Chapter 35
Apprehend
"I did not give permission to employ torture." Aladdin's voice was grim as he still would not take his seat at the head of the table. He stood looking down upon councilors who had routinely defied him but now appeared to respect, even fear him to some extent. Jasmine wondered just how much had changed since she had last set foot in this room.
"We do not torture anyone, not even our enemies. Not even in war. We have other means of getting information from prisoners, ways that are more effective but painless. Is that understood?" he continued, glaring pointedly at several individuals who kept their eyes downcast. They nodded, acquiescing to an order they no doubt found unreasonable. It was universally accepted that enemies forfeited all rights upon capture, and torture was an efficient tool to extract information. But Agrabah's sultan was different. And Genie was not in attendance tonight, but the councilors should have remembered that they had a jinni's magic at their disposal.
It was too late to take back what had been done to the recently captured Bindari spy. Nonetheless the information he had yielded was useful. There were at least three more spies in the city. The first attack against the kingdom would likely come from the north. Genie had fortified that area immediately, drawing a barrier that might hold for a week before it would need to be renewed.
A servant suddenly entered the room in a blatant breach of protocol, his steps rigid with apprehension and urgency. His words were for the sultan alone, and Aladdin's stern expression changed to one of worry as the man whispered a message in his ear. The next moment he ordered a vizier to preside over the rest of the meeting and moved to leave, pausing only to throw a meaningful glance in her direction. She waited a tense second before following him.
The servant was a medic, she realized from the terse words that passed between him and her husband. There was no one else with them as they hurried down the halls toward a destination she knew all too well in her dreams. She trailed behind as they reached the curtained entrance, now unable to move as her husband parted the thick webs and went inside.
She had never been this close to knowing. Beyond the door was the nameless, faceless, voiceless girl who had unwittingly encroached upon the dignity and authority of Agrabah's queen. The servant had said she was ill and weak, and in her delirium she had called for the sultan. As if the sultan were duty-bound to wait on her.
Jasmine moved closer to the door with purposeful steps. She could look now or stay forever ignorant, for she would not bring herself near this place again.
With steady hands she parted the layered curtains, acutely aware that her right hand was empty.