The last week had been a revelation to Jasmine. The people of Agrabah were fascinating and so different from anything she'd ever imagined. After visiting Hasim the baker, they'd gone the next day to Raj the candle-maker's shop and on the day after that to Abdul the rug weaver and seller's shop, then they'd gone to the market place both in the morning and evening.

She would never have guessed that an entirely different group of merchants showed up as the evening's cool set in. The morning shops mostly sold food. The evening ones sold everything imaginable. She was almost overwhelmed by all the different dialects she heard. There wasn't just one language, but at least four.

When she told Razoul this observation, he chuckled. "Actually, Mary, there are many more than that. Wait until one of the merchant caravans comes here and then you'll understand why Babel got its name."

He was interrupted by a young boy of about ten who got his attention by the expedient of grabbing his leg and hanging on like a leech. "Got you, Razoul!" The boy shouted.

"You certainly do, Jacob. Now what are you going to do with me now that you've caught me?"

"You owe me a fruit of my choice. That's what you said I'd get if I could surprise you." The boy told him as if daring him to refuse.

"And you did a good job of it. I consider myself sufficiently ambushed." He reached in his pocket and retrieved two small coins. He held up the coins. "Now let go and find your mother for me."

Jacob dropped off and pointed. "She's over there at her shop table. You should know that."

Razoul smiled and waved at the black-haired woman without a veil who grinned and waved back. He held up the coins and two fingers and then pointed at the boy. She laughed and called out. "So he finally got you, did he?"

"That he did. The coins are for a fruit for him and his sister, Rachel. He won them fair and square." He handed the coins to Jacob who grinned and then ran back to his mother to show her his prize.

Jasmine smiled. "Who is the young lady?"

"Her name is Sarah. She and her husband Isaac are from a country far to the south of here. Isaac works in the quarries and Sarah runs her small shop to make ends meet. Come, I'll introduce you."

"Sarah." He said. "This is my cousin Mary from Cairo. She's visiting for a few days and I'm showing her the sights."

Sarah laughed. "And you brought her here to Sarah's stall, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, did you?" She gestured at her table with its array of ornamental and very utilitarian daggers, jewelry, dishes, cups, and drinking glasses. There were other items that Jasmine could not even begin to guess at their purposes. "Feel free to look, Mary. If anything catches your eye let me know."

"Come on, Razoul. You said if I caught you out we'd play catch." Jacob held out a ratty ball that had seen better days.

Razoul smiled. "You have a mind like a scribe, Jacob. You forget nothing." He caught the ball in one of his big hands and stepped down the street to get room while the boy sprinted ahead.

"Razoul never ceases to amaze me." Sarah told her. "He treats all the children with respect and even got my boy Jacob out of his shell which he had retreated into after we had to leave Jordan." She notice that Jasmine had picked up one of the daggers. She chuckled. "I see something has caught your eye."

Jasmine held up the dagger in a scabbard decorated with a dragon coiling about the case. "Where does this come from? I've never seen its like before."

"Pull the dagger out. Look at the surface of the blade."

Jasmine did as she was told and a silvery blue blade was revealed with strange characters like boxes with crosses or intersecting lines running down its length. The blade felt cool and oily like it could slip into anything. Jasmine touched the point and jerked back. "That's sharper than any blade I've ever seen."

Sara nodded. "And it'll never lose its edge. You could pound it against a stone for hours and never dull it. It comes from Cathay and is said to have been crafted by a wizard from a red hot star that fell from the heavens." She shrugged. "At least that's what I've been told. It's a bargain at 300 drachmas."

Jasmine sighed, put the dagger back in its sheath and returned it regretfully. "I will have to talk to my father." That would never happen as she knew what Jafar would say and her father would repeat like a parrot.

Sarah nodded and placed the dagger back on the table. "Most people will say that, but it's still worth it." She looked over at her guest. "Forgive me for being forward, Mary, but are you and Razoul planning on getting engaged?"

Jasmine's eyes got wide. "No. Why would you ask that?"

Mary shrugged as she wiped dirt off her daughter Rachel's cheeks. "It is not uncommon for a niece to marry an older uncle in these times. It keeps things in the family so to speak."

"No, no." Jasmine protested. "He's just showing me around. I'll have to go home soon."

