The Empire palace interiors were gold, and everything inside connected to the ceilings diametrically like the wonderfully diverse world of spider silk. The palace was a Web of Gold.
As Al wandered the intrigues of the place, he saw a live lion leadingly going ahead of him. He saw a man's intellectuals perfectly controlling the cat, it needed to take Al somewhere, it looked followable.
The lion reached its rearer, a woman, whose depth dark black hair was the first noticeable thing, before Al noticed the width of her skirt. So broadened it filled the view.
"Such diligent music make. " The tempting petite complimented.
"Oh! " Al expressed, forgetting he didn't just come seeking a woman, he came to showcase himself to her; Yasmin the dame of poetry. And she was as perfect as her picture.
He was at the brink of the palace rear end and she was standing under a gazebo across a soap lake. The soap lake was a meromictic cosmetic water for royal bathing. It had naturally occurring foam that gave the water a soapy appearance, no doubt its mineral richness had slick soapy feel. Al swam to the petite and she made sure her feline was lying down.
"You're not afraid. "
"Of your circus lion? No."
"You have talent, for a newfound nobody. " The petite hid a smile behind shortened classy nails, for she had beyond taken sight of Al's pretty appearance.
"Are you Yasmin? "
His voice made the little dame's bones cold. He was nearing her, so she stumbled westward on the gazebo but pretended her knees hadn't gotten weak by resting to a column.
"I beg your pardon. " She sounded disturbed.
"Forgive me, my lady, If i've disrespected you by namecalling."
"How do you know my twin sister?"
"I came here with hopes to find her."
"She certainly have never mentioned...you"
"Do not tell me your names rhyme." His round eyelids lidded his blue spell casting eyes. Having long pondered the imparts of the letters Yasmin wrote to him. Al composedly had a new plan, showing to what extent the sentiment of 'Yasmin's twin's' pictures confided with those of a beauty goddess. "Is this you?" He produced this twin's identical painting, her jaw dropped, he didn't need to hear any answer from her. "Please tell me your name..."
"Jasmine..."
So their names did rhyme, Al swallowed hard.
" I am Al Medinah, tell me, does the real Yasmin look anything like you or are you fraternally disputatious."
""The Real Yasmin"?" She gasped, "Medinah... this is you? I knew of your letters, i read most of them without Yasmin's consent." She sized him up and down. Nothing likely to discriminate, she wished there was.
"You're very honest with me."
"Of course, your far sent letters mean gold to my twin for the evidence that she can't interact with men or even get seen by them. Distance between you and her brought out the best in Yasmin, you should have known to keep it that way."
"Could she be cursed?"
"No, but most likely it feels that way. Her hair is white, the blankest locks you will ever see, if you even get the chance."
"Where is she? I'd like to see her... meet her immediately." His unaffected state vexed Jasmine, to know the annoying matter of hair colours played no part in discouraging him.
She chinned up and said, "I thought you would be disapproval, all men are..." She strutted her body giving herself the outlines of a peacock. "Go, wait in the menagerie, where i will bring Yasmin." To her dismay, Al was thankful she would do it for him.
She seized her painting from him and slowly went hither and yon, swaying her hips. Her lion saw it convenient that it be the one to lead Al again, to the menagerie.