One Thousand and One Nights

ix

Karam was prepared to leave in less than an hour.

They had absolutely nothing with them; no money, no food, no clothes. Their only hope of getting a meal was the gold necklace that decorated Scheherazade's neck and the clothes on her skin.

But despite everything, it seemed as if they would have the same fate whether they stayed or left: death.

The only difference was that they would get to keep their dignity in the first case.

Perhaps that was what made Scheherazade make a split-second decision.

She refused to wear the bruises on her skin as a proof of being weak. On the contrary, they were a proof that she had survived. That she had fought back.

Convincing Karam was the hardest part. He was too stubborn for his own good, too much like Scheherazade herself.

Finally, he agreed to let her go only if she returned in an hour.

Scheherazade walked past the numerous doors of the soldier's quarters and continued her path until she was climbing staircase after staircase and hiding in the shadows so that no guard could see her.

It was almost sunrise, but it didn't signify fear for once.

There were two guards in front of the king chambers, both bulky and scarily emotionless. There was no time to come up with an articulated plan, so she stood at the end of the hallway, where they couldn't see her, and screamed.

They both looked at each other then sprinted in her direction. Little did they know that Scheherazade was already moving, blending with the darkness and walking right past them without a hint of a movement.

When she was in front of the doors, she did not hesitate to open them and enter the lair of the beast.

The room was large -- much larger than hers, with dark walls and arched windows that made the room look as if it was hanging from the sky.

A lingering sense of bleakness gripped Scheherazade's heart and she felt the anger that had been successfully repressed for so long release itself into her veins.

It was most likely because of the man standing in front of the window.

Even from her place, she could see his tense muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt, as if he was preparing for an attack.

"You are a coward." Scheherazade said. Her voice was not a shout nor a scream.

No. It was the calm before a storm.

He finally turned around, his hands tightening around the windowsill.

She could not see the look in his eyes but if she had to guess, they were as emotionless as usual. But something was wrong with his voice. It almost sounded worried.

"What happened? Have you seen the healer?"

Scheherazade almost let out a laugh.

  "Do not act innocent. You are fooling no one."

  She stepped closer to him, the stubble on his jaw becoming more prominent, the weight of his stare heavier.

  "Is this how they all died? You didn't even have the guts to kill your own brides."

  A tight grip on her arm made her shut up and glare at the king instead.

"Before you start throwing accusations, I'd like to know what happened."