Sarah smiled at her. "That's why I didn't see some old dowager aunt chaperoning the two of you." She paused to watch her son dive and catch a ball deliberately thrown in the dirt. He came up laughing and returned the trick, causing his partner to have to dive too and get dirty.

Sara frowned. "However, there's something going on between you two that doesn't fit." She shrugged. "Whatever it is, if you ever want to talk about it you can find me here each day." She grinned. "And maybe you'll be back for the dagger, too."

Razoul came up herding Jacob before him. "Sarah, your young rascal ran me ragged. Here, young man, keep the ball until the next time." Jacob caught the ball and lifted a finger in salute.

Razoul turned and gauged the setting sun. "I think we need to head back." He turned back to Sarah. "May Allah bless you and yours, Sarah."

She smiled. "May you always know the peace of God." She turned away to talk to another customer.

As they walked along the street he told Jasmine. "We won't go out again until two days from now and this time it'll be after dark which will require a little more finesse to get outside. I have something to show you that will I think amaze you but it's only shown by appointment and we can only see it at night."

She raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

He smiled and kept moving. "Now that would ruin the surprise wouldn't it?" He wouldn't rise to her questions about the coming night time excursion except to smile and shake his head.

That night as she sat in her bath she considered all that she'd seen. At one time she had imagined that she could only find wonders by being magically transported all over the world on some mythical flying carpet and had longed to escape boring and dull old Agrabah. Now she found wonders everywhere right here in Agrabah. Her life had been even more sheltered than she'd ever imagined. And one of those wonders was the intriguing man who was showing them to her.

Before she'd just ignored him or took his presence as what was expected of him as her guard and jailer. If anything she realized that she had thought of him as muscles, a thug with no brain. She remembered her former maids giggling and making remarks about his build and what it could mean to them if they got his attention. At the time she'd just yawned.

But now she had to admit that his presence was affecting her because he'd been revealed as not just some mindless heavy with a sword for her to command at her every whim but as a good man who despite being a city guard had made a lot of friends of those he protected. Now by looking at him as a real person she also was becoming aware of him as a man. She suddenly realized that she now agreed with her former maids.

She shook her head. She had to get off that line of thought. She was a princess and unlike her maids nothing could happen if she got his attention.

She got out of her bath, let the water out, and then dried herself, thankful to Jafar that at least he'd given the castle hot and cold running water with his magic; even if he was an evil maniac he still had his uses.

She put a robe on and went and sat on a small reclining couch on her balcony that allowed her to look out over Agrabah as it settled in for the night. As she sat there beneath an awning held up by two fake spears with a table besides her supporting a book and a full drinking glass, she slowly brushed out the snarls in her hair with a brush and then went through it with a comb, but the stubborn tangles still wouldn't come out.

She wished she still had at least one maid left as it was very difficult to do this alone. She'd seen that the woman Sarah also had long black hair and wondered if Sarah combed her own hair or did she have help from her husband? She really wished she had help.

The comb caught and she gave it a hard yank in frustration and pain erupted. She cursed in anger as she jerked her arm and knocked the glass and her book on the floor where the glass shattered. She said another appropriate word as she looked at the mess. It was one that soldiers used all the time.

Unfortunately she was loud enough that Razoul heard her all the way at the front entrance. "Is there a problem, Princess?" He asked as he entered the central living area.

"It's just my hair." She told him as she threw the comb down on the table. "I can't do anything with it. It's just a snarled up mess. You wouldn't know a good hair dresser would you?" Fat chance of that. He was a soldier after all.

There was a pause and then she heard him say. "I used to do my young sister's hair and I know how badly snarled long hair like yours can get. Salim and I were just coordinating our schedules and I can leave him on guard and try and do your hair if you want."

The image of this big man and his large hands trying to comb her hair almost made her laugh but she realized she wasn't being fair to him and her hair really needed help badly. At the very least if he cut her hair off with his sword it wouldn't be such a mess. At this point she was willing to try anything.

"You're welcome to try, Razoul. I'm out on the balcony and I have a robe on." She tightened the sash just in case.

She heard him pause out in the hallway. "Do I have your permission, Princess, to enter your room and get some of the combs, brushes, and hair picks off your dresser?"

"You do." She called back. "And you'll notice that I had the old mirror removed. I hope you won't find any suitors in there now."

She heard him chuckle. "If I do, I hope they can fly like Abdul did."

