Chapter 3
Jafar
Mortified by Anjum's reaction, Jafar slowed to a halt. What could he have said? Obviously she was furious for some reason, but for the life of him, Jafar couldn't think why. A slow flush crept up his narrow cheeks as he realized he would have to pass by her desk to exit the Repository. Maybe she's not there, a hopeful little voice pointed out. She could be anywhere in here, not just at her desk. Besides, he reminded himself, he was the vizier. He shouldn't have to creep around the Repository lest he run into Anjum again. Straightening his shoulders, he walked towards the door of the Repository, past Anjum's desk…which was as she had left it. Thankful, Jafar left the Repository.
Anjum
She hadn't meant to run away like that. But the vizier's comment caught her completely off guard. For some reason, Anjum felt if she had responded she would have crossed some kind of threshold. So instead she ran.
She moved into one of the storage rooms, blessedly empty to catch her breath. As she did, she started to pace, annoyed with herself.
"Never, in all these years," she hissed to herself, "have I run away from…well, from anything!" She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, still pacing. Suddenly she stopped as a thought hit her like a bolt of lightning. "He'll think I'm such a fool," Anjum whispered, mortified. She sunk her head into her hands. Who knows? Perhaps he could have helped her become the actual, official Head. Well, not anymore.
She groaned into her palms. Why, why, why had she run away? I probably ruined my credibility with the vizier, she thought miserably. Not that it would stay that way for long. All the vizier had to do was ask anyone, and he would hear all about how important to the Repository she was. How valuable as a source. How talented at finding just the right text… Anjum straightened her shoulders. Her credibility was not ruined. If that vizier wanted to nose around, she could always claim a sudden, short illness had caused her to dash off. Anjum nodded to herself. There was no use in getting so upset over such a minor thing. After all, there was work to be done. Her Repository needed her.
That Night- Anjum
She moved silently through the aisles, her hair flowing down around her face. She had been part way through a treatise on architecture the night before. Where is it? People were forever rearranging the books, to Anjum's great annoyance. Ah! There it is! She took down the scroll, running her fingers along the soft papyrus paper. Holding the scroll gently, she turned to go back to her room at the back of the Repository.
As she turned she suddenly heard one of the large doors at the front of the room slide being pushed open. Anjum turned in surprise. Who could that be at this hour? Her surprise quickly hardened. Nobody had any business being here at this time of night. Raising her oil lamp higher, she set off for the front of the room, and then changed direction as she heard soft footsteps. Her light cast flickering shadows before her, teasingly pointing the way. She turned once more…into the agriculture section? But there was the intruder, bent over an open scroll, hastily jotting notes on a scrap of parchment.
"The Repository is closed for the night," Anjum said clearly. The figure in front of her jumped at the sound of her voice, then straightened and turned to face her.
Jafar
She must walk like a cat, to have come upon him unawares. He turned, sheepish at being surprised, a mild apology on his lips…but the sound died in his throat. The lamp in her hand cast a golden tinge to her pale skin, and the light reflected gloriously off a black river cascading down her shoulders. Her vibrant eyes held all the firmness of an empress. Jafar laughed quietly at the thought, for she was the empress of her realm. Her look changed to puzzlement.
"What is so amusing?"
"A passing thought," Jafar replied, smoothly for once. "You are right. I am here after hours, but I had need." He gestured at the paper behind him. "Production records of the last ten years."
"I see," Anjum said. "And you couldn't have gotten this earlier because of why?" She tilted her head, causing her hair to shift with the sound of whispering silk. Jafar momentarily wondered if the hair was as soft as it looked.
"I didn't know I needed it earlier," he said, bringing himself back to reality. "I do my best work at night." Then he froze, hoping his statement hadn't sounded too much like an innuendo. But it must not have, for Anjum was nodding in agreement.
"I understand," she said, "but that's no excuse. In the future, plan what you need, and give me a list. I'll have the texts sent to you." Then she pointed to the scroll he had been using. "Are you done with that yet?"
"No, I-"
"Then you may as well borrow it for now. Do try to return it by tomorrow. I don't generally let my books go wandering." She held her light higher, watching as Jafar marked his place and rewound the scroll. He turned his back, but he was sure he could still feel her gaze, piercing him somewhere between the shoulder blades. He swallowed, and turned again to meet the strong gaze of Anjum's gem-like eyes. She gestured behind toward the large main doors.
"I'll walk you out." Jafar bowed in gratitude and lifted his own oil lamp. They walked silently toward the doors, Jafar wrestling with the question if he should mention his accidental insult earlier. He sighed quietly. An apology certainly wouldn't hurt to smooth things over. It appeared Anjum could be very helpful when she wasn't angry. Helpful with the books, he told himself firmly. She's not a slave to use. Get yourself together. Jafar cleared his throat.
"Anjum, about earlier…" He saw her shoulders tighten, the deliberately relax.
"Yes?" She sounded guarded, but not angry. Encouraged, Jafar continued.
"I'm sorry. I don't know how I managed to insult you, but-"
"Insult?" she asked incredulously, swinging around to face him. "You didn't insult me."
"I didn't?" Jafar was amazed. "But when you left, I looked…"
"Yes, I, ah, was taken by a momentary sickness." Anjum interrupted hastily. "Fortunately all is well, but you know how it can be." Her clear eyes flickered momentarily to the side, and Jafar knew she was lying. He always knew when somebody lied to him.
"You're quite sure I didn't anger you in some way?" he asked gently, half fearing her response. But she shocked him again, favoring him with another slight smile.
"I'm certain," she said just as gently. She jerked her head. "Let's go. We both need to get back to work." They started walking again.
"Work? What do you have to do at this time of night?" Jafar was honestly curious.
"I read," Anjum said calmly, then let another tiny smile escape. "Perhaps 'work' is not quite the correct term. I spend my nights reading, partially for pleasure, partially to become familiar with the books I take care of."
"And that's how you know everything about this place, isn't it?" Anjum laughed softly.
"It is indeed, good vizier. But," she said, pausing in front of the slightly open door, "here is where we part for the night." Jafar slid through the opening, then looked back over his shoulder, one long fingered hand still grasping the door.
"Good night. And if it's not inappropriate of me….you have very beautiful hair." He caught a glimpse of her shocked face, one hand springing to her hair, before he closed the door behind him. He smiled slightly to himself as he set back towards his chambers. All in all, it hadn't been a bad night.
