Princess of Dhagabad, The Read Online Free PDF Page A

princess. And she has her own parents. If her father, the
master of ceremonies, had ordered her nanny to put her to bed an
hour earlier, that’s the way it would have been. You are not a boy,
despite what his majesty the sultan may think.”
    “She’s too young to understand,” Zeinab
grumbles, tucking the princess in. “What do fathers know about
children?”
    “Can the bottle stay with me tonight?” the
princess asks.
    “Be patient, princess, just a little while
longer. After your birthday you will be in complete command of your
bottle.”

    “Everything is ready for the ceremony
tomorrow, your majesty.”
    Nimeth noiselessly appears by the door in the
royal quarters. Her dark dress and skin are almost invisible
against the dark outline of the doorway, and only the silver around
her neck and at the hem of her skirt shimmers in the light of the
lanterns.
    “I am so worried about the princess, Nimeth,”
the sultaness says, impatiently standing up. Her long nightdress
clings to her rounding figure; loose hair, slightly touched by
early gray, falls down to her waist. “She is almost twelve, and she
still plays mostly by herself. And her toys are so strange—flowers
and rocks…”
    “Most parents would be proud of such a
well-learned daughter, your majesty.”
    “I am very proud of her, Nimeth.” The
sultaness sits down again.
    Nimeth’s gaze lights up with affection as she
looks at her mistress and friend, at her fresh rosy cheeks, at the
black curls with scarcely shimmering silver strands, at the
roundness of her figure, more revealed than hidden by her light
nightdress.
    “She rarely laughs, Nimeth,” the sultaness
continues. “And she worries about others so much! Remember how she
cried at the bazaar when she thought the cloth merchant Mustafa
broke the law?”
    “The princess is a rare creature, your
majesty. Do you know the palace rumors that she is related to the
peri?”
    “I’ve heard it said, Nimeth. She is so thin,
so fragile. And her white skin makes her look almost transparent. I
know she will grow up to be a rare beauty, Nimeth! Blue eyes and
black hair is such an unusual combination. Only it won’t be easy
for her, she is so reserved.”
    “She often plays with Alamid, the daughter of
the master of ceremonies.”
    “Not so often, the nannies tell me. Alamid is
a completely different girl. Oh, I’m so worried for the princess,
Nimeth. Why does the sultan think she can be treated like a boy?
Why does she have to be raised in such freedom? All those history
lessons, lonely walks in the garden, equal conversations with men
in the palace. I’m told the sultan even plans to teach her horse
riding! I think it is completely unnatural.” The sultaness drops
her hands in frustration.
    “You know how hard the sultan takes the fact
that he cannot have a son, your majesty.” Nimeth’s voice wavers and
dies, leaving the room in stiff silence.
    They both remember all too well how, a long
time ago, the sultaness nearly lost her life giving birth to a
stillborn baby boy. How, a year later, she finally bore a son who
died in two days, leaving her barren and her husband, the sultan,
completely heartbroken. The princess, their firstborn, was three at
the time, and remembers nothing of these futile attempts to obtain
a brother for her and a male heir to the throne of Dhagabad. Ever
since, the sultan has insisted on giving the princess almost as
much freedom and exactly as much education as he would give a crown
prince, thus unofficially naming her the heiress to the throne.
Perhaps things could have been different if one of the sultan’s
concubines had borne him a son. Perhaps, he could even forsake the
law and make the lucky concubine his new sultaness. But all his
sons by his concubines were born dead, leaving him surrounded with
numerous daughters, making him lose his hopes, making him bitterly
disappointed in his own abilities as a man.
    “I almost wish somebody else would give him a
son,