A Question of Virtue

An original story inspired by Disney’s Aladdin

by Sedeara

Special thanks to Evi for entrusting her “child”, Ali, to my care.

Dedicated to Evi, Yesenia’s “godmother”, for being there for me and for her, from day one. 
 

Chapter One

          “I’m bored,” sighed Yesenia.  She was propped on her window seat, gazing down into the palace menagerie.

          “You’re always bored after a suitor leaves,” commented Cassim.  He didn’t even look up from his studies, just dipped the quill into the ink and continued to write.

          “That’s because there’s no one for me to have fun with.”  She grinned as she remembered her most recent suitor and how gullible he had been.  She had smiled lazily at him as he told her how many kingdoms his father had conquered, and when she’d asked him, in mock interest, to tell her more of his conquests, he’d taken it seriously and rambled off another string of exaggerations.  And the entire time, he’d never guessed that inside her mind, she was laughing at him hysterically.

          “What are you doing, Cassim?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at her little brother.  His dark black hair covered his face as his quill moved furiously on the paper, and Yesenia noticed wistfully that, at that desk with his face out of view, he almost looked like a man.

          “Some of the homework my tutor assigned me,” answered Cassim.  “It’s a fake letter written by an angry Sultan to his brother in another kingdom, and I’m suppose to rewrite it in a polite and diplomatic way.”

          Yesenia laughed. “Why?  If the Sultan was angry, why can’t he just write an angry letter?  Shouldn’t he be honest?”

          “Yesenia, that’s not how diplomacy works!” said Cassim, shocked.  “Good thing you’re not running a kingdom—it would be in chaos!”

          “Well at least it would be an honest chaos,” Yesenia teased, poking Cassim under the ribs.

          “That tickles!”

          “Does that?”

          Cassim let out a series of boyish giggles, and his face started to turn red.  “Stop it, Yesenia!  You’re messing up my handwriting!”

          “You worry too much!”

          Before Cassim could reply, they both heard the rumble of tiny feet running in the hallway and they smiled at each other.  “Sounds like the twins are coming.”

          Moments later the doors burst open and the twins stumbled in, Najila first, as always.  Their faces were pink from running.

          “We just saw the prince leave!” gushed Najila.

          Nasir nodded.  “Yeah, and he was smiling!  I looked at his hand—he had rings on every finger!  Gosh he must be so rich!”

          “He certainly thought he was,” said Yesenia dryly.

          “Was he a good kisser?” asked Najila.

          “Najila, were you spying again?”

          “I wasn’t, I promise!” She moved her hand up to her mouth to stifle giggles.

          “No, he wasn’t, you nosy little girl!” Yesenia tapped Najila’s nose playfully.  “His lips were too dry.”

          “Yesenia, you know that—“ Cassim began, but his older sister quickly cut him off.  “Shh,” she warned.  “I hear Ali coming.”

          “I just saw Prince Abdullahrahman off,” said Ali as he entered.

          “Only you could pronounce that,” laughed Yesenia.

          “What did you call him if you couldn’t pronounce his name?” asked Ali, cocking an eyebrow.

          “Dear prince.”

          “He seemed to have liked you,” said Ali, smiling.

          “She didn’t like him,” blurted Najila.  “She says he’s not a good kisser.”

          Ali’s face drained.  “Yesenia, you didn’t kiss him?”

          “She kisses all her suitors,” said Najila, her eyes dancing with mischief.

          “Najila!”

          “Yesenia!” 

          Sheepishly, Yesenia turned back to Ali.

          “Yesenia, you just can’t do that,” he said.  His voice was calm, but his sister could tell that he was disappointed.  “You have to take your responsibilities seriously.  I work very hard to build up the reputation of our family, and you should do the same.”

          “A little kiss never hurt anyone,” said Yesenia sulkily. “Besides, how else am I suppose to know if I like them?”

          “This is real life, Yesny, not a romance story.”

          Yesenia bit her lip.  She hated Ali to be angry with her, and she hated to let down her family . . . but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.  She just wanted to have fun.  

          “You know I love you,” Ali said gently, placing his hand on Yesenia’s shoulder.  “And that’s why I’m scolding you.  I don’t want the people of Agrabah—or of other kingdoms, for that matter—to start questioning your virtue.”

          “Ali—“ Yesenia sighed.  Sometimes she felt like she was on a different plain than the rest of her family, and she wondered why they always insisted on taking everything so seriously.

          “Yesenia, when our mother was your age she was thinking of choosing a husband!” Ali reminded her.

          “Yes, and when Mother was my age, she also ran away from home and met Dad.”

          “That’s different.  Her father didn’t give her the freedom she needed,” said Ali patiently.  “But Yesenia, Mom and Dad give you that freedom.  Don’t abuse it.  Why do you still feel the need to rebel?”

          “I’m not rebelling!” insisted Yesenia.  “I’m just having fun.”

          “Be careful, Yesny,” Ali warned her.  “Your idea of ‘fun’ could lead you into trouble.”

          Yesenia turned away from her siblings and returned her gaze to the window, watching the sun disappear behind the palace walls.  Darkness slowly crept into the room, and for once Yesenia remained silent, unable to tell her family about the strange and nameless sadness that occupied her heart.

          “Yesenia, you have to be more careful,” Jasmine said patiently.  Her daughter was still at the window-seat, staring out at a star-filled sky.  Jasmine wondered if she was even listening—she remembered, with a pain in her heart, how often she’d tuned her father’s lectures out.  Now that he was gone, she would have given anything to sit through one of his lectures.

          “I know you’re only having fun,” Jasmine continued, “but Ali told me that you’ve been less inhibited with your suitors than you should be . . .”

          Yesenia sighed, and Jasmine tried to read the feelings behind it. 

          “It’s permitted for you to let them politely kiss your hand in greeting or departure,” Jasmine continued, “but anything beyond that . . . is not to be taken casually.”  Jasmine was worried about her daughter—it wasn’t often that she sat so silently through a scolding.  Usually, she was quick to defend herself, even if the words that came out were sometimes disrespectful. 

          “Mother,” started Yesenia softly.

          “Yes?”

          “Remember when you told me the story of how you ran away from home because your life was being lived for you?  Remember how you said that, even though your father was angry, you never regretted it?”

          “Yes,” murmured Jasmine.  “I’ll never forget it, Yesenia.  That’s why we’ve told it to you—“

          “And remember how you met Dad, and . . . how you realized that there was more than one way to be trapped?  Well that’s how I feel . . . trapped.”

          Jasmine felt a pain shoot through her heart, and she approached her daughter, who still hadn’t taken her gaze off the sky for a moment.  She placed her hands on Yesenia’s shoulders, and closed her eyes.  She’d tried so hard to give her children the freedom she hadn’t had . . . and here was her daughter, sixteen years old . . . almost a woman, and feeling the same suffocation she’d experienced at her age.

          “I know you and Dad have tried hard to give me freedom,” Yesenia continued.  “You took me on trips to kingdoms when I was little, and I’ve been into the marketplace for all the festivities the common people throw, but . . . somehow it’s not enough.”  Yesenia turned around quickly and looked into her mother’s eyes, praying she wouldn’t see pain and disappointment in them.  She didn’t—just compassion . . . and her own reflection.

          “I just feel like . . . like I need to do something on my own . . . just to prove that I can.  Maybe that’s why I play with the suitors . . . because I know it isn’t right, but I’m still controlling it . . . Mother, please don’t be disappointed—“

          “I’m not,” whispered Jasmine.  “Continue.”

          “It’s just that . . . Ali had his adventure last year.  I think that’s why he’s so ready to become Sultan.  I think that’s why he can follow the rules and not feel trapped by them . . . because he’s had that chance . . . to be on his own and make his own rules . . .”

          “And that’s what you need,” murmured Jasmine, sitting beside her daughter on the cushioned window-seat.  She tenderly brushed rebellious curls away from Yesenia’s eyes.

          “I don’t know,” admitted Yesenia.  Restlessly, she stood up and paced to her desk where a portrait of the family was lovingly set beside a vase of jasmine flowers.  It was a newly painted picture.  “I love you,” she whispered, glancing at the portrait and almost speaking to it instead of her mother—addressing the entire family and not just one member.  “But I think I need to get away . . . to find who I am and who I want to be.” 

          Jasmine also rose from the cushioned bench now.  “I think you’re right.”

         Yesenia looked up from the portrait, surprised.  She had known her mother would understand, but she’d expected her to be hurt . . . to need more coaxing before agreeing.

          “Your father and I try very hard to give you freedom to grow on your own, Yesenia,” Jasmine continued.  “That’s why we allow you to meet suitors but don’t insist that you choose one, and why you were shown the city outside the palace at a young age.  But there were still restrictions—and you’re growing up.

          “When I was nineteen, my father had relaxed from his old ways quite a bit.  I’d already met your father and seen the world with him . . . but there was still searching I needed to do . . . still questions I had to answer about myself.  And I had to do that on my own.”

          “You went to Astaseez,” whispered Yesenia, for she’d heard this story before as well.  “To uncover your mother’s past—“

          “It’s your past, too, Yesenia,” Jasmine reminded her gently.  “Our blood isn’t in Astaseez anymore, since my grandfather left no sons.  But our history is still rich there.  You would learn, and, more importantly, you’d be away from home.  You’d get your taste of freedom.”

          “Could I?” asked Yesenia.  “You’d let me go there—alone?”

          “When I was young, I had my adventures.  Ali had a chance for his—I believe that it’s your turn, Yesenia.”

          “Thank-you,” Yesenia whispered, and she fell into her mother’s embrace, something she hadn’t done since she was a little girl.  “Thank-you.”

          “I’m not sure about this,” admitted Aladdin that night, removing his turban.  He ran his hand through his hair and down his face, finally letting it rest against his dark, trim beard.  “She’s so young—“

          “Not so young,” Jasmine whispered.  “When I was her age, I was expected to marry and bear sons.  And you—“

          “I was living in the streets,” he finished.  “But Jasmine . . . I grew up like that—I hardly remember my mother, and my father . . . I didn’t know him until we were married.  I learned the hard way to take care of myself—but we’ve always been there for Yesny.  She doesn’t know yet what the world is like . . .”

          Jasmine stood before the mirror, removing her golden earrings.  She could see her husband’s reflection over her shoulder, and she smiled gently.  “Aladdin,” she murmured, “I had no idea what the world was like either, until I broke the rules and left—“

          “But you had me,” Aladdin reminded her, grinning mischievously and pulling her back against him.  Without warning, he lost his balance and they both tumbled back on the bed.  Jasmine laughed and turned around, but the playfulness had already disappeared from Aladdin’s face. 

          “She’ll be okay, Aladdin,” Jasmine whispered, lightly brushing his face.  “You know that if we don’t give her this opportunity, she’ll rebel and take it anyway.”

          “Yes,” admitted Aladdin reluctantly.  “It’s something she needs . . .”

          Jasmine nodded and snuggled more closely into Aladdin’s embrace.  “It’s something we all need . . .”

         Ali stood in Yesenia’s doorway watching her for a long time.  She was hunched over her desk, scribbling away.  Her hair was tied behind her neck—if she hadn’t done it that way, strands of it would have hung lose and slipped right into the inkbottle.

          “Mom says you’re going away,” Ali commented.  Surprised at the broken silence, Yesenia jumped and glanced over her shoulder.

          “How long have you been spying?” she asked.

          “Not long.”  Ali brushed curtains aside and entered, seating himself on Yesenia’s divan, right beside her desk. 

She turned on her stool to face him.  “I am.”

          “Why?”

          Yesenia sighed and turned back to the request she was writing to Sultan Tewfic.  “Because I need to . . . get away from here.”

          “It’s not so bad.”

          “But it’s . . . here . . . familiar and . . . stifling.”

          Ali shifted nervously.  “Yesny, it’s not because of . . . what I said yesterday, is it?  About your reputation . . .?”

          It hurt Yesenia to see Ali blaming himself for her own restlessness.  But then, he always was one to take full responsibility for the family . . . it was something that annoyed Yesenia at times, but it was also something she admired.  None of these thoughts escaped for her brother to hear.  Instead, she tapped his nose playfully with the feather-end of her pen and said, “No, Ali.  It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

          “Yesny—“

          “Ali! Ali!” two voices shouted in unison, accompanied by a chorus of giggles and stampeding feet.  Within moments they had burst into the room. 

          “We’re playing pirates,” announced Najila.

          “Yeah, like that man who hunted the shark!” added Nasir.

          “Murk,” Ali provided.  “And I’m not sure he was a pirate—“

          “We need a bad guy,” continued Najila.

