Easy

An Arabian beauty. A phoenix of the desert. Never had such a beautiful woman been seen in all of Egypt. The betrothed of Ali Akbar, one of the most powerful and influential dealers in all of Cairo. It was rumoured that his alleged father had snatched her for a few sacks of silver from a Bedouin from Sinai. A delicate flower, grown among the desert dunes. Her destiny seemed to be carved in those dunes, but as nature teaches, the strong wind could always transform them. The wind that changes shape to the seemingly defined landscapes of a harsh and adverse desert could somehow bend events. But at what bitter price?

She had met him by chance, in a crowded market.

It was a sunny day and that impetuous wind had been felt in the morning, slipping between the linen curtains, setting her hair around her sleeping face. The sun, radiant and fresh, had hit her eyelids.

She had dreamed of being free. She had dreamed of entering the sea naked, wrapped only by the powerful body of her spouse. She had dreamed of being a prisoner only of her love. Free to be overwhelmed only by those who would know how to let her go. She dreamed of voices, sounds, scents that were not familiar to her. She dreamed of wine, and tables prepared without slaves, without masters. She dreamed of the West, walking free in the marble halls of prestigious shops. Just to look, just to feel how a free woman breathed proudly.

But her dreams shattered and her hopes died. Ali was close, too close.