Street Rat

Chapter 7

“Yes?” The old librarian peered over the counter; his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose.

“My master sent me for these”. Aladdin handed over the list.

“Ah yes, I have them right here. I’ll need you to sign for them”. The man handed him a book and quill, waiting for him to scribble his name down before taking it back to hide behind the counter.

“Here, now leave and don’t drop them”. The man shoved a pile of scrolls and books into Aladdin’s arms.

With a small “oof” Aladdin readjusted his grip. “Thank you”. The old man merely grumbled, waving the young man away as he turned back to whatever he’d been doing beforehand.

Aladdin stumbled slightly, unused to carrying such an awkward load, as he managed to open the doors. He manoeuvred some of the heavier items to better sit within his arms, before finally heading back to his master’s rooms.

‘Please don’t be there, please don’t be there’. Aladdin thought to himself.

An unusual mantra to be thinking perhaps, but Aladdin had good reason to think it. It seemed that whenever he set out to find his master, he ended up running into their kingdom’s beloved princess. Privately Aladdin felt that she’d only been given this title by someone who hadn’t been around her for more than a few minutes. It really was the only explanation that made any sense. Every interaction he’d had with her had led to her screaming and whining until she got her way. And to think she’d gone so far as to defy the Sultan’s orders. It was something Aladdin still couldn’t comprehend.

Had it been anyone else they’d have been executed on sight, and that was if they were lucky. But of course being the princess automatically gave Jasmine more rights than any loyal, hardworking citizen of Agrabah. Such was the power of royalty. They could be utterly useless, fit only to lie around, eat and make orders but absolutely no one could touch them. Particularly if these flaws were kept hidden from the masses, which in Jasmine’s case appeared to be true. Or at least Aladdin thought so.

It truly was unfair that one’s birth depicted what someone would become; from becoming a thief to becoming a prince, all it took was the right bloodline and circumstances. But Aladdin already knew this; he’d lived it in fact. He knew that what he was right now, a servant to a man who could have him killed without warning, was the best he could hope for. A man who could order him on his knees, force him to do whatever he pleased and toss him aside when he was done. It could very well be his future, a fact Aladdin was all too aware of.

There was no other way to describe it, he felt…trapped.

Yet Princess Jasmine was free to flaunt herself throughout the castle as she pleased. Dressing in whatever skimpy outfits she could find, seducing the guards into doing as she wished and reporting them when she got what she wanted. She could do whatever she liked because she was royalty, and Aladdin could not. Such was his role in life.

‘It just isn’t fair’. Aladdin thought to himself. He stopped as he approached the corridor where he’d last run into the princess. Slowly approaching, a task made somewhat more difficult by the load in his arms, he peered around the corner and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing it empty. ‘Praise Allah’. He thought before quickly making his way to his master’s rooms.

-

 “Do you understand me?” Jasmine asked, her arms crossed and a sneer on her face.