          “Yeah, to capture her.”  Nasir pointed to Najila.  “So that I can rescue her.  I’m going to be the hero!”

          “But then I get to rescue him!”  Najila tugged on Ali’s arm.  “Come on!”

          “Wait.”  For once, Ali resisted, and touched Yesenia’s arm.  “When are you leaving?”

          Najila’s grip on Ali’s sleeve slackened, her attention diverted.  “You’re going away, Yesny?”

          “Yes—“

          “Can I come?” Najila asked hopefully.

          “And me!” injected Nasir.

          “Where?” Najila asked before Yesenia had a chance to answer her former question.

          “Astaseez.  Where grandmother was from.”

          “Why?”

          Yesenia smiled mischievously.  “Because I’m tired of playing.  I’m ready for a real adventure.”

          “Sultan Tewfic has extended an invitation,” said Yesenia, unfolding the response to the letter she had sent him.  “He was also impressed by the writing of the letter,” added Yesenia, smirking.  “Good thing that I had Cassim revise it for me.  I’ll have to thank him.”

          “What else does he say?” asked Jasmine.

          “That he has two sons around my age,” she continued.  The smirk spread to a grin. 

          “Any daughters?” asked Aladdin.

          Yesenia shook her head, scanning further down the letter.  “Not that he mentions.  Just the boys.”

          Aladdin and Jasmine exchanged worried glances.

          “But Princess Shahina, daughter of Prince Casimir of Pitosah, is also making a visit during the time I’ll be there.”  Yesenia wrinkled her nose in annoyance.  “I’d rather not meet her.  That Pitosah family is nothing but trouble.”

          “Casimir is a good man,” Jasmine assured her daughter, fondly remembering her childhood crush on him.  “He isn’t anything like his brothers.  I’ve never met his wife, but I doubt he’d settle for anything less than wonderful.  His daughter will probably be nothing like her uncles, either.  I don’t think you have to worry about Shahina.”  Jasmine smiled.  “She must be about your age.”

          Yesenia nodded.  “The letter says nineteen.”

          “She’ll probably be a friend, Yesny,” suggested Aladdin.  “You’ll be glad for her visit once you meet her.”

          The thought relieved Aladdin and Jasmine both.  Perhaps friendship with another woman would distract Yesenia from the two young princes.

          The weeks before her visit went by sooner than Yesenia had expected them to.  Before she knew it, she was standing in the menagerie, saying good-bye to her family.

          “Be careful, Yesny,” Ali said softly, embracing her.

          “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do,” said Yesenia.  They grinned at each other in shared remembrance of all the mischief they’d gotten into as children . . . innocent, of course.  And it was a lot of fun when they weren’t caught.

          “Write us letters!” demanded Najila.  “Tell us everything!”

          “Yes, and use big words!” added Nasir.  “Because we’re learning to read really good now, aren’t we, Najila?”

          She nodded happily.

          Yesenia rubbed Cassim’s perfectly combed hair, and in annoyance, Cassim tried to straighten it again.  “Yesenia . . .”

          “Don’t study too hard, little brother,” said Yesenia affectionately.  “Especially when I’m not here to distract you from it.”

          “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Ali assured them both gently. 

          Cassim withdrew.  “I can take care of myself,” he muttered.

          “Can you?” teased Yesenia.

          “Don’t bother him about it,” said Ali good-humoredly.  “You’re the one we’re all worried about.”

          “I’ve waited my whole life for something like this,” said Yesenia, ignoring the tight ball of nervousness in her stomach.  “I know exactly how to handle it.”

          She turned to her parents.  “Mother . . . Dad . . .” She hugged them both in turn, unsure of what to say.  It was the first time that she’d be out of their protecting presence, and it didn’t feel right to tell them how much she was looking forward to it.  Finally, she simply whispered, “Thanks.”

          “Did you remember everything?” Aladdin asked as Yesenia drew away.  “Enough clothes—“

          “Yes, Dad.”

          He swallowed hard, then glanced behind Yesenia to where Carpet was patiently waiting.  “Fly carefully, pal.”

          Carpet gave Aladdin a respectful salute.

          Yesenia ruffled Abu’s hair and stroked Rajah’s fur, grown coarse after so many years.  “Keep the family in line,” she whispered to the tiger.  He whimpered softly.

          “Well.”  Yesenia smiled to cover her nervousness.  “I’m off!”

          Within a few moments, Carpet hovered above the palace walls with Yesenia situated atop.  The family continued to wave until she was out of sight.

          When she was no more than a fading speck on the horizon, Jasmine leaned back against Aladdin.  His arm circled her waist.  She didn’t need to turn around to sense his uncertainty.  “What’s wrong, Aladdin?” she murmured.

          Aladdin sighed.  “I don’t know, Jasmine.  I just have the feeling that after this . . . Yesenia will never be the same again.”

Chapter Two

            I’m not afraid, Yesenia convinced herself.  Only nervous.  This was exciting!  This was being on her own for the first time . . . this was freedom!

          And overwhelming.

          Yesenia took a deep breath, and ran her fingers lightly over Carpet’s woven designs.  If nothing else, this trip gave her a few hours in Carpet’s quiet company to think.

          She concentrated on the golden swirls on the rug and let the familiarity sooth her.  The patterns reminded her of her family.  Ali had once told her, when they were younger, that when he looked into these designs, sometimes he thought he saw their parents’ entire history hidden within the fabric—a magical tapestry of years of adventure gone by.

          Yesenia smiled, excitedly wondering what this journey could add.

          Yesenia vaguely remembered the shining ivory marble of Astaseez’s majestic palace.  Her parents had taken Ali and her on a trip there when she was little—no older than five, she realized, because Cassim hadn’t been born yet.  They hadn’t returned again since.  Shortly following their visit, Astaseez was shaken, as were nearly all the kingdoms in the Seven Deserts, by Pitosah’s power-hungry Sultan and the lengths he’d go to to achieve that power.  Astaseez had managed to make deals to avoid going to war and to keep their independence—not all kingdoms had been so lucky.

          She had also heard her mother tell Dad one night that she didn’t feel a connection with Astaseez anymore now that her family’s blood was completely gone from the kingdom, fading since the death of Amaranian and disappearing completely with Princess Leila’s death eight years earlier.  Neither had left heirs, and so allies, not family, now ruled the kingdom. Although Yesenia had recognized the sadness these things brought her mother, she didn’t completely understand them.  She couldn’t remember a time when Astaseez had been ruled by family, and as for Agrabah . . . of course her family would always be there.  Therefore, this particular grievance was irrelevant to Yesenia.

          After brushing windblown black curls away from her eyes and ordering her stomach to stop fluttering in nervousness, Yesenia raised her hand to the gold knocker and banged against the door.

          A servant answered the door, smiling and bowing.  “Princess Yesenia, a pleasure, I assure you.  Allow me to take your bags.”  He held out his hands.

          “I can handle them, thanks.  They aren’t heavy.”

          The servant was a bit taken aback, which surprised Yesenia.  Her parents had always taught her to take care of herself, even though she was royalty.

          She was led down hallways to the throne room, and her nervousness began to disappear as she recognized details from her childhood visit.  There was the picture of the Amaranth like the one Dad had plucked from the garden and placed in her hair, and there were the candleholders she and Ali had played sword-fighting with . . .

          “Your Majesty!” boomed the servant, breaking Yesenia out of her thoughts as he drew open heavy doors.  “I am pleased to announce the arrival of Princess Yesenia of Agrabah.”

          Three men were in the room, and as if choreographed, they all rose from their high-backed chairs at the exact same moment.  Yesenia suppressed a smirk and the urge to ask them how much they’d practiced that move.

          “We are truly delighted by your visit,” began the Sultan.  “I hope your journey was pleasant?”

          “Very, thank-you.”

          “Then allow me to introduce my sons.”  He took a step back and raised his arms to indicate the young men on either side of him.  “Prince Mahdi, future Sultan of Astaseez, and his younger brother, Prince Hadi.”

          Mahdi’s face was perfectly composed.   “A pleasure, Princess,” he said formally, nodding his unanimated face in acknowledgement. 

          “A pleasure, Prince,” returned Yesenia, mimicking his stony expression with perfect accuracy.  If he noticed, he didn’t give any indication.

          “Excuse my brother,” said Hadi, stepping forward.  He had a boyish grin on his face, and Yesenia wondered how many years separated the brothers.  “He doesn’t know how to greet a lady.  I, on the other hand, am rather skilled in the art.”  Smiling widely, he took Yesenia’s hand in his and lightly kissed it.

          Before he had even lifted from his bow, a fan-fare of trumpets invaded the palace, their sounds echoing in the large, empty chamber.

          “Well, well,” said Hadi, “if it isn’t—“

          “Hadi,” interrupted Tewfic, “you will give Princess Shahina the respect she deserves.

          “Come,” the Sultan instructed, tilting his head toward the entrance.  “We’ll meet the Princess’s caravan in the front courtyard.”

          When Yesenia saw Shahina’s entourage, she felt as though she had come a bit under-equipped.  But then, when she thought of it, she would have felt silly arriving in Astaseez with six white horses, twelve men-servants, six women in waiting, and a golden-curtained litter supported by two muscular dark-skinned slaves.

          A tall man with a trim beard rushed out of the palace and to the side of the litter.  Two slim, ring-studded hands opened the curtains.  One hand was held out to the man, and he took it and let the woman step gracefully down. 

          Yesenia swallowed the jealousy that had risen within her.  She had never seen a woman so . . . perfect.  Her long black hair cascaded down her back like silk.  Her skin was pale and unblemished.  She was tall, slim, composed, and completely regal.

          Her small feet were adorned with black silk slippers.  A long black dress fit like a glove against her slim, flawless figure, and a tall crown exaggerated her height.  She was at least an entire head taller than Yesenia.  Self consciously, Yesenia brushed a piece of her unmanageable hair behind her ear.

          Shahina gave the older man who had helped her down from the litter an acknowledging smile as he led her up the stairs to the palace.

          “Yesenia,” began the Sultan, “this is Princess Shahina of Astaseez, and her uncle Prince Akil, my grand vizier.”

          Akil gave Yesenia an oily smile.  She never had cared much for royal viziers.

          “Akil tells me you’re a Princess of Agrabah,” Shahina said, running her eyes over Yesenia, who fought not to squirm under her gaze—she felt suddenly clumsy, childish . . . inadequate.  “Or is he mistaken?”

          “No.”

          “I never did care much for Agrabah,” Shahina admitted, glancing at her uncle.  “But then, I guess some people enjoy it.”

          Yesenia felt the anger rise to her face, but before she had a chance to retort, Shahina had already moved on to greeting the Princes.  Hadi blatantly ignored her, which earned him a disapproving look from his father and a contemptuous one from Shahina.  Mahdi bowed to her coldly, as she said in a sugarcoated voice, “It’s so good to see you, Prince Mahdi.”

          Stiffly, he extended an arm for her which she took in her own, and they entered the palace.

          “You haven’t changed the decorating much since I last visited, have you?” Shahina commented, glancing at the tapestries in the hall.  I’d say it’s about time that flower one went.  It’s been there for ages.”

          “It was hung by my predecessor, Sultan Amaranian,” said Tewfic, “in honor of his wife, Queen Lily, and his daughters, Leila and Amaranth.”

          “Well all four of them are dead,” said Shahina unfeelingly.  “This place needs to be brought up to the times.  Would you say so, Mahdi?”

          “As it pleases you, Princess,” he responded.  He looked neither at her nor at the tapestry in question.

          “I think it’s a fabulous idea!” exclaimed Akil.  “You know, Mahdi, our Shahina here has quite a knack for decorating.  Pitosah is renowned for its use of modern beauty.”

          Among other things, thought Yesenia, like greed, oppressiveness . . . spoiled princesses . . .

          After dinner that night, Yesenia planned to visit Astaseez’s famous garden.  As she approached the curtained door, however, she halted.  Mahdi was standing there, quietly observing the garden, as if he were on the verge of entering it—but something was holding him back.

          Yesenia guessed Shahina was that something.

          She sat on a bench beside a blossoming tree.  One manservant fanned her, while a woman-in-waiting held one of her slim hands and painted the smooth fingernails.

          “I don’t like her,” commented Yesenia.

          Mahdi didn’t make any indication that he’d noticed Yesenia’s entrance, just continued to stare ahead.  “I’m marrying her,” he said flatly.

          Yesenia drew back, shocked.  “Why?  Do you love her?”

          “That’s irrelevant.”

          “I don’t think it is.  I find it very relevant.”

