashed so quickly in his eyes that she missed it. He opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by the most ear-grating, overly-feminine voice Maria had ever heard in all her eighteen years of life. She turned around to see a very familiar face.