A whole month had passed since the vizier's death. The king had been in mourning and therefore hadn't got married in that time. Immediately after her father's death, Shirazad had been brought into the palace, and kept in isolation from the outside world until this day when she got married to Shahryar. She hadn't been given any information and she was supposed to know nothing; but the vizier's spies had managed to tell her about the events around her father's death.
She'd hardly communicated with anyone this month. She hadn't had the chance to speak with the king during the wedding feast, which was everything you would imagine a royal wedding not to be. It was so small, less noteworthy even than the alcoholic night when Shahryar had given the fatal promise to marry Shirazad. The bride had appeared just for a short ceremony and had been taken away. She'd remained all silent.
Now the king wondered how much she knew. It was evening. Shahryar was walking down the corridor in order to meet the vizier's daughter. He stood in front of the door of his own chamber, but it didn't feel like his own. He didn't need to explain anything to Shirazad, but still the mere thought of meeting her sent chills down his spine.
Maybe some people were just not meant to be happy or to have a happy family... When Shirazad had been a child, she'd thought she'd marry for love and had the family she'd never had since her mother had died young... but, alas, it was not meant to be.
He opened the door. Finally, the moment came when Shirazad and Shahryar remained alone in his chamber. She was wearing a veil, sitting on the bed, and he closed the door. He had drunk but just a little. He appeared to be completely sober, but felt uncomfortable as if he even felt... twinges of guilt. Shirazad hoped he did feel guilty, though whether a guilty person would sentence the daughter of his close follower to death was another question.
He never looked her in the eyes, though her face was hidden behind the veil, which was supposed to make things easier for him in this situation. Long silence set in. His reactions seemed to have become slower, and she thought that he pretended to be more drunk than he actually was. He didn't take her veil off.
"The king," her father used to say, "he had his good and bad qualities before. But now, it seems that his mind is shrouded in fog, as if only his bad qualities have remained. Usually, a person is supposed to have both good and bad sides. But he really makes me doubt that." ...Other times, her father just warned her not to ask him any questions about his day or his work because he felt so guilty. "I am the one who is supposed to advise the king. It seems that I haven't done my job well if after my advice, the king has come to this... decision."
"Father, you know that you are not guilty," Shirazad then tried to reassure him."You cannot advise a person who doesn't want to listen to you. If he refuses to be wise, you can't change that."
Memories came flooding back to Shirazad. She felt so many emotions.
Instead of wondering at the king's behavior, she said something, which sounded like a relief in the complete silence,
"Your Majesty, could I ask for one last wish?"
He stared at her in a peculiar manner and replied shortly,
"Last wish?... ...What wish?"
She was too anxious to take care and decorate her speech with unnecessary words,
"I would like to see my younger sister, Dunyazad, one last time. It's been a month and we never managed to say goodbye."
It seemed the idea that Shahryar wouldn't have to be alone with her brightened his mood and he quickly sent for Dunyazad, despite the late hour.
When she arrived maybe Shahryar felt more awkward than before for Dunyazad and Shirazad began hugging each other, and he sat aside and felt lonelier. Even within a hair's breadth of death, some people looked happy.
Dunyazad bowed to the king,
"Your Majesty," she said, "my sister has the gift of telling gripping tales that reveal magnificent images so beautiful it's unbelievable they exist only in the mind, yet so real they seem to be the connection between our minds and reality."
Since Shahryar still wasn't certain about what he would do if Dunyazad left – and he was surprised and a little bit intrigued by Shirazad's unexpected last wish, – he replied,
"We are listening then." The king supposed that the fairy tale would take around an hour, enough time for him to think things over and decide what to do with her.
Shirazad began speaking. But the fairy tale went on, and on, and on... And contrary to his expectations to be bored, it was indeed quite interesting, with several plot twists. Listening to fairy tales truly brought a certain peace of mind because he wasn't thinking about anything else. So, he didn't notice when the day broke. The night had passed. As the first sun rays brightened the room through the wide windows, Shirazad slowed down the narration and suddenly stopped speaking, although the story hadn't quite ended. Was she tired? Shahryar had fallen into a calm, almost sleepy state but the silence surprised him.
"What is the problem, daughter of Azdavan, did you lose your voice?" he exclaimed mockingly but in a moment felt guilty about mentioning the vizier's name.
"No," she shook her head. Her face could be clearly seen, as she had removed her veil on her own in order to calmly tell the tale, "I think it wouldn't be right to continue. Night brings special magic. One is surrounded by darkness. Thus one could imagine a different world. You can go wherever you want in your imagination. But during the day, fairy tales do not sound real."
His contemptuous look intensified as she spoke until it slowly but surely transformed into anger.
"I am afraid I would be able to continue only tomorrow night," she said quite calmly. But slight anxiety could be felt in Shirazad's voice. She realized that this sentence would decide her fate.
Shahryar narrowed his eyes. He abruptly stood up from the arm-chair where he was sitting. He looked angry, almost as if he was going to hit her. He immediately understood that this was a way for the girl to save her life, of course. And he was furious!
Did she really think she could outsmart him?! That he would be seduced by some ridiculous fairy tales?! But before displaying a reaction, he contemplated. He contained his anger and thought that he also had to appreciate her original approach. His mouth twitched in a slight resemblance of a cruel smile, but he was not usually very expressive so it quickly disappeared. He would let her live then.
He went to the door and he said on leaving, "Very well," he hesitated whether to call her by name or refer to her as the daughter of Azdavan, "...Shirazad. Then you will finish the tale tomorrow."
Let's see how long she would be able to invent fairy tales since she was so "crafty." Sooner or later, she would get tired, and then he would kill her. He left. No shouting. Nothing dangerous. Just "Very well... you will continue tomorrow." Dunyazad, who was still in the room, looked at her sister as if she expected a comment, but Shirazad remained quiet.
King Shahryar wondered. How had she been able to pull this plan? She had been isolated ever since her father's demise... It seemed she had been warned about the events of that alcoholic night and Shahryar's intention to marry her very much in advance so she had had time, before arriving at the palace, to come up with this plan together with her sister? This fairy-tale nonsense had to be premeditated.