          “No, I don’t.  But that doesn’t matter.  Not to her, not to the kingdom.”

          “And not to you?” asked Yesenia.

          “No, not to me, either.”

          “Then I feel sorry for you.”

          For the first time, he glanced at her.  But said nothing.

          “Mahdi, come here.”  Yesenia gestured as she saw the Prince pass by her room that night.

          “Excuse me?” he asked, taken aback by her invitation.

          “Come in here.”

          He hesitated, and Yesenia smirked.  “I don’t bite, Mahdi.”

          “Yesenia, it’s after dark,” Mahdi reminded her, but he entered anyway.

          “I know.  I wouldn’t have asked you in here if it wasn’t.”

          Mahdi raised an eyebrow.  “Yesenia, I don’t think—“

          “Sit down.”  She patted the place beside her.  She had been glad to find that her guestroom contained a window-seat almost exactly like the one in her room back home.  It made her feel at ease right away.  She wondered what was making Mahdi so tense as he sat beside her.

          “Look,” she whispered as she drew aside a curtain, revealing the night sky.  It was full of diamonds on black velvet.

          “Stars,” commented Mahdi, unimpressed.

          “Look how well you can see them!” exclaimed Yesenia.  “Look how beautiful they are tonight . . . it’s so clear here.”

          Mahdi gazed quietly at the stars for a few moments.  A shiver ran through his body—for a moment, he was captivated by the sheer beauty and endlessness of the black sky.  It was as if he were seeing it for the first time.

          “My favorite is Aquila,” commented Yesenia, breaking the silence.  “And then Cygnus.”

          “You know the names of the constellations,” remarked Mahdi, surprised.

          “Of course I do.  Of course, I don’t know them as well as Cassim.  He has the whole sky memorized.  What about you?”

          “Of course I know them.  My tutors taught me.  I just didn’t think that Princesses had that kind of education.”

          “I don’t know about other Princesses, but I do.  We can’t expect Ali to run everything on his own.”  Yesenia smirked, wishing her older brother were there just so she could tease him about it.  “But it wasn’t my tutor who taught me about the stars.  My dad knew where all the constellations were, but he didn’t know their names.  He could find them just because he’d studied them so much, but since he didn’t have any schooling, he made up his own names for them.  When he met my mother, she taught him the “real” names.  Her favorite is Orion.  She says it was in the sky when she fell in love with Dad.”

          Mahdi was silent.

          “What’s your favorite?”

          “Hercules,” said Mahdi.

          Yesenia’s eyes lit up.  “My parents met him!” she said excitedly.  “It wasn’t long after they got married—and he wasn’t even a hero yet!  He was still in training . . .”

          Mahdi looked doubtful.  “Are you telling me the truth?”

          “Of course I am.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

          Mahdi couldn’t come up with an answer.

          “They had so many adventures,” commented Yesenia.  “They’d seen almost the whole world before they got married, and after they were married—“

          “Wait,” interrupted Mahdi.  “If your parents were always running around on adventures, where did they find the time to learn of diplomacy?  How did they know how to rule a kingdom?”

          Yesenia laughed.  “If you want to govern the world, you have to see the world.  If you’re going to rule over people, you have to get to know people.  Not everything can be learned behind palace walls.  That’s why I’m here.”

          Mahdi was about to speak when a voice from the hall interrupted.

          “Prince Mahdi.”  It was Shahina.  “It’s a little late for you to be in here, isn’t it?”

          He rose from the cushions.  “Actually, I was just leaving, Princess.”

          “Good.  Then you can walk me to my chambers.”  She extended her arm for him, and he took it.  Yesenia didn’t greet Shahina or say goodnight to Mahdi.  She was still too resentful about having her companion taken away.

          “She’s good for you,” Hadi commented.  It was after dinner the following evening, and Hadi was in his older brother’s room.

          “Father thinks so,” remarked Mahdi, unfastening his cape and hanging it over the back of a chair.  “And it is a good alliance—it keeps us at peace with Pitosah, for one thing.”

          “I wasn’t talking about that,” said Hadi.  “I meant Yesenia.”

          He had left the room before Mahdi had a chance to reply.

          “Reading?”  Yesenia questioned.

          Startled, Mahdi looked up from his book to find Yesenia leaning over him, the sunlight playing in her black curls.  She sat beside him on the garden bench and glanced at the open book on his lap.  “How old are you, Mahdi?”

          “Twenty-three,” he answered, surprised by the impertinent question.

          “Too old for studying,” decided Yesenia.  “What would you say to a real adventure?”

          “I think I’m too old for that,” he said, turning back to his reading.

          “Surely you don’t still have to do the bidding of your tutor?”

          “No,” answered Mahdi stiffly.  “Yahika passed away three years ago.”

          Yesenia was silenced.  She knew Yahika’s story—at least, the parts of it that her mother had disclosed.  And this was one situation in which playing wasn’t appropriate.

          “I’m sorry,” murmured Yesenia.

          “I continue my studies in honor of him,” continued Mahdi solemnly.

          “Were you close?”

          “He was like a brother to me.  Especially after—“ Mahdi cut off, and Yesenia didn’t press for details.

          “My mother said he was a good man,” commented Yesenia.

          “But not good enough for her,” said Mahdi, his voice underlined with bitterness.  “Or her mother.”

          “Don’t make me feel guilty for what they did,” warned Yesenia.  “It wasn’t fair, Mahdi—they didn’t love him.”

          “There are factors other than love to consider when you’re dealing with royal marriages,” snapped Mahdi.

          Yesenia was taken aback.  “No wonder you’re so bitter,” she murmured.  “You’re entering into an arranged marriage.  You don’t love her, but you’re not going to break away.  You must feel so trapped—“

          Mahdi shrugged the comment away.  “I don’t have to marry her.  My mother left me a loophole before she died.  If, by the time Shahina was eighteen, neither of us had found someone else, we’d be married to one another.  She’s nineteen now, and nothing is holding either of us back.  I just need to give my father the word and the date will be set.”

          “You’re not being completely forced into it?” repeated Yesenia.  “Then why aren’t you searching far and wide for another princess?”

          Again, he shrugged, not looking at Yesenia.  “It doesn’t matter,” he said.  “Love often comes after the marriage, not before. I’ll learn to love whoever I’m with.  Why should I waste energy playing the beau when, in the end, all Princesses are the same?”

          Yesenia shook her head.  “Is that how you see it, Mahdi?  So am I just like them, too?”

          Mahdi examined her for a few silent moments.  And realized that she had a point.  “No,” he said reluctantly.  His younger brother’s words of the night before returned to him, along with all their implications.  He pushed them out of his mind; he had neither the time, energy, or right to entertain them.

          “Am I the exception that proves the rule?” pressed Yesenia.  “Or am I the one that disproves it?”

          Mahdi didn’t have an answer.  “It isn’t my place to pass judgments on you,” he said at length.

          “Why not?  You’ve already passed your judgment on Princesses in general, and since I’ve fallen into that category, don’t you have the right to pass it on me as well?”

          Their eyes locked.  Mahdi felt as though he’d been backed into a corner—matching wits with his younger brother he could handle.  But he’d never conversed this way with a woman before . . . and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.  Yesenia, as if sensing his uneasiness, broke the contact between their eyes and picked up one of the books on the bench.

          “Sinbad!” she exclaimed, shattering the previous tension.  “I wouldn’t have teased you so if I’d known that you were reading things like this.”

          Mahdi’s first reaction was embarrassment; but then his mouth curved into a half-smile.  “You’re fond of Sinbad?”

          “I love it!” exclaimed Yesenia.  She snatched Mahdi’s current book off his lap and slapped it closed.  Modern Diplomacy in the Arab World.  Yesenia wrinkled her nose at the title.  “You definitely need a change of pace,” she decided, placing the new book on his lap. 

          “Read it aloud,” she instructed.  “I haven’t heard it in ages.” 

          So Mahdi began reading.  At first, he kept glancing up periodically—at the balconies, the garden entrance, the windows.  He was uneasy, embarrassed, to be reading aloud to Yesenia as if they were both children.  But as time wore on, he became so absorbed in the story that he forgot his routine checks for privacy.

          As he neared the end of the book, he noticed a crinkling sound.  He glanced up without missing a word to see Yesenia carefully folding sheets of paper.  He ignored her and continued with his reading.

          Eventually, however, the crinkling drove him to distraction, and he closed the book.  “What are you doing, Yesenia?”

          She looked up at him in surprise.  “Listening to the story.  Why did you stop?”

          “What are you doing with the paper?”

          “Oh, that.”  Yesenia smiled proudly.  “Just wait—“ A few more creases, and Yesenia held the finished product up for Mahdi’s inspection.

          “A boat,” he observed dryly.

          “Like Sinbad’s,” added Yesenia.  “Here, I made one for you, too.”  She reached under the bench and handed Mahdi another of her creations.

          “What am I supposed to do with it?” Mahdi asked doubtfully.

          “Sail it, silly!” laughed Yesenia.  She rose from the bench.  “There’s a stream right over here where—“

          “It won’t float,” interrupted Mahdi.  “It’s made of paper.”

          “They float,” Yesenia assured him.  “I swear it.  Ali used to make these for me when we were little.  I’m surprised I remember how.”

          She fell to her knees beside the stream she had indicated earlier.  “Come down here.”

          Hesitantly, Mahdi knelt beside her.

          “We’ll race them,” decided Yesenia.  “On your marks, get set—go!”  She let go of her boat, and to her delight, Mahdi did the same.  Yesenia blew on hers to get it going, and then chased it as it rushed further down-stream.

          “I’m winning!” she proclaimed triumphantly.

          “No fair!” laughed Mahdi, following close behind her.  “You made the boats.  You probably cheated!”

          Yesenia turned around abruptly, grinning ear-to-ear.  “You’re laughing,” she said.

          “So?”

          “I’ve never seen you laugh,” said Yesenia.  “Getting you to smile is labor enough.  Most of the time you’re like this.”  Yesenia composed her face into a stony expression and crossed her arms over her chest.

          Mahdi continued to laugh, even though his upbringing told him he should be insulted by such a mockery.

          “If I had the talent,” said Yesenia, “I’d paint a picture.  I don’t think this happens much!”

          “Now how would you know?”

          “Experience.  As a rule, you princes are a very solemn group.”  She continued to giggle as she took a step back.

          “Careful!” cried Mahdi—but his warning came to late.  Yesenia had already run into a prickly rose bush.  As she disentangled herself from it, she lost her balance and found herself splashing into the rushing stream that had already carried their paper boats out of sight.  She came up coughing.

          “Are you all right?” Mahdi’s short-lived liveliness had disappeared.  He stepped forward, picking his way around the brambles himself.  He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching.  What would they say if they saw a display like this?

          “I’m fine,” answered Yesenia.

          “Let me help you.”  Mahdi extended a hand.  Yesenia grasped it and he pulled her up so they were standing facing one another.  Water still rushed around Yesenia’s ankles, and she reached up to squeeze out her drenched hair.

          “My appearance has seen better days,” she laughed.  “If my family were here, I’d get good-natured scoldings from all of them.  Even Najila and Nasir—they’re the youngest--never manages to get into spots like this—“

          “You look fine,” Mahdi assured her.  He removed an unruly curl that had gotten stuck on one of Yesenia’s eyelashes and brushed it behind her ear.  The moment his hand touched her face, Yesenia’s smile disappeared.

          Neither of them spoke.  One of Mahdi’s hands still grasped hers from when he’d pulled her up; the other stayed resting against her cheek.  Mahdi could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and feel it pulsing through the place where his hand touched Yesenia’s skin.  

          “I have to go,” he said, dropping his hand.  “And you’ll need to dry off before the celebration tonight.”

          “Right.”  Yesenia shook her head.  “I almost forgot.  The ball in Shahina’s honor.”  She rolled her eyes, then smiled at Mahdi before she turned away.  “I’ll see you there.”

          It was easiest for him not to think about what he’d just felt. 

          Yesenia was utterly bored.  No one had asked her to dance yet; they were all too busy fawning over Shahina.  It was a little pointless when she thought of it—what was the reason for inviting all these eligible princes to a ball in honor of someone already betrothed?  Last respects?  Yesenia smirked.  One more chance, for old times’ sake?

          Mahdi was on the other side of the floor, conversing with his younger brother.  Their discussion didn’t appear very lively.  She supposed that eventually he’d join Shahina on the dance-floor, but she couldn’t blame him for putting it off.  He looked almost as bored as she felt, although she had to admit that he was a lot better at masking it.

