“Do you swim, Yashaa?” she called.
Our ancestors had come from the desert, where even a bath was a great luxury. There was more water here, in Kharuf and in Qamih—there was even an ocean if you went far enough to the west—but I had not done a lot of swimming, even though I knew how.
“Only to bathe,” I replied. “And I did that this