Only the king and the queen traveled in the royal carriage. Shahryar had told her nothing, not even where they were going. And, guessing that he wanted her to ask him, she did not ask a single question. She did not care anyway. She stared out of the window most of the time. She hadn't been out of the palace for a long time, so she enjoyed the journey.
"Tell me, Shirazad," the king started speaking first, "is your realm free?" And he smiled condescendingly.
She raised her eyebrows. Perhaps he thought she couldn't understand what he was talking about, but she could see his reference to that "nickname" Scheherazade very well.
"The realm of fairy-tales is always free," she said. He snorted out.
"I will have to inform you that Lord Lhasa is going to get married to Mehrnaz. Sad news." His tone was different. The king was probably suspecting that Shirazad must have had some history with Lhasa... After all, hadn't they almost got married at one point? So maybe she had had feelings for him earlier? But she had long ago forgotten all about Lhasa.
"May be sad news for him," she replied. This conversation was probably longer than all conversations Shahryar had ever initiated with her in sober state put together. She smiled, "Just like it was not easy for Saldin al Nadir to get married..." She started thinking about a fairy-tale she could possibly tell him in the future. Anyway, he didn't want to listen to a story now.
She could see the faces of curious onlookers as their carriage went down along the streets. Some people would shove each other and point to the carriage. She thought about her father; she missed him and she couldn't believe he was gone; it was as if he was on a journey somewhere and would come back. Then she looked at the people on the streets again. The carriage was not soundproof, so sometimes she could hear shouts. There was one especially disturbing voice, which clearly said "Scheherazade!" Her stomach lurched. She could feel the king was jealous of his wife because she had become so much admired... so quickly; they wanted to see her, to talk about her; "so beautiful," they would say, "Scheherazade," they would call her... some would even praise her late father.
The carriage reached a particularly crowded part of town where finally ordinary people had the chance to come closer. Children would wave at her and smile... They were so many, she felt it would be too rude to ignore them, so she waved back and smiled.
Soon enough, an arm stretched in front of her and pulled the curtain so she couldn't enjoy the view anymore.
"It is a woman's virtue to be modest, not to wave and smile at strangers," Shahryar said.
They remained silent. As they left the town, she felt a bit afraid as it struck her that she was alone with him in the carriage, and nobody could see them now.
She felt very tense as if he stared at her all the time, but she never turned to look at him and check if it was true or she was fantasizing. And this strange conversation earlier.... She was just overthinking, she thought.
It turned out they would need three days to get to the kingdom of Samarkhand, and Shahryar wasn't planning to stop on the way. Shirazad would just sleep in the carriage, leaning her head on the metal frame of the window. It was very uncomfortable. Soon after their arrival, they had to attend the birthday celebration of the King of Samarkhand. All of this the king did not share with her personally, but rather she overheard his conversations with different people, which helped her figure things out.
When they arrived, they had to sleep in the same bed, which was all the more awkward. They just silently lay next to each other. Shirazad was still wondering why she had to come here with him but, completely tired from the journey and the conversations with so many people upon their arrival, she instantly fell asleep.
The next day, Shirazad entered the celebration hall together with her husband, and all people around them suddenly became quiet, possessed by the rare type of daring beauty of Shirazad's that captured the soul and enchanted the mind. Her black curls contrasted her porcelain skin and her eyes sparkled like mountain lakes. The nobility exchanged curious looks, the maids voiced the thoughts that the noblemen were afraid to share.
"That's King Shahryar and Queen Shirazad."
"Queen? Is he married... again?"
"I lost count..."
"It's so unfortunate that she's the wife of that type of person — if she weren't, I might flirt with her for a while."
"You wish."
This evening, Shirazad and Shahryar still had to share the same room. She had retired to their room at first opportunity, so she was there before him. She was planning to fall asleep before he arrived so as to avoid any awkward situation. However, he came back too early, and she was reading. Unlike previous evenings, he wasn't too drunk...
He lay on the bed.
"How sad," he stated. "You hate me yet you're the closest person to me."
She turned to look at him since she was too surprised, "The closest person to you? In this bed maybe." And when she thought it could be misinterpreted, she added, " ...literally."
He didn't sound unhappy though. "Have you ever been in love?"
She gave him a questioning look. "I am too young."
"Too young? I got married when I was fifteen. You are nineteen."
"Are we asking each other unpleasant questions?"
"What else? After the nice party we had this evening, it is only fair to discuss some unpleasant things too." His voice sounded somehow artificially pleasant.
"Maybe we have attended different parties."
He laughed, "Why? Wasn't it pleasant for you? I had a lot of fun."
"I noticed."
"I also notice some things."
Now she smiled, a kind of tired smile that said she deeply doubted he'd noticed anything.
"Do you disagree with me?" he said.
"No, but maybe we notice different things."