          She noted that she was one of the youngest guests at the ball and smiled when she remembered her parents’ rule when she was growing up.  “No late-night parties until you’re thirteen.”  Of course, she and Ali had managed to get around that.  Once they had sneaked back downstairs again after they were supposedly “in-bed”, and hidden under the draped serving-table to watch the excitement.  What they had discovered was that adults were just as boring late in the evening as they were early.  Still, the thrill of the minor disobedience was satisfying enough.

          They would have gotten away with it, too, if Ali hadn’t clumsily scooted back against the table leg.  It had given beneath his weight, and one end of the table had gone crashing to the floor—punch and bowls of fruit had slid down and toppled over, and Yesenia and Ali were discovered under the tablecloth.  They had been scolded later on, but Yesenia had decided that it was worth it.  Those adults had needed some excitement anyway.  Even now, when Najila and Nasir were caught in similar antics, Ali had a hard time scolding them without laughing himself.

          This ball needs some of the same, thought Yesenia, scanning the room in search of excitement.  Her eyes stopped when she came across a familiar face: Prince Abdullahrahman.  Heat rose to her cheeks, and she quickly averted her gaze before he caught her watching.  She wanted to leave the ball before he noticed her; one of the pleasures of teasing her suitors the way that she did was the fact that she’d never see them again.  He wasn’t suppose to be here!

          She quickly began making her way to the other side of the room.  If he saw her here, he’d no doubt ask her to dance and expect a follow-up of the treatment she’d given him when he visited Agrabah.  But she didn’t have a follow-up in mind; she’d had a little fun with him—she wasn’t going to let it turn into something serious!

          Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take a step in her direction.  I’ll act like I’m interested in somebody else, she decided.  That’ll hurt his vanity enough to make him leave me alone . . .

          “Sir,” she said, smiling and extending her hand to the nearest young man.  “I don’t believe we’ve met.  I’m Princess Yesenia of Agrabah.”

          “Charmed,” answered the man stuffily, raising her hand for a half-hearted kiss.

          “Would you like to dance?” Yesenia invited.  She was already pulling him onto the floor, and she glanced over her shoulder to find that Abdullahrahman had paused in his pursuits.  That was all she needed.

          Yesenia chatted and flirted with the man throughout the song—slightly flattering him even though she knew that his kingdom had little to boast.  As the song neared the end, she noticed Mahdi crossing the floor and pulled away from her dance-partner.  She was relieved to see his familiar face and hoped he’d offer a bit of relief from her boredom.

          But halfway across the floor, he was stopped by Shahina.  “Dear Mahdi, what’s taken you so long?” she asked, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.  “I thought you would never join me for a dance.”  She grasped his hand in hers and he reluctantly joined her in the middle of the floor.  Other dancers paused in their steps to stand back and observe the betrothed couple’s movements.  They were perfectly measured—every step taken at the right time, every twirl in tune with the band’s music.  But it seemed lifeless in Yesenia’s sight . . . as if they were actors in a play or one of the mechanical toys her grandfather used to collect.

          Murmurs of: what a lovely couple they make, swam around Yesenia, and an unfamiliar bitterness rested within her.  How could they say those things when it was obvious that they were only two performers playing a part?  Why couldn’t they see past the act?

          “Pathetic, isn’t it?” someone commented quietly.  Yesenia turned her head toward the voice.

          “Hadi!” she exclaimed.  “When did you come over here?”

          “As soon as my dance partner decided watching them was more exciting than I was,” he answered good-naturedly.  “Now, I’m not sure what they see, but I see my brother bored out of his wits and counting the measures until this song is over.”

          Yesenia smirked but said nothing, silently delighted to have somebody share her view.

          “And I see a Princess,” he continued, “who dances to court fortune and power, not my brother.  What do you see?”

          “The very same,” Yesenia admitted.

          When the song ended, Shahina fluttered her eyes and said something about being tired.  Four princes rushed to the middle of the floor and offered to walk her to her room, but she waved them away and said, “But of course, only my betrothed may have that honor.”  She linked her arm with his, and he led her out of the banquet hall.

           “You know, Yesenia, I feel sorry for him sometimes,” Hadi confessed, watching the couple leave.  “He’s so caught up in what he should be that he’s never learned how to have fun.  Maybe somebody should teach him.”  He winked at Yesenia and left to recommence the dance that had been broken when Mahdi and Shahina took the floor.

At the same time that he left, Yesenia saw Abdullahrahman take note of her again.  Before he even took a step toward her, however, Yesenia had slipped out the nearest door, not caring where it would lead her as long as it was out of his line of vision.

          She was surprised to find herself greeted with the cool air of the desert night—the door had led her directly into the garden.  She was even more surprised when she saw Mahdi out there as well, sitting alone at the same bench where they’d been reading earlier, staring at the stars.

          He didn’t even notice her as she sat down beside him.  “Find Hercules?” she asked.

          He jumped, startled by her presence.  “Yesenia,” he whispered.  “Why aren’t you at the ball?”

          “It was boring in there,” she answered, deciding not to tell him about Abdullahrahman’s pursuit of her.

          “And stuffy,” added Mahdi.  He took a deep breath of the fresh night air.

          “Do you come here often?” Yesenia asked.

          He nodded.  “Yes.  When I need to be alone.”

          Yesenia rose.  “I’ll leave you alone then.”

          He touched her hand.  “No.  I mean, you don’t have to.”

          She sat down beside him again.  Both were silent for many long moments.  Finally, Mahdi said, “How do you do it, Yesenia?”

          She blinked in surprise.  “What?”

          “Act the way you do.  Live your life as if nobody is watching . . . as if you’re not royalty and not weighed down by all the responsibility it carries.”

          “Honestly, Mahdi, I don’t think about it.  Maybe it’s because I’m not the oldest.  Ali is the heir, and . . . I guess I leave the responsibilities up to him.”  Yesenia shrugged.  “It’s no excuse, but I just feel like I’m not the “royal type”.   I’m a person like anybody else, and I’m entitled to the same fun and games as the commoners.  I don’t see myself as a Princess, Mahdi.  I see myself as Yesenia—just me—until the title becomes only a small part of who I am.”

          “I wish I knew how to do that,” sighed Mahdi.

          “But you do!” insisted Yesenia.  “You did it just this afternoon, when we raced the boats I made.”  She smiled.  “We never did find out whose won.”

          “It made me realize how tired I am of it all,” Mahdi admitted.  “How . . . trapped I am.  Yesenia, I never knew that that was the way I was living until you came and . . .”

          He shook his head.  “But I can’t just be like that.  I’m a Prince.  I’m the heir to this kingdom—“

          “But you’re also a person, Mahdi,” Yesenia whispered.  “Don’t let yourself forget that.”

          “I want to forget my title the way you do,” Mahdi confessed.  “I want to forget that I’m marrying a woman that I don’t know, and I want to forget that what lies ahead is . . . nothing but filling my father’s shoes.  I want to forget—” His voice caught; for a moment Yesenia almost thought it would break, and it puzzled her. 

          “I want to forget . . .” His voice trailed off as his eyes caught Yesenia’s and held them.  The glittering diamonds in the sky were reflected in those eyes, and Mahdi was mesmerized with their glowing light.  It was almost as if they belonged there.  “Everything,” he finished softly.

And he did forget the world as his hand slid up Yesenia’s neck and his lips brushed against hers.

          Startled, Yesenia jerked back.  “Mahdi . . .”

          Her eyes were wide with confusion, her mouth poised as if to speak, but no words came.  Mahdi could see that her breathing had changed by the way the red pendant resting against her chest rose and fell with measured, controlled precision.

          “You’re afraid,” he murmured, “aren’t you?”

          She finally found her voice.  “Afraid?” she scoffed.  “Of what?”

          “Of this . . . of us.”  Mahdi was sure he was right; he saw reflected on her face all the fear and confusion present within himself. 

“It takes more than that to scare me, Mahdi.” 

“You pulled away—“

          Yesenia waved her hand in dismissal and laughed.  “Maybe your lips were too dry.”

          “My—“

          “Good-night, Mahdi,” Yesenia interrupted cheerfully, as if nothing had transpired between them.  With those words, she was gone.

          Mahdi had never felt more foolish in his life.

          Yesenia was still shaking when she arrived in her room.  She locked the door behind her and rushed to the window-seat.  She crawled onto it and knelt, staring out at the same stars she had kissed Mahdi underneath moments before.

         What was that? she asked herself.  Why did I pull away from him?  It’s not as if I’m a child.  It’s not as if I’ve never been kissed before . . . it’s just that usually I’m the initiator . . .

          You’re afraid, aren’t you?

          Afraid!  It had been an absurd assumption on his part.  Why should she be afraid?  She, who had been on adventures from the time she was able to walk—who had stared evil sorcerers in the eye and knelt at the bedsides of dying citizens . . .

          Yet the worst part of it all was that Mahdi had hit the mark with uncanny accuracy.

          It doesn’t make sense, thought Yesenia.  How can it be that I, the bravest and most carefree of the royal children, can be scared to death by the stirrings of my own heart?

Chapter Three

            “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

          Mahdi glanced up from his desk at the stuffy voice.  Prince Abdullahrahman was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

            “Nothing at all,” answered Mahdi, dipping his quill into black ink.  “Please, come in.”

          “Thank you.”  He pulled a chair up beside Mahdi’s so that he was leaning over his shoulder.  Mahdi tried not to shift uncomfortably.  “Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked.

          “Actually,” the Prince began slowly, “I believe there is something I can do to help you.  I thought I should warn you about Yesenia.”

          Mahdi almost dropped the quill, and he hoped Abdullahrahman hadn’t noticed it.  For even though he’d spent the morning studying treaties and documents, he couldn’t keep what had happened the night before out of his mind.

          “What about Yesenia?” asked Mahdi, affecting an air of unconcern.

          “I saw the two of you in the garden last night.”

          “That was none of your business,” said Mahdi.

          “No, of course it wasn’t.  But I was following Yesenia and I happened to come upon the two of you together.  And now that I have, I thought I should share what I know about her, before it’s too late.”

          Mahdi still didn’t look up, but his attention had been caught.

          “You see, I was in Agrabah just two weeks ago,” the Prince continued.  “She gave me treatment quite similar to the way she treated you . . . except, she initiated the kiss and didn’t pull away from me,” he said smugly.

          Mahdi worked to quell the jealousy within him.

          “Yes, we had our own little tryst,” Abdullahrahman went on.  “She’s a pretty and fiery little thing, but she never finishes what she starts.  You know she was only playing with you.”

          Mahdi’s head shot up.

          “Why, she had no objections to being in my arms while I was in Agrabah, but at last night’s ball she pretended she didn’t know me.  Because she had moved on to some other interest, no doubt.  She is merciless and irresponsible—ask any other Prince who’s dealt with her and he’ll say the same thing.  You’re just her next victim, one more step up the ladder.

          “Luckily, I didn’t have any feelings like that for her.  Allah knows I’ve seen prettier faces.  Her hair is too tangled, and her manners . . . atrocious.  Not to mention she’s too short.  But I noticed the way you acted and—“

          “You have no right to judge my actions or my intentions,” said Mahdi coldly.

          “I say these things in highest regard for your position, Prince Mahdi,” Abdullahrahman assured him.  “But I feel it only fair that I let you know.  You are engaged to the most desirable princess in the Seven Deserts.  Don’t throw that away for Yesenia, who’s touched lips with more Princes than you could count on both hands.”

          Mahdi had never particularly liked Abdullahrahman . . . and he didn’t like what he was hearing either.  Yet, he couldn’t dispel the thoughts he’d arisen.  Had Yesenia been playing with him?

          She had laughed after he kissed her . . . then acted as if nothing had happened.  She had taunted and teased him since the moment she arrived, but had run away the moment he’d tried taking the situation into his own hands . . .

          His pride had been damaged by Abdullahrahman’s words—his pride and his feelings.  He had let himself be played with by a sixteen year old Princess who didn’t know how to behave herself . . . he had wrestled with feelings for the past few days that she didn’t even care about.  And he had even considered . . . He shook his head.

          It was foolishness, he told himself, and I knew it.  I can’t let her stand in the way of my future when it’s only a game to her . . . I’ll show her who’s making the rules this time . . .

          “Thank-you, Abdullahrahman,” he said politely, rising from his desk.  “Although I believe myself capable of handling this on my own, I appreciate your willingness to share your knowledge of our guest.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

          He left the room and headed for his father’s chambers.

          “Father, there’s something we need to talk about.”

          His father looked up from his letters.  “Come in, Mahdi,” he said, gesturing at an open chair.