She smiled remembering the look of terror on that pompous idiot's face and then asked a question she thought she knew the answer to. "You knew he was going to land in a fountain with water in it, didn't you?"

"Yes, Princess. I wasn't the spear-toss champion in the army for nothing. I usually hit what I aim at and I'm tall enough to be able to see the grounds over the balcony railing." As he finished he came out on the balcony carrying several implements. He laid them down on a table beside her and selected one of the picks as he stepped behind her. "Let's see what we have here." And he began to work on her tangles.

She prepared to flinch as he began to work on her snarls and tangles and then realized there was no pain, not even a heavy tug. Whatever he was doing back there was causing her no pain or discomfort at all. After a while he set the pick down and she felt a slight tug as he began to move a brush through her hair.

"If I hurt you, then you have permission to bite me as that's what I told my sister to do."

"And did she?" For a big man he had the gentlest fingers of anyone she'd ever experienced in combing out her hair.

He chuckled. "Oh, more than once when I first started doing her hair."

"And why were you combing out your sister's hair instead of your mother doing it?"

There was a long silence and the brush paused for an equal amount of time before he started brushing again. "Our mother had passed away and my father certainly wasn't going to do it."

"So he ordered you to do it?"

"No. My father was well on his way to becoming a drunk against all the Prophet's prohibitions on drink and he didn't care. I did it because it needed to be done as she was being reduced to tears of frustration. My sister who was eight had no qualms about biting if I wasn't gentle enough." He held his left hand out for her to inspect. She could see a crescent-shaped scar in the heel. "You have my permission to do the same if I hurt you." He withdrew the hand and the gentle stroking of her hair continued.

"I'll never bite you." She declared already regretting her earlier thoughts about his ham-handedness.

There was a chuckle in answer. "No, you're not that type of lady. You're one of those rare persons, a princess who deserves the name and all it stands for."

Now he'd made her really sorry for wanting to laugh at him. He certainly was different from what his rough exterior and tough-guy mannerisms as her guard showed the world. She remembered what she'd originally called him when he'd been made her guard and realized that she'd made a horrible mistake in how she'd originally judged him.

"Razoul?"

"Yes, Princess."

"I'm sorry, I ever called you a thug."

"It's alright, Princess. I am a thug. I am a trained soldier and a policeman. We're always called thugs."

She swung around and didn't care if it pulled her hair. "Never call yourself a thug again. You're my friend as well as my guard. You'll never be a thug to me." And as she said it she realized it was true. He'd become her best friend.

He shrugged but she could see his lip quivered for a second. "Let's finish your hair as I'm sure Salim will be getting impatient." The gentle stroking continued.

When he was done she stood and for the first time in a long time felt her hair flowing like it should, soft and free. She turned and held her hands out. "Please, let me see your hands." When he hesitated she reassured him. "I just want to see such marvelous hands close up. We're not holding hands." Something deep inside her whispered 'liar.'

He reluctantly held his hands out and she touched the fingers and palms with her own fingers. "They're soft." She looked up at him. "I thought they'd be calloused."

"And if I was a wood cutter or a stone mason who did the same thing every day with his hands, then they would be. But since I practice every day with the sword, the spear, daggers, and the bow I never wear out the same spot of skin. Besides, a supple hand can assert better control than a stiff and calloused one and that enables me to serve you better."

She continued to stare at his hands, marveling at how soft they were. Finally, his cough reminded her of who she was and she dropped his hands. "Thank you, Razoul. You may comb my hair anytime."

He bowed. "I'm glad my humble efforts pleased you, Princess." He straightened and picked up the hair implements from the table. "With your permission I'll return these and then go and relieve poor Salim."

For some reason she found herself watching him and the way his body flowed as he walked. Even his footsteps were delicate but sure just like he was walking on the balls of his feet, ready to react to anything. She watched until he was gone.

After he left she stood and admired the way her hair flowed and gleamed in the lamplight. He was turning out to be a man of many hidden talents. She stood there thinking about him and felt something stirring inside her. She shook her head. No. Don't be like your former maids and start speculating on things that can never be. At the moment she had her freedom and his friendship and that would have to be sufficient.

She turned and went back inside, not noticing the brightening of the stars and their constellations as the moon vanished into the darkening eastern sky. She did not even notice the red star in the western sky which unlike the others did not twinkle and which was setting for the last time as it moved across the heavens racing for the sun.