"It is only normal that they will behave badly to you, try to make you sick, give you bad food and stain your dress." His tone suddenly sounded serious. "I saw how the third daughter of Count Zestah, Lady Sanaz, stood between you and Lord Zaman." That was a woman who had interrupted Shirazad's conversation with King Zaman by "gently" coming, or rather sliding, in-between them during a pause in the conversation, her back turned to Shirazad, of course. And truly Shirazad felt a little pleased that someone had noticed this, even if it had to be him. Maybe other people had seen it too?
"It's amusing how she's jealous of you even though you're a married woman," he said. "... Or perhaps, it is not so amusing as I used to think before." This was probably a reference to his first wife's betrayal.
She gave him a side glance beneath her eyelashes.
"How would you survive in this world?" he sighed.
This time she smiled, almost laughed. "Your Majesty, I see that you must be in mood for jokes. Perhaps, you've drunk too much wine."
"Ah, don't you appreciate nice jokes? Then... let's change the topic? We could talk about you."
"Nothing interesting has happened in my life recently. We could talk about you."
He laughed. "Well, I got married."
"I know... ..."
She still couldn't understand why she had come with him to Samarkhand. From the looks of it and his behavior and the way he spoke to her, she imagined he must think she was a kind of 'precious princess' who'd lived a protected life away from the world. Even though she had lived in the grand vizier's manor, it wasn't always a sunny life. It wasn't a life of freedom and she had been forced many times to accommodate... She had freedom in some ways and no freedom in other ways.
"You probably wonder why I took you here with me," he said.
"That is none of my business," she replied.
"And as we know, things that are none of your business, you never even think about... ..." he said. "I don't underestimate you. I left the palace for a short while and when I came back, you had become 'Scheherazade, whose realm is noble.' If the realm so easily becomes yours, then I can never afford to leave you alone there again."
To his surprise, Shirazad seemed to understand what he was saying, which meant she'd also heard about the colorful epithet... which meant someone was feeding her information inside the palace.
She half-smiled, And I thought it could be because my father was close to King Zaman and had played a major role in building the relationship between the kingdoms, so perhaps bringing his daughter now that he is gone could have a good political effect. But your relationship with King Zaman is also very good and you are cousins, so it wouldn't make much sense if this was the main reason.
The king asked,
"Just how much do you know Shirazad? Your father never brought you to the palace, but how much did he teach you about court affairs?"
"Do you think that he's revealed to me some of the plans he had against you?" she said.
Shahryar laughed. "You think I killed your father because I suspected him of something?"
"I just want to know why my father died. Why does His Majesty keep it a secret?"
"Why do you always have to jump from being extraordinarily polite to being maddeningly inquisitive?" He sat on the bed and he said, "It seems we will have to share our bed tonight."
She had been lying on the bed with a book in her hands; but now when he was sitting so close and taller than her, she felt threatened so she also sat. He lay on the bed. And she lay down soon enough because she was too tired. He turned in the bed and was suddenly above her.
"Why are you not telling me a tale tonight? Do you assume that you are excused just because we are in another country?"
"I am sorry," she said in an anxious tone. He smiled wickedly and moved away a lock of her hair that was hiding her face.
"Then I forgive you."
"I thought you must be tired from the journey..."
"I want you."
"Your Majesty, you've drunk too much."
"Ever since that day when you came to ask me to stop the marriage between you and Lhasa, I knew it was because you wanted to marry me." He teased her.
"Your Majesty, I think this is inappropriate. We are abroad. What if other people understand that you... never with your wife. Rumors will start."
He smirked, silently let her go and returned to his side of the bed.
"How prudent you are... how considerate of all facets of a situation instead of thinking how to make your man happy."
She was incredibly confused. Was this the same person who had been so silent to her for days and nights on end before? And now he'd become so direct in expressing his thoughts.
"You are a king. If you are not happy, then how about us ordinary people? We must be terribly depressed..."
"Being a king means all kinds of restrictions..."
"If your happiness depends on me, this can't be good... All people have different kinds of restrictions in their lives."
"How about you?" he said. "How are you restricted?"
"In many ways, Your Majesty, but it would only be boring for you to hear about that."
"I happen to have nothing more interesting on my agenda."
This statement, which sounded like an invitation to share her thoughts, might have made her consider the ways in which she was restricted. But instead, she wondered another thing: why the king sounded so much like a normal person? If she wasn't aware of his past actions, she might have believed him friendly. Now, she was confused. He had also behaved himself during King Zaman's feast– he was so far from being angry or rude or showing his temper. A person who supposedly had gone through so much emotional turmoil acted so calmly? She answered,
"I can't go anywhere alone... But I am sure His Majesty has more than enough experience in social interactions to be able to understand... my situation."
"And you, are you good enough at understanding social interactions?"
"...I hope so." What a question, she thought...
How she was going to fall asleep after all that happened today, that was another question. And the answer was – despite everything, easier than him.
Shirazad, he thought. I am married to you because of a drunken night. Remind me to name a sort of grapes after you.