          Mahdi pulled it up beside his father.  He steepled his fingers and took a deep breath.  It was important that he be completely composed when he addressed this matter.

          “I’m ready, Father,” he began.  “If Shahina wills it, I believe it’s time we set a wedding date and seal the bargain of our engagement.”

          “Ah, it’s about time, isn’t it?” agreed the Sultan.  “In fact, I was just thinking about it this morning.  After the ball last night, it’s quite obvious that you belong together.”

          Mahdi nodded mutely.

          “I have some of the documents right here,” said Tewfic, handing his son a pile of papers.  “You can sign these, and I’ll be sure that Shahina signs hers as well.  Then we’ll be ready to get the wedding that’s been ten years in the making underway.”

          “Thank, you father.”  Mahdi bowed absently and left the room.

          I did the right thing, he told himself.

          But that didn’t dispel the sickness in his heart.       

          “What do you think you’re doing?” demanded Hadi.  He didn’t knock or wait to be beckoned; he simply stormed into his brother’s room.

          “What are you talking about?” asked Mahdi absently, not looking up from the contracts on his desk.

          “You know what I’m talking about,” said Hadi hotly.  “The whole kingdom knows it.  Your recent engagement to Shahina.”

          “That shouldn’t surprise you,” said Mahdi.  “We’ve been promised for five years.  The only difference is that now it’s official.”

          “The difference,” contradicted Hadi, “is that before you’d just be settling.  Now you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life.”

          “How is that?”

          “Don’t play stupid with me,” said Hadi impatiently.  “You know what I’m talking about.  Marrying a woman that you don’t have any feelings for.”

          “They’ll come in time,” said Mahdi.

          “No they won’t,” contradicted Hadi.  “Unless you’re planning to forget Yesenia the moment you say your vows.”

          “She has nothing to do with this.”

          “Like heck she doesn’t.  You’re in love with her, Mahdi.”

          His head shot up.  “I’ve known her less than a week.”

          “And I’ve seen you smile more in the past five days than you had in the previous five years.  For the first time in ages you’ve started acting your age—By Allah, Mahdi, sometimes I think you get a thrill out of making people think you’re older than Father.  But when you were with Yesenia—“

          “It’s over,” snapped Mahdi bitterly.

          “Then why can’t you bring yourself to sign that document?”

          Mahdi’s eyes returned to the final engagement contract.  His pen was poised to seal the bargain . . . but it hadn’t yet touched the paper.  “Because you won’t leave me alone long enough to let me concentrate.”

          “It hardly takes concentration to sign your name.”

          “What right do you have—“

          “Every right,” answered Hadi before his brother had even finished the question.  “Because right now, I know your heart better than you know it yourself.  Because for the past five years you’ve been an empty shell, and if you marry Shahina, you’ll remain that way for the rest of your life.  Because I know there is more to you, Mahdi, if you dare to find it.”

          Mahdi slammed the quill down on the desk and rose, shoving his chair away from the desk as he did so.  “You have no right,” he said harshly, his face inches from his brother’s.  “You’re seventeen years old.  What makes you think you can run my life?”

          “Because somebody has to!” Hadi exclaimed.  “I’ve watched you, Mahdi.  I know you.  For the past few years, you’ve done nothing but fit into the mold that the kingdom expects you to fill.”

          “That is my duty,” said Mahdi.

“And as someone who cares deeply about you, it’s my duty to keep you from it.”

“Then you’re wasting your time,” Mahdi informed him coldly.  “I will carry this out.  Some of us have a sense of responsibility.”

          “Some of us also have minds of our own.”

“You’re not in this position, Hadi.”

“Neither are you.  This was Ahmed’s place, and Ahmed’s engagement, not yours.  No one ever asked you to become him, Mahdi.  No one!  But in the past five years, you’ve tried so hard to fill his shoes that you have no idea who you are.  You’re not Ahmed, Mahdi; you never were and you never will be!  You will never fill his place.  Accept that and accept yourself.  Accept your own feelings and don’t be afraid to lead your own life.” 

          “Leave me alone,” commanded Mahdi.  His arm lashed out and he shoved Hadi behind him as he stormed out of the room.

          But Hadi knew his brother well enough to know he’d hit the mark with perfect accuracy.

          Mahdi hadn’t cried in years.  He hadn’t even cried when it happened.  But now all those years of pain and frustration poured out.  His shoulders shook violently, and a jagged sob escaped his throat.  By Allah, he hoped no one saw him like this . . .

          Too late.

          “Mahdi.”  A hand as soft as the voice touched his shoulder.  He would have given anything to regain his control.  Of all people, he didn’t want Yesenia here . . . not now . . .

          “Look at me, Mahdi.”  She gently tipped his face up as she sat beside him on the bench.  “What happened?”

          He pushed her hand away.  “Don’t, Yesenia.  There’s nothing you can do.”

          Yesenia spread her hands helplessly before her.  “Not like this,” she said.  “But maybe if you tell me—“

          “No.  You shouldn’t see this.  I’m a Prince—I’m suppose to be calm and rational . . .”

          “You’re a person,” Yesenia stressed.  “People have feelings, and there’s no reason to be ashamed of them.  Or,” she took a deep breath and finished softly, “or afraid of them.”

          Mahdi looked up at her.  “But sometimes they’re so painful.”

          “And confusing,” added Yesenia understandingly.  “But they’re always there, to be dealt with in one way or another.  You can’t cover them up forever.  Or . . . run away from them.  Mahdi, I know that now.”

          “The night in the garden—“

          “I’m sorry.”

          Mahdi let escape a shuddering sigh and lowered his face into his hands.  “I was going to marry her,” he whispered.  “I was going to do it.”

          “And now?”

          He shook his head.  “I can’t, Yesenia.  That was never my place.  My mother realized it.  That’s why she gave me that loophole . . . which I convinced her I’d never need to use.”

          “Mahdi, I . . . I don’t understand.”

          “I had a brother.  He was two years older than me.  His name was Ahmed.”  Mahdi took another deep, controlled breath.  “Maybe you’re too young to remember, but about ten years ago there was instability among the Seven Deserts.  The Sultan of Pitosah had grown power-hungry.”

          “I remember,” murmured Yesenia.  “Continue.”

          “He came close to annexing Astaseez.  We didn’t want to go to war, so my father made a deal with him.  Ahmed would marry Shahina, the Sultan’s niece, when they were both of age.  Pitosah would then have a permanent alliance with Astaseez.  We could maintain both peace and our independence.  My father immediately agreed.

          “Ahmed was ready for it all his life.  Shahina was nine then; he was fifteen.  He would have done anything to please our parents and to keep the peace.  He was perfect: intelligent, loyal, fair, strong.  He would have made a fantastic Sultan.”

          “I’m sure he would have,” said Yesenia, giving Mahdi a small smile.  “He sounds like my brothers.”

          “He seemed to think he was invincible,” Mahdi continued.  “That he could take on the world and emerge without a bruise.  And despite the protestations of my parents, he did just that.

          “Our kingdom’s future was secure as long as the marriage bargain was maintained.  He had no plan of breaking it.  But he didn’t want security and peace for Astaseez only.  He wanted it for all the Seven Deserts.

          “He enlisted in Getzistan’s army and fought there for three years.  When he came home victorious, he was all the more convinced that he was capable of anything.  Less than a year later, he had enlisted in Tirvaltan’s army.  That’s where he was killed.

          “Within the same day, I lost my brother and was bumped up to the position of Astaseez’s heir.  The latter was easier for me to deal with.  So I threw myself into being everything that Ahmed was—and I agreed to make final any treaties that he had been unable to fulfill himself.  I thought that by doing this—by filling his shoes in every aspect of his life—I could somehow forget the fact that he was gone.  I wanted him to live through me.  I wanted my parents to be proud of Ahmed through me.”  He shook his head.  “It was crazy,” he admitted.  “It was stupid.  I could never be as good as Ahmed was.  And now I’ve gained nothing from all these years of pretending . . .”

          “But you have,” murmured Yesenia.  “Mahdi, you’ve become a strong and dedicated young man.  It’s obvious that all the kingdom is proud of you.”

          “What good does that do me?” scoffed Mahdi.  “They don’t even know who I am.  I don’t even know who I am . . .”

          “I know who you are,” Yesenia whispered.  “You’re the man that I love.”

          Mahdi didn’t speak.  He didn’t have to.  Yesenia slid her hands up his face, and gently drew him forward until his lips pressed against hers.  And for the first time in her life, she knew that she would finish what she’d started.

Chapter Four

            Jasmine’s hands shook as she read the letter before her.  She had to read it twice before it fully sank in.

          “What is it?” Aladdin asked.

          “Aladdin . . .” Jasmine’s voice shook with excitement.  “It’s Yesenia . . . Mahdi has sent a request asking for her hand.”

          “Let me see that.”  Aladdin snatched the folded piece of paper from Jasmine’s hands and read it himself.

          To Sultan Aladdin and his wife, Sultana Jasmine, proud rulers of Agrabah and parents of the Princess Yesenia:

          With utmost respect and admiration, I wish to profess my feelings of fidelity toward your daughter, Yesenia.  As her consent has already been gained, I request only your blessing to further our happiness.  Allah willing, we wish to be married, and with great anticipation await your instructions for the proceedings.

          Fondest Regards,

          Prince Mahdi of Astaseez.

          “Do you know what this means?”  Jasmine asked excitedly.  “If Yesenia marries Mahdi, my family’s blood-line will be restored to Astaseez.  Their children—Astaseez’s next heirs, will be of the same blood as my mother.  This almost seems too good to be true—“

          “Jasmine,” interrupted Aladdin, “what’s well for the kingdom isn’t always best for the individuals involved—“

          Jasmine waved his comment aside.  “Do you mean Yesenia?  Aladdin, she’s in love with him.  She’d never come right out and say it, but you read her letter.  The way she feels is obvious.  And from what she says, Mahdi seems more than suitable—“

          “That’s not what I’m talking about, Jasmine.  I know what this means to the kingdom.  I know what it means to Yesenia.  But think about what it means to us.”

          “I don’t understand what you mean,” said Jasmine.  She took the request from him and refolded it, turning away to set it upon her desk.

          “Jasmine, she’s our little girl.  It seems like only yesterday she learned to walk, and now . . .” He ran his fingers through his hair.  “It’s just that she grew up so fast.  Marriage means . . . that she’ll never be the same again.  That she’ll leave us to begin her own life.  That . . . that we’ll have to let her go.”

          When Jasmine turned toward Aladdin again, there were tears in her eyes.  For the first time, she saw the situation not as a Sultana or as an observer . . . she saw it as a mother.  And Aladdin’s implications hit home.

          “Oh Aladdin . . .” she whispered.

          He opened his arms to her and she allowed herself to be folded within their warmth.  And she wept.

          “How could this happen?” demanded Shahina angrily, storming into her uncle’s room.  “You told me that he only had one more document to sign before our engagement was final!”

          “He did,” Akil assured her.  “And he never signed it.”

          “You’re telling me.  The talk is that he’s engaged himself to that impertinent Yesenia.”  She stamped her foot in frustration.  “Ten years ago Pitosah was promised a share of Astaseez through my marriage to one of Tewfic’s sons.  As his royal advisor, you were suppose to keep instances like this from happening!”

          “Calm down, Shahina,” Akil said levelly.  “First of all, the engagement to Yesenia isn’t even official yet.  As far as we know, it could be servants’ gossip.”

          “I’ve been talking to Abdullahrahman,” said Shahina, “and he talked to Yesenia herself.  She’s confirmed the rumor.  They’re only waiting on Yesenia’s parents’ consent—and Allah knows they’ll give it.  From what I’ve heard about her, they’re probably thanking their lucky stars that they’ll finally be getting rid of her!”

          Akil’s mouth turned slowly up into an oily grin.  “Exactly.  Any Princess with that kind of reputation attached to her isn’t going to be one Tewfic approves of.  As it were, it seems that he doesn’t know as much about Yesenia’s impropriety as you and I do.”

          “Then all we have to do is tell him!” exclaimed Shahina.  “And our engagement will be secure again!  I can do it now—“

          “Not so fast,” commanded Akil.  “If you run to Tewfic with this information now, under these circumstances, he’ll write your comments off as jealous interference.  That does neither our purpose nor our reputation any good.”

          “But it’s all true!” cried Shahina.

          “Do you know that?” demanded Akil.

          “She doesn’t,” came a voice from just outside the door.  “But I do.”  The curtains were drawn aside, and Prince Abdullahrahman sauntered onto the scene.  “Sorry to intrude,” he began, “but I couldn’t help notice that your topic of conversation is one that I . . . have dealt personally with.”

