One Thousand and One Nights

ii

  They had thrown Scheherazade in an extravagant chamber without so much as a word. She had expected Jamal to at least explain to her his game, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  The servant had told her that holding a wedding ceremony each night was not worth the effort. She did not need to continue for Scheherazade to know the end of the sentence.

  The bride will die anyway. Why waste our time?

  So now she stared out the window at the stars that glowed like small beacons. A small voice at the back of her head assured her that this was not the end.

She was Scheherazade Nassar. She would not die without a fight.

This was not her end.

Her hand rose to the golden ribbons that were weaved into her ink-black hair. They had made her look divine, with lips the color of blood, eyes hooded with kohl, and cheeks dusted with flecks of gold.

A perfect sacrifice.

The doors' low groan went unnoticed by her, but she heard the footsteps that followed.

A few moments passed before she heard his voice, something so cold and detached that a chill traveled down her spine.

"You do not bow down to your king?"

Scheherazade turned around to see him standing in the shadows, only a whisper of his features clear.

"Why would a queen succumb to her equal?" She replied, her voice as firm as her heart was unstable.

He finally stepped into the light, and Scheherazade was sure that the most beautiful things were the deadliest.

The crown on his head shone in a way that put the stars to shame, yet that was not enough to diminish his beauty. He had the body of a warrior, even the same stance of someone who was preparing for war. His skin was the color of honey and his eyes, they looked like they could murder someone and call it righteousness.

"A funny thing to say for someone who is about to die," He took another step forward, such that there was less than a foot between them.

Scheherazade smiled bitterly.

"A girl can only have such a title once. I might as well make the most of it."

  Another step and they were breathing the same air.

"I am sure that a woman from the brothels can only dream of having such luxury."

Her hands itched with the urge to slap him.

"You are correct. The lair of monsters attracts many, sayidi." The last word was more of a curse than a show of respect.

He smiled in a way that told Scheherazade she will be dead before the hour ends. In a moment, her chin in his hand.

"Do you have a death wish, darling?"

"Death is something I'll get without having to wish for it."

His humorless chuckle rang around the room. "I might as well give you what you want."

  His fingers left her chin to trace her lips.

  She tried to convince herself that she was back in the brothel and that he was just another man. But his presence gave off a sinister aura that could not be ignored.

  He finally tipped her head up and kissed her.

  It was almost imaginary. His lips were touching hers then they were gone, as soft as a feather.