The stars shone brightly and the moon was high in the sky when Amira left the Great Tent later that night. A wind blew across the desert, stirring up particles of sand, which lashed against Amira's bare legs. She shivered from the cold and pulled her cloak tighter around her body.
Quickly she made her way across the sands and towards the palace, watching her feet so she would not step upon any spiders or snakes that might be hunting in the night. A great wall rose up in front of her, with an elaborately carved door in the center. A guard was standing outside the gate and Amira nodded to him silently. He smiled slightly and drew open the gate and winked at her. Quickly Amira made her way through the gardens to the east balcony. A rope ladder was let down from the edge and as she climbed up Amira made a mental note to thank Damis tomorrow morning.
She stepped lightly down on the marble flooring, her bare feet making a soft padding noise as she made her way towards the curtained doorway. A she pulled back the curtain a shiver ran up her spine. She whirled around quickly, unsheathing the dagger she carried with her. The sky was lit with stars and a cool breeze blew from the east. There was no one. The feeling she was being watched diminished and she entered her bedroom.
She let herself fall upon the purple and red cushions which lined one side of her wall. Her room smelled of vanilla and jasmine and smiling she buried her face in the cushions, taking in the feel of just being home. As much as she loved dancing, there was nothing like coming home after a tiring day.
Still smiling she rolled over and stroked the orange cat that had curled up besides her and fell asleep listening to the gentle rumbling of the cat's purring.
Sunlight hit her face and Amira woke suddenly, shielding her eyes from the blinding light. A maid had pulled back the curtain and the morning sun shone bright into her room. Yawning, Amira stretched luxuriously, feeling like a cat.
She rose and padded over to her wooden chest, where her clothes were stored. Quickly she dressed, not in traveler's clothes, but clothes fit for a princess. She pulled on a turquoise skirt with purple embroidery and a loose fitting tunic shirt that matched the embroidery on the skirt. A silk veil draped over her auburn hair completed the look.
It was Sunday morning, and every Sunday she was required to eat breakfast with her father, King Bahram. When she arrived in the airy Great Hall her father was already seated, waiting for her.
She nodded in acknowledgement and he motioned for her to sit besides him upon the deep blue cushion. He clapped his hands and a servant brought a bowl of fruit over to them and placed it down gently on the marble table, making a slight clicking that echoed throughout the hall.
"Good morning Amira." King Bahram welcomed his daughter warmly, his voice deep and thundering.
"Good morning father." Amira replied. She smiled at her father, who smiled back, smile lines creasing his already wrinkled brow.
"Amira…" Bahram spoke again, his voice sterner this time. Amira looked up somewhat sheepishly, knowing what was coming.
"I was told you went dancing again yesterday." Bahram stopped and looked at Amira sternly. Amira nodded slightly.
'But father, they need me! I can not just cease coming!" Amira protested. "Besides…" she mumbled. "None of them know I am the princess."
Bahram took his daughter's chin in his hand and lifted her face up. Her eyes were pleading and he sighed. "I know, but you can never be certain."
Since his wife had died, Bahram had grown more protective of his only child. Amira was an independent and smart woman, yet he still feared every time she went out dancing. The only thing that kept him from forcing Amira to stay at home was how much he knew she loved to dance. He had watched hr practice in the garden, her body moving to an inner song and he didn't have the heart to take that from her, after all she had lost.
Then Bahram's thoughts wandered to those of Malakeh, his wife. She had loved to dance, and had introduced Amira to the music and colors of the dancing world. Tall and slender, Amira was a replication of her mother's image. If only Malakeh was alive to see her daughter now. Bahram imagined very she would be very proud of her daughter. One night, several years ago Malakeh had disappeared while returning home from a night of performing. She was never seen again. Thinking of his lost wife, Bahram knew he had to make a decision regarding his daughter.
Amira smiled warmly at her father. "I know you worry." she said softly. She leaned over and hugged him gently and he smiled and responded, gently stroking her auburn hair. She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes shining with love and affection.
Bahram looked away, avoiding the look he knew he would see in his daughter's eyes. "Amira, I think you should stop going." he said finally, his voice stern, yet heavy with a hidden sadness.
Amira pulled away suddenly and glared at her father. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice turning hard and cold. She didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I won't stop!" she stood suddenly, knocking over the fruit bowl. A servant hurried to pick it up, but she put a hand to stop him.
"Amira, I forbid you to continue performing and that is final!" Bahram lost control and shouted, his voice echoing angrily throughout the hall.
Amira stared at her father, a look of hurt and disappointed overwhelming her pretty features. Finally she turned and ran from the room, ignoring her father's desperate calls.
The birds twittered in the trees as Amira wandered through the gardens, her mind repeating her father's words over and over. She was angry and hurt by his decision. Deep within her heart she knew he was doing what he thought was best, but Amira refused to listen to that part of her. The sun was high in the sky, and still muttering angrily Amira sought the shade of one of the great fig trees, the broad green leaves perfect for blocking out the hot desert sun.
She lay down on the grass, looking up through the green leaves to the sparkling blue sky. The wind rustled the leaves, creating a steady, gently beat. Music began to play within her mind and before she realized what she was doing, she was up and moving gently to the inner song, a song only she could hear. Today the dance was not a joyous one, nor a peaceful content one. Today the dance was full of anger, stomping feet and sharp movements.
Footsteps upon the gravel path caused her to stop suddenly. A tall, dark haired boy came into view, solemnly watching her dance.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked quietly. Amira looked at him for a moment before running over and wrapping her arms around him. The tears she had been holding back threatened to overflow and she fought to keep them from running down her cheeks.
"Oh, Damis! I'm not allowed to dance…" she murmured. Damis pulled away and looked her in the eye, his expression understanding and gentle. Amira pulled away and sat on a rock. Damis followed her and sat besides her. A silence fell over them as Amira wallowed in her grief and Damis thought of what to say.
He gazed at her, his brown eyes full of understanding and love. He wished there was something he could say, but he was at loss for words.
Suddenly Amira looked up, a new fire in her eye. She turned to Damis. "Let's go to the market." Damis looked at her in surprise as she grabbed his hand and led him out of the garden.