          “There!” said Shahina triumphantly.  “I’ll go to Tewfic and tell him that Yesenia has been less than virtuous, and Abdullahrahman will stand as my witness to back me up.”

          Akil continued to shake his head.

          “In Allah’s name, why not?” demanded Shahina, exasperated.  “Who’s side are you on anyway, Uncle?”

          “Pitosah’s side to be sure,” he answered, “but in my position as Tewfic’s grand vizier, I must put up a font of acting on Astaseez’s best interests.  And if you two young people storm into Tewfic’s throne room demanding an audience, he’ll look at you with disfavor for your rudeness and ignore anything you have to say.  If,” he continued slyly, “on the other hand, I request a private meeting with him—“

          “He’ll listen!” exclaimed Shahina.  “What are you waiting for?”

          “Evidence,” said Akil calmly, steepling his fingers.  “I must present this issue to the Sultan subtly, and with the font of Astaseez’s best interest in mind.  And I must have something to back me up.”

          “I’ll provide that!” volunteered Abdullahrahman.  “I’ve had my own run-ins with Yesenia—“

          “And I appreciate your enthusiasm,” interrupted Akil.  “I may in fact draw on it.  But as a suitor scorned, Tewfic might detect an ulterior motive in your testimony as well.”

          “Then what are you going to do?” asked Shahina impatiently.

          “I was getting to that, my dear.  I’ll make a trip to Agrabah myself, with the intent of investigating the kingdom for it’s . . . suitability to an alliance with Astaseez.  While I’m there, I’ll pick up some choice pieces of gossip regarding Agrabah’s oldest Princess.  To put it simply, I’ll dig up some dirt on her to report to our Sultan.”

          Abdullahrahman smirked.  “I’m sure you’ll find plenty of that,” he said, “and where the citizens don’t supply information, I’ll be more than happy to . . . fill in the blanks.”

~        ~       ~        ~        ~       ~       ~

          Akil was amazed at Agrabah’s ability to prosper, despite all the adversities it had come up against.  Indeed—if he were here for the purpose he pronounced to be, he would return to Astaseez with the recommendation that very few kingdoms within the seven deserts would make an alliance such as could be made with Agrabah.  Perhaps in the future, he thought, another of Pitosah’s royal children will have to be attached to one of the Agrabanian heirs.  I hear there are five others besides Yesenia—surely one of them will agree to an alliance.  And if not, Pitosah’s military power would provide adequate . . . persuasion.  His lips turned up in a devious grin.  But that wasn’t the issue at hand—not now.

          He found his mission to be more difficult than he’d anticipated.  It wasn’t that there wasn’t any dirt to be found on Yesenia—he was certain there was.  It was just that he was having trouble finding citizens willing to talk about it.  Most of them carried a sense of loyalty to the Royal family that he found baffling.

          “Why, we’ve known them all their lives,” reported one woman.  She had a baby on her hip and another little boy stood watching from the doorway. 

          “Excuse me?” asked Akil.  This woman was obviously barely above the poverty level—why would she know the royal family?  Usually these were the classes most eager to chew on gossip—because it was the only information they could come across.

          “Oh, it was different when I was younger,” she recalled.  “I never saw the Princess’s face until she was . . . perhaps eighteen years old?  It was when the Sultan presented her and her fiancé to the people of Agrabah.  Of course, I was very young then, so I could hardly see above the crowd.  That was the first glimpse many of the citizens ever had of her.”

          Sounds typical, thought Akil. 

          “But ever since she married, and especially since Aladdin became Sultan, all that has changed.  They’ve been bringing the Royal children to the marketplace ever since they were little.  And let me tell you, they are a darling lot!”

          “I’m sure,” said Akil indifferently.  “But why do you suppose Yesenia has suddenly left Agrabah?”

          The woman shrugged, and tilted her head to keep her hair out of her baby’s exploring hands.  “They always were adventurous,” she said.  “Last year Ali went on an adventure of his own, and I imagine it’s Yesenia’s turn, that’s all.”

          “Don’t you find it a bit . . .odd?”

          “No, not really.”

          Akil knew he wouldn’t get what he wanted from this citizen.  He continued on his way.  He ran across a handful of others like her, but finally he found the people who were always willing to share speculations—and the more interesting the talk of scandal, the more eager the bearers of the news were to share it.

          “Oh, Yesenia, she’s always been a troublemaker,” remarked an older woman behind a fruit stand.  “Now Ali and Cassim, they were always such obedient children . . . but Yesenia.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t know what her parents are going to do with her.”

          “It seems to me that they’ve shipped her off to Astaseez for a few weeks to get her off their hands,” said Akil off-handedly.

          “Humph,” snorted the woman.  “There’s a lot more to that than meets the eye, if you ask me.”

          Akil slowly smiled.  “Do tell.”

          “Well, it so happens that the time of her departure was scheduled only a week or two after she’d been visited by her latest suitor, Prince Abdu-something.  Of course we villagers are always interested in the comings-and-goings of the suitors.  This particular man was from . . . Estenistan, I believe.  Very prosperous kingdom.

          “Anyway,” she continued, “we all have heard of Yesenia’s . . . lack of self-control.  It appears that she toys with the suitors in ways that are less than appropriate.  When this new fellow left that day, he was grinning from ear-to-ear, barely trying to hide his triumph.  Now, obviously a victory of some sort had been obtained, wouldn’t you say so, sir?”

          “Indeed,” he agreed.  “And . . .?”

          “Well, we all waited for a wedding announcement or the like . . . but none came.  And if it weren’t that sort of victory . . . well, I’m no stranger to the minds of men, mind you.  I’ve been married four times, and there’s only one thing that makes a man smile that way.

          “He had his way with her, no doubt,” she concluded.

          Akil gasped in feigned shock.

          “And that’s not all,” the woman continued, delighted by her rapt audience.  There was no reason that she couldn’t elaborate the story a bit more . . . for his sake.  After all, her opinion was as valid as anyone else’s, wasn’t it?  “As I said, no more than two weeks later, she had been shipped off to Astaseez.  There was no reason given for it—no reason at all.  Now, don’t you think that’s a bit peculiar?”

          “Very.” 

          “If you ask me, I’d say the time has finally come for Yesenia to . . . pay the consequences of her activity, shall we say?  No one knows how long she’ll be gone, but everyone knows that Astaseez is home to two suitable unwed young princes.  Now, I have two theories.”

          “I’d be delighted to hear them.”

          “First off, I think she’ll use her wiles to tempt one of those princes into a marriage offer with her.  This is a lovely kingdom for an alliance, and Yesenia isn’t a bad looking girl, for all her faults.  From what I hear, these two young men are very honorable.  She plans to hook herself up with one of them in the nick of time to . . .” She glanced around as if afraid of being overheard, and then continued, “cover her shame.”

          “Of course.”  Akil nodded.  Little did this woman know that her story was fitting into his plan perfectly.  And perhaps it was more than petty gossip.  After all, Yesenia had managed to get herself engaged to Mahdi in a very short amount of time . . .

         “And my second theory,” continued the woman, “is that she’s going to wait it out in Astaseez, so-to-speak.  I don’t think that the Sultan and his wife would be pleased with this kind-of scandal being visible to the eye.  Some things you can only hide for so long, if you catch my meaning.  And they gave no indication of when their daughter intended to return—only said that she would stay ‘as long as she felt necessary’.  I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if this length of time fits nicely into nine months.”

          “And then?” prompted Akil.

          “Why, if she hasn’t gotten herself attached by then, she’ll find someone else to raise the child, naturally.  She’ll come back to Agrabah as if nothing at all happened, thinking she can hide everything.  Well, maybe she will be able to keep it from some people.  But some of us are more astute than that.”

          “I can see that.”  The phrase was said with an overtone of compliment to it, and the woman blushed with pleasure.

          “It’s been quite an agreeable visit,” Akil said, “but I’m afraid I have things to do at home.”

          “Oh, I do hope I haven’t kept you too long.”

          “Not at all.”  Akil briefly bowed to the woman, kissed her hand, and turned away.  It was time to return to Astaseez—this bit of gossip would certainly serve him well there.

          “Oh, it’s perfect!” gasped Shahina.  “Do you think it’s true?”

          Akil waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.  “That’s not what’s important, Shahina.  All that matters is that it puts Yesenia’s integrity in question and raises doubts in Tewfic’s and Mahdi’s minds about the wisdom of this particular match.  Believe me, Shahina, I’ve seen Mahdi grow up.  He’s not going to join himself with a woman with this kind of scandal following her.  His sense of honor is greater than that.”

          Shahina smiled excitedly. “Are you going to talk to Tewfic?  Now?”

          Akil shook his head.  “Not yet.  First, I need you to do something.”

          “Me?”

          “Start the gossip circulating among the servants of this palace.  There is nothing a servant likes more than a juicy piece of gossip to chew on, and this more than fits the bill.  It’ll spread like a wildfire among them.  It’s bound to get to Tewfic and Mahdi within a matter of days.  Then, I'll present my case to the Sultan.  By that time, his mind will be made up.  Can you do that?”

          The corners of her mouth turned up.  “Gladly.”

          Yesenia had started to wonder about the servants in the palace.  She had never been treated so rudely in her life.  Her parents had brought her up with the belief that everyone deserved proper respect.  Even so, as royalty, she was constantly encountered with people who felt she was due more respect than the commoner.  But now, she found herself being treated no better than a criminal.

          Whenever she entered a room, it fell into silence.  Now, when she walked into the office of commerce, it was no exception.  There were two women servants sitting at a desk, sorting mail.

          “Excuse me,” began Yesenia, “but has a message arrived from Agrabah?”

          “We would have informed you if it had,” said one of them coldly, not looking up from the stacks in front of her.

          “I don’t know what you’re waiting for,” said the other.  “You know that anything from Agrabah would be addressed to our Princes and our Sultan.  They are the ones who make the decisions around here, you know.”

          “But Agrabah is my home kingdom,” Yesenia pointed out.

          “Are you rather attached to it?” asked the first servant.

          Yesenia blinked in surprise.  “I spent many happy years there,” she said.  “Yes, I guess I’m attached . . .”

          “Good,” said the second servant curtly, “because from the things I’ve heard, you won’t be staying here.”

          “What?” asked Yesenia.

          “Don’t play innocent like that.  You thought you could keep it from us, but you were wrong.  It’s only a matter of time before Mahdi hears it as well, and he’ll return to Shahina.  He never should have strayed from her in the first place.  I’m just glad it’ll be put right all within good time.”

          “I . . . I don’t understand,” stammered Yesenia.

          Now the servant dropped her letters in anger and stood up, facing Yesenia.  “You understand perfectly,” she said harshly.  “We’ve all heard what’s been said about you.  We know about your lack of virtue, Yesenia, and where it’s led you.  If you think you’re going to drag our innocent and honorable Mahdi into your mess, you’re quite mistaken.  He’ll have no part of you when he finds out.”

          Yesenia shook her head.  Ali’s warning echoed in her mind: I don’t want the people of Agrabah, or other kingdoms, for that matter, to start questioning your virtue . . .

          It was nothing serious, thought Yesenia.  I was only having fun . . .

          Yet, she’d never come up against such scorn . . . such obvious contempt.  And from the servants!  What if they were right?  What if Mahdi truly did want no part of her, just because . . .

          For the first time, she regretted her actions.  For the first time, she saw life as more than a game.  She turned away and ran from the room before the servants could have the satisfaction of seeing her tears.

          “Mahdi, I’ve been thinking about this,” started the Sultan delicately.  “And maybe we rushed into things with Yesenia.  I know that the agreements had that loophole in them, but perhaps you should reconsider.”

          Mahdi looked up, surprised.  “Father, I don’t understand.  Shahina’s family knew about that loophole as well as we did, and Agrabah makes as good a political match as Pitosah.  Better, in fact.   You said yourself that Yesenia’s bloodline is from here originally . . .”

          “Mahdi, I’ve . . . been hearing things.”

          Mahdi shook his head.  “It’s servants’ gossip, Father.  Pay it no heed.”

          “You’ve heard it?” asked the Sultan, surprised.

          “Bits and pieces, yes.  And you know that where royalty is concerned people are bound to talk.  Especially if a . . . relationship . . . is involved.”

          “Mahdi . . . they—they aren’t talking about you.”

          “Father—“

          The Sultan held up his hand for silence.  “I had a meeting with my advisor this morning, Mahdi.  He recently made a trip to Agrabah and heard some things about Yesenia . . .”

          “People will always talk, father.  It doesn’t mean it’s true.”

