Chapter 36
Jamb
The main room was just as she had imagined, smothered so thickly with luxury that the walls and ceiling seemed uncomfortably close to the skin. She could hear the fear in the surrounding silence, the averted gazes of women born and bred to serve. Her feet made no sound over the lush carpet, and her eyes did not move from her destination, a side hall lined with doors. The last room was special, set aside for the one the sultan had chosen.
The medic was waiting at the end of the hall, wringing his hands nervously as she approached. Ignoring his apprehension, she moved past him to part the curtains, pinning each layer to the hook on the doorframe. A breath and a step, and she was inside.
The canopy obscured the figure on the bed. Still faceless, nameless. But no longer soundless, as a hacking cough tapered into muffled pain against a pillow. Aladdin's profile was tense and guarded as he stood at a distance from the bed, speaking softly to the suffering girl. Jasmine tore her gaze from the canopy and watched the stretch of emptiness between her husband and the girl, a space he was maintaining for a purpose. For her?
His eyes cut toward the door, meeting hers in an expressionless exchange. There were no songs or smiles, only an offer of truth, clear and plain. This was the mother of his child, the girl he had chosen after her.
The moment broke between them as he turned his face back toward the unseen figure, kneeling slowly by the bed. One hand reached forward, brushing strands of hair from an invisible face, and his lips offered a prayer. A blessing for her health.
Time passed in silence, or perhaps it stood as still as the three figures in the room. It began to flow again when Aladdin finally rose, reestablishing the wall of distance, and left the girl's side.
Jasmine could hear the medic retreat further back into the hall as Aladdin drew near, coming to stand before her in the curtained doorway. He undid the hook of the curtain on the doorframe, and the layers cascaded around them, enclosing them both in a darkened space.
"You don't have to do this." His voice was oppressively soft, muted by the walls of fabric. "Go back, Jasmine."
Her hands trembled at her sides. "No."
"You shouldn't feel--"
"Do you trust me?" Though she whispered the words, they were still full of avarice, sucking the air from the space around them.
He did not meet her eyes, taking her hand instead. Her fingers trembled against his palm.
"If you have to go in, I'll wait for you here."
He stepped aside, and began to wait. Regaining her breath, she moved past him.