          “Nonetheless, I don’t think I want a woman with that kind of reputation attached to our kingdom.”

          “Father, are you saying . . .?”

          He nodded solemnly.  “Yes.  I’d like the marriage betrothal to be dissolved.”

          “Just because of a couple rumors?”

          “Rumors with very serious implications,” Tewfic reminded him.  “There is even talk that she could be with child.”

Silence fell.  Mahdi clenched and unclenched his fists.  Father and son refused to look at one another, not even when the Sultan broke the silence.  “There’s a grain of truth in every rumor, Mahdi.  If the things they’ve been saying are true . . . I’m sure you understand.  Think of the kingdom.”

          “No!  Father . . . I can’t do this to her.  Abdullahrahman came to me one night a little over a week ago.  He told me things similar to what the servants are saying now.  I almost let her go because of that, Father.  I’m not going to do that again.  I’m not.  I don’t care what you say, and I don’t care what they say either.”

          Tewfic sighed.  “She’s just a Princess like any other, Mahdi.  Why do you feel this . . . loyalty to her?”

          “It’s more than loyalty, Father.  It’s gratitude and it’s . . .” Mahdi didn’t have the courage to finish, but his father read the direction the thought was going.

          “Mahdi, surely you’re not saying—“

          “She taught me something that neither you nor mother nor my tutors ever had the courage to teach me.  I’m human, Father—“

          “Of course you’re human—with all the human weaknesses.”

          “What does that mean?”

          “My son, don’t think that I’m a stranger to the ways of women.  If the things they say about Yesenia are true, I don’t blame you for . . . buckling under the pressure.  But there is no need for anyone to know about it.  Whatever she’s done or said to you is probably the same thing she’s done and said to someone else.  You have no sense of obligation to her—“

          “I can’t believe what you’re saying!” cried Mahdi.  It was the first time in his life he’d ever expressed anger toward his father.  “You think I’m doing this out of a sense of obligation?  Because . . .” Mahdi shook his head.  “No, father.  The only obligation I have is to my heart, and that is one that will not be ignored.”

          The muscles of Tewfic’s jaw tensed.  He’d never been defied like this by his son before, and he didn’t like what was happening now.  “You’re acting selfishly,” he said, his voice soft with controlled anger.

          “Don’t make me feel ashamed,” warned Mahdi, turning away from his father.

          “Mahdi, I’m not done talking to you yet!” said Tewfic. “Your obligation to the kingdom—“

          “Father, we’ve been through this already,” said Mahdi impatiently.  “My marriage to Yesenia fulfills that obligation.  Alliances, heirs . . . everything will be satisfied.  Not only that, but for the first time in my life, I’ll be happy.”

          “Think of what your brother would have done in this situation.”

          The statement hit the mark.  In pain, Mahdi turned away.  “No,” he whispered.  “You won’t do this to me, Father.  I loved Ahmed, and I admired him.  For five years, I tried my hardest to be him.  But it couldn’t happen, Father.  You know that as well as I.”

          “Mahdi, when he died, he left you with certain . . . duties.”

          “Look at me, Father!” cried Mahdi, spreading his arms helplessly. “Do you honestly see Ahmed?  Do you?”  His voice choked, and ashamed, he turned away.  “Maybe you did,” he whispered.  “Maybe for five years I saw the same thing.  But there is one person who saw me and only me when she looked in my direction.  That was Yesenia, Father.  And that makes all the difference.”

          When he left the room, his father stared after him in utter shock, and realized that he had never truly known his second-born son.

          Mahdi hadn’t been completely truthful with his father.  To say that the rumors hadn’t shaken his faith at all would be a lie.

          They did scare him.  What if they were true?  The thought of Yesenia playing with him, as first presented by Abdullahrahman, was bad enough.  But using him?  To cover her own shame . . .?

          Yet, he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions—not again, not the way he had before.  Now the thought of losing Yesenia was too painful, and the doubts in his mind weren’t enough to justify putting himself through that.

          Besides, his doubts were erased as soon as he arrived in her room.

          Maybe he should have knocked—but lately they’d become so close that it hadn’t crossed his mind.  Yet, when he came upon her in her room, she was thrown across the bed, her head buried in her arms and her black curls tumbling over her arms and obscuring her face.  Her shoulders shook. 

          It was the first time that Mahdi had ever seen her cry.

          “Yesenia,” he said softly.

          She looked up, and her eyes met his.  She quickly pulled herself into a sitting position and swiped at the tears on her cheek.  Not wanting him to see her this way, she turned away and stared out the window.

          “You heard what they said,” she whispered.

          “I’ve been hearing it for a few days now,” he admitted. “And just now my father has confronted me.”

          Yesenia glanced over her shoulder.  She tried not to let the fear show in her voice as she asked, “What will you do now?”

          “The same as I would have done before,” he answered.  “Except now, I’m even more determined.  Now, I do it for you as well as for me.”

          “Mahdi . . .?”

          He swallowed hard.  It wasn’t easy for him to bring up this topic with her.  It would be even harder for her to hear it, but she had to know how he felt; she had to know that he was doing this with complete knowledge of what was happening.

          “I’ll marry you as soon as you want it,” he murmured.  “This doesn’t change the way I feel about you.  I’ll cover your shame.”

          Yesenia shook her head.  “I don’t understand . . .”

          “I’ll claim the child, Yesenia.”

          She gasped, and moved her hand to cover her mouth in utter shock.  There was sickness in her heart as she realized what Mahdi had struggled with, why the servants had scorned her . . . and how much he must truly care about her.  “By Allah . . . that’s what they’re saying?  It’s no wonder . . .”

          Yesenia shook her head.  “No, Mahdi.  It isn’t true.”  Her voice choked.  If only she had listened to Ali’s warnings!  If she hadn’t given them sufficient “evidence”, they never could have concocted this terrible rumor!

          “My father had the information from his grand vizier—“

          “I didn’t trust him from the moment I laid eyes on him,” said Yesenia contemptuously. 

          “Abdullahrahman confirmed it,” Mahdi added.

          “It’s a lie!” cried Yesenia vehemently.  She took a deep breath to steady her voice.  “Mahdi, I have to tell you what is true so you’ll believe me when I tell you what isn’t.  I never was completely virtuous with my suitors.  I played with them . . . I kissed them, but . . . it was only a game.  It never went that far, Mahdi.  I swear it.”

          “I believe you,” he murmured.  “The hard part will be getting the rest of the kingdom to do the same.  Abdullahrahman’s story is more exciting than the truth, Yesny.  And the people love an adventure.  They love a scandal even more.”

          All those years of listening to servants’ gossip came tumbling through Yesenia’s mind.  She remembered the way she had giggled with Ali, and his gentle reprimanding when he told her that not everything she heard whispered in the hall was the truth.  But Mahdi was right . . . she’d been one of the most eager searchers for adventure . . . at any cost.  And now the stakes were higher than they’d ever been before.  Not only the respect of both her home kingdom and Astaseez, but the respect of the only man she had ever or would ever love also hung in the balance.

          “I believe you,” repeated Mahdi.  “But to convince the others, we’d need witnesses.  And all we have as of now is your word against Abdullahrahman’s.”

          “But in time they’ll see that I’m telling the truth,” said Yesenia.  “Mahdi, these things can only be hidden for so long.  When a few months pass and . . .” She shook her head.  “They’ll see the rumors for what they are.”

          “It might be too late by then.”

          Yesenia thought she heard Mahdi’s voice catch, and she looked up to meet his eyes.  That’s when the full impact of his implication hit her.  Women could be killed for this offense.

          And then she saw the other side of the coin.  Doubts shadowed her mind.  What if Mahdi wasn’t offering to do this because he truly believed in her virtue, or because he loved her?  What if he was only doing it because he didn’t want her blood to be on his hands?  What if, like his betrothal to Shahina, this was only another duty that honor demanded he carry out?

          She studied his face, but it was perfectly composed . . . like the first time she’d met him.  Was he tuning her out?  Had he already passed his judgment?

          “Mahdi,” she whispered, “look at me now, and tell me what you see.  After all these rumors . . . and the things they say . . . what have I become in your eyes?”  For it was only his eyes that mattered.  She could handle the scorn of kingdoms as long as she had him by her side.

          “I see,” he murmured, “the same thing I’ve always seen. And I know what I’ve always known . . . since the moment I saw you, even though I would have died before I’d admit it.  I love you.  I did then, and I do now, whether these accusations are true or not.  That’s not what matters.  This is.”

          He came toward her and enveloped her in his arms.  She crumbled against him and sobbed, but this time, it was tears of happiness that wet his shoulder.

Chapter Five

“No,” whispered Jasmine.  “No, this can’t be . . .”

          “What is it?” asked her husband.  With trembling hands, Jasmine passed the letter to Aladdin.

          To the Sultan and Sultana of Agrabah, parents of Princess Yesenia:

          It is my sad duty to inform you that, although we have received your written blessing of Mahdi’s and Yesenia’s union, this particular marriage cannot take place. 

          I have had word from my advisor and others who will remain anonymous that Yesenia has been unfaithful not only to my son, but to her very own honor.  These are qualities that make her unfit to marry my oldest son and someday become Sultana of Astaseez.  You are probably aware that Mahdi has had an engagement with Princess Shahina of Pitosah for quite some time.  This engagement will be renewed in short order. 

          I am sorry about your daughter, but you know as well as I what the penalty is for this kind of infidelity.  Please understand that I say these things with proper respect for your family.  As rulers of Agrabah, I’m sure you realize that the good of the kingdom comes first.

          With regrets,

                   Sultan Tewfic of Astaseez

          Ali entered the room then, to find both his parents pale and speechless.  “Dad . . . Mom—“ He rushed to her side and took her cold and shaking hands in his own.  “What happened?”

          Aladdin didn’t speak.  He handed the letter back to his wife and turned away from both of them.  Jasmine reached out a hand to touch him, but then thought again and drew it back.

          “We’ve had news from Astaseez,” whispered Jasmine. 

          “Let me see.”  Ali took the letter from his mother’s hands.  His eyes widened as he read the words, and anger built within him.

          “No,” he said firmly.  “It can’t be true . . .”

          Jasmine’s hand moved to cover her mouth.  “We should have kept a better eye on her . . . we shouldn’t have let what she did with the suitors . . . get out of hand.”

          “No, Jasmine.”  Aladdin spoke for the first time.  Ali stepped aside as he pulled his wife against him, holding her shaking body in his arms.  “Don’t blame yourself . . .”

          “You were right.  We never should have let her go . . .”

          “We’ll get through this.  We’ll find a way.  It must have been a misunderstanding . . .” Aladdin didn’t even allow himself to think about the alternative.

          “It’s more than a misunderstanding!” cried Ali.  “It’s a lie!”

          “It’s our word against theirs, Ali,” whispered Jasmine gently.

          “But our words are the truth!”

          “Ali, don’t rush into this,” Jasmine warned him.  “It’s a delicate situation . . .”

          “We can’t just stand here,” said Ali.  “I’m not going to, anyway.  I know that what Tewfic says is a lie, and I’m going to defend Yesenia’s honor.”

          “Ali, where are you going?” asked Aladdin as his son headed toward the door.

          He looked over his shoulder.  “I’m telling the stable-boy to saddle Reeh.  I’m not going to sit here at home and wait while my sister’s honor is in danger.”

          Just as he was about to leave, he ran into the twins.

          “What’s going on in here?” demanded Najila.

          “Hey, why does everyone else get to be up?” asked Nasir.

          Najila put her hands on her hips.  “You were being awfully loud, and I’d like an explanation.”

          In spite of everything, Ali smiled.  She had just done a perfect imitation of their mother when she was angry.

          Jasmine sighed and looked at the twins, and then at Ali.  “Ali, wake up Cassim,” she commanded, her voice holding the authority of both mother and Queen.  “Tell him to help the twins get packed.  We’re going to Astaseez.”

          “I feel so betrayed,” murmured Mahdi.  His head was held in his hands, and there was an expression of pain on his face.

          Hadi placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “Don’t believe what they say,” he said.  “So what if it is true, Mahdi?  You love Yesenia, and she loves you.  You can get past this.”

          Mahdi shook his head.  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Hadi.  It’s father.”

          Hadi sighed, and had to bite back his desire to say something disrespectful.

          “He’s written Agrabah, Hadi,” Mahdi continued miserably.  “He’s withdrawn the marriage offer.”  He swallowed hard.  “It was all just a game,” he murmured.  “All this time I thought I had independence.  I thought I could make a decision and have that decision honored.  I thought I could say the word and change my life for the better.  None of it was true, Hadi.  When it comes down to it, I’m as powerless as I was as a child.  Father is Sultan.  His word is law.  I was foolish to ever think I was above that.”

          “Father’s word is foolishness,” snapped Hadi, “and I only wish he’d see it as such.  He’s putting this abstract ideal of honor before the very real issue of your happiness.”

          Mahdi shook his head.  “This should be easy for me,” he said.  “I was resigned to marrying Shahina for five years of my life.  Why can’t I just slip into the position of being resigned to it again?”

          “Because you aren’t the same person you were then.”

          “I feel like everything has been in vain,” admitted Mahdi.  “So I lived through a few weeks of total happiness.  Where does that leave me now?  No better than when I started . . .” He sighed.  “It would have been better if we had never met at all.”

          “Do you truly believe that, Hadi?  Would you so willingly sacrifice the only time you’ve been truly happy just because sadness might follow?  Don’t you take that risk any time you feel happiness?”

          “I don’t know,” murmured Mahdi.  “This is the first time I ever had been happy . . .”

          “It’ll turn out all right in the end, Mahdi.”

          “How can you say that?” demanded Mahdi, turning on his brother.  “Father has spoken.  And in less than a week, unless some miracle occurs, Yesenia will be . . .” Mahdi’s voice broke.  He couldn’t say the words.

          “Then expect a miracle.”

          Yesenia sat alone in her room.  She hadn’t seen Mahdi in almost a week, but she knew what had happened.  All her tears had been spent, and rather than being resigned to her fate, she simply felt numb.  She had felt more emotion when she’d read about this kind of situation in her adventure stories.

          They’ll execute you, she thought, because you have no witnesses, and a man’s word always holds more weight than a woman’s does . . .

          She thought about her family.  By now, they would have received the letter the Sultan wrote them dissolving the marriage.  Would they believe the things that were said about her?  Would she have a chance to see them before . . ?

          There was a knock on the door, mercifully interrupting her thoughts.  “Princess Yesenia,” the servant said, cold and formal.  “Your family is here.”

          When Yesenia entered the main hall, she discovered that it wasn’t only her family that waited there.  It was everyone involved in this mess—Tewfic, Mahdi, Hadi, Abdullahrahman, Akil, Shahina, and even her father, Casimir.

          Yesenia wanted to rush forward and throw herself into her father’s embrace, but Tewfic extended an arm, barring her path.

          “Tewfic, you can’t do this,” stated Aladdin angrily. 

          “I dislike it as much as you do,” said the Sultan of Astaseez wearily, “but as a Sultan yourself, you must understand.  The penalty is death for such infidelity.”

          “I know the law,” snapped Aladdin. “Execution of a criminal is justice.  Execution of an innocent is murder.”

          “So like a father to overlook faults in his daughter,” said Abdullahrahman haughtily. 

          Aladdin glared at him.

          “Wait,” said Jasmine, stepping forward.  “There are rumors of a child.”  She looked pointedly at her daughter, and Yesenia felt heat rise to her face.  She wanted to cry out that it wasn’t true, but she knew her mother wasn’t finished yet.

          “I’ve studied the laws my entire life,” she continued.  “And in this sort of situation, if the crime she is being accused of is one she committed, her punishment awaits.  But, it is a crime in itself to kill an unborn baby, a crime also punishable by death if the child is of royal blood.”

          Tewfic was silent.  Finally, he assented.  “Very well,” he said, “there will be a grace period until the child’s birth.  Afterwards, we will deal with Yesenia accordingly.”

          Hope rose within Yesenia.  As time passed, it would become apparent that there was no child . . . and that the talk of infidelity was only that—talk.

          “That’s not enough,” said Ali.  “It won’t be enough until the honor of my sister is cleared.”

          “You can’t erase the past,” said Abdullahrahman off-handedly.  “I’ll tell you what.  Since a bit of this fiasco can be blamed upon myself, I’ll provide an ultimatum.  I’ll marry her.”

          Yesenia gasped, and Abdullahrahman gave her a wicked smile over his shoulder.

          “No!” she cried.

          “You’ve been offered a generous solution,” said Tewfic coldly.  “I would advise you to take it.”

          “They’re all lies!” exclaimed Ali.  “I grew up with Yesenia—I know her.”

          “Your loyalty to this wench is admirable,” commented Abdullahrahman.  “But you weren’t in the room that day, were you?”

          “I . . .” Ali sputtered.  If only he had been there!  But he hadn’t seen Abdullahrahman until he’d left, when he had that grin on his face that spread from ear-to-ear . . .

          “I was!”

          Everyone turned toward the voice.  Najila stepped defiantly out of her family’s protective circle.

          “Najila!” warned Cassim.  He placed his hand on her shoulder.

          “I was there,” she continued, raising her chin.  “And so was Nasir.” 

          Abdullahrahman’s face drained.  “You weren’t,” he said.  “It was only Yesenia and me.”

          Najila shook her head.  “We were spying, weren’t we Nasir?”

          He nodded, a proud smile on his face.  “We hid behind the curtain on the window-seat.  You didn’t even hear us, did you?”

          Abdullahrahman opened his mouth to protest, but Tewfic held up his hand for silence.  “What did you see?” he asked.

          “First he told her about the kingdoms his father had conquered,” began Nasir.  “And Yesenia told him to tell her more, so he did.  He talked for a long time.”

          Najila giggled.

          “And then what?” pressed Tewfic.

          “She kissed him!” announced Najila.  “Like she does with all her suitors.”

          Yesenia’s face heated.

          “And?”

          “Really!” interrupted Abdullahrahman.  “Do you think it’s appropriate to have children talking about such things?”

          “Let them finish,” said Tewfic.  “They’re the only witnesses we have.”  He didn’t even look at the Prince.

          Najila shrugged.  “That’s all.”

          “Yeah, but remember when he looked away?” reminded Nasir.

          Najila started laughing.  “Yeah!  Yesny got this look on her face.”  Najila scrunched her own face up in an imitation.  A few people in the room allowed laughter to escape.

          “His lips were too dry,” Najila informed the crowd.

          Tewfic was still perfectly composed as he turned back to Abdullahrahman.  “Well,” he said, “a bit different from your narrative, isn’t it?”

          “Sire!”

          “I’ve heard enough,” said Tewfic harshly.  He turned to Yesenia.  “Is this the way it happened?”

          She nodded.

          “Abdullahrahman?” Tewfic turned to the Prince, but from the stern-ness in his voice, it was obvious he had already made his decision.

          “I . . . they’re only children!” cried Abdullahrahman in defense. 

          “My children don’t lie,” said Jasmine, piercing Abdullahrahman with a cold stare.

          “You should be ashamed,” said Mahdi, speaking for the first time.

          “I . . .” Abdullahrahman glanced around until his eyes rested on Shahina and Akil.  “It was their idea.  I only said I would help them out!”

          Shahina gasped.  “How dare you?”  She turned to her uncle.  “Akil!  You promised me . . .”

          “Your majesty, it was all an honest mistake,” began Akil, backing away as the Sultan strode toward him.  “How was I to know it was only a rumor?  My liege, I was as taken in as you were . . .”

          “Oh, no you don’t!” cried Shahina. “If I leave in disgrace, so do you!  It was your idea to dig up dirt on her!”

          “So there is the reason behind your business trip to Agrabah, Akil?”

          “Sire . . .”

          Tewfic waved his hand dismissively.  “I’m tired of this.  Get out of my kingdom, all three of you.”

          “But what about the marriage contract?” objected Shahina.

          “It doesn’t hold up under these circumstances,” said Tewfic coldly.  “Do you realize it is a capital offense to lie to a Sultan?  By letting you go back to Pitosah, I’m being merciful.”

          “Your kindness is appreciated, my Lord,” said Akil.

          “No need to call me that anymore, Akil,” remarked Tewfic.  “You are no longer in my service.”

          Shahina turned to Casimir.  “Daddy!” she whined.

          He raised his hand.  “Silence, Shahina.”  He jerked his head toward the door.  “The caravan.  We’ll talk about this at home.”

          Shahina’s lower lip trembled, but she turned away before anyone was allowed to see the kohl lining her eyes run.

          Casimir stepped forward.  “Please accept my deepest apologies for my daughter’s behavior, Sultan Tewfic, Sultan and Sultana of Agrabah.”  He shook his head.  “She shames me.”

          “Apology accepted,” said Jasmine warmly.  “We can’t always be responsible for our children’s actions.”

          He smiled at her, and then turned to Abdullahrahman.  He clapped him on the shoulder.  “Come along, young man,” he said.  “We’ll drop you off on the way home.”

          “But—“

          “I think any business you have is finished here.”    

          Abdullahrahman sighed, and let the older man lead him away.

          “Well,” said Tewfic, “now that that’s settled.”  He turned toward his son, who had happily gathered Yesenia in his arms the moment the truth was revealed.  “How soon would you like to set a date?”

          “This means you’re not coming home, doesn’t it?” asked Najila, her eyes wide.

          Yesenia nodded.  “Yes,” she murmured, “it means I’ll live here in Astaseez.  But don’t worry—I’ll visit you often.”

          “It won’t be the same,” muttered Nasir.

          “No, it won’t,” admitted Yesenia, “neither for me nor for you.  Don’t you realize that the two of you will return to Agrabah as heroes?”

          Najila clapped her hands excitedly.  “Really?”

          “She’s right,” commented Jasmine.  She was kneeling on the floor, making last-minute adjustments to her daughter’s wedding robes.  “If it weren’t for you, this wedding may not have been able to happen.  We’re all very proud of you.”

          The twin’s faces burst into wide grins.  “And all we did was spy!”

          “You see,” said Yesenia, “a little mischief can come in handy now and then.”  She winked at the twins.

          “Don’t encourage them too much, Yesenia.”

          Ali looked warmly at his sister.  “I can’t believe this,” he murmured.  “Here you stand in wedding attire, Yesny, and just yesterday we were running around the palace wreaking havoc . . .”

          “Well, now I’ll just have to run around this palace wreaking havoc.”

          Ali laughed.  “Don’t give Tewfic as many headaches as you gave Dad.”

          “I’ll try not to.”

          He sighed.  “You know, Yesenia, I remember you saying that you’d never get married.  You said that it would take all the fun out of life.”

          She shrugged and smirked.  “I changed my mind.”

          “Hold still, Yesenia,” commanded Jasmine.  “I’ve almost got your dress ready.”

          Yesenia squirmed.  “This is uncomfortable.  I can’t wait to get out of it when this is finished.”

          “I’m not going to pursue that topic with you, Yesny,” commented Ali.

          Yesenia giggled.

          “There.”  Jasmine stood up and took a step back to admire her daughter.  Although she had been trying not to let them, tears filled her eyes.

          “Mom,” said Yesenia, “don’t start crying, or you’ll make me do it, too.”

          “I’m sorry.”  She turned away, brushing at the tears at her cheek.  “It’s just that you’re all grown up . . .”

          “Trust me, Mother,” Yesenia said, “I’ll never be grown up.”

          “You may not realize it, Yesenia,” Jasmine murmured, “but you already are.  You’re not the same girl who left home over a month ago.  I knew it from the moment I saw you in the grand hall when we arrived.  You’re a woman.”

          Yesenia looked away.

          “You look pretty!” exclaimed Nasir, breaking the tension.  He had sneaked into the dressing room, even though he was supposed to be waiting in the wedding Pavilion with Aladdin.

          “Thank-you,” murmured Yesenia.

          “That was an understatement,” whispered Ali.  “You look beautiful.”

~        ~        ~        ~

          “They should be out any minute,” commented Aladdin.  He was in the wedding pavilion with Mahdi.  He had made his visit to Yesenia early that morning.

          Aladdin sighed, and placed a hand on Mahdi’s shoulder.  “I’d tell you to take good care of her, but Yesny takes care of herself.”

          Mahdi smiled.  “I’ve noticed.”

          “Be good to her,” Aladdin murmured.

          “It’s a promise, Your Majesty.”

          The tone of the musician’s song changed, and everyone in the pavilion turned toward the doorway.  The twins entered first, and Najila dropped flowers along the path on which Yesenia would walk.  The bride herself followed close behind, her long robes trailing on the marble floor.

          Aladdin found his wife standing beside the door.  Their eyes locked, and they exchanged sad smiles.  He knew they were thinking the same thing.

          She’s our little girl.

          The ceremony was long, but Mahdi and Yesenia hardly noticed.  Yesenia didn’t take her gaze off Mahdi’s face for a second, and as she looked into his dark brown eyes, she knew that the greatest adventure of all was just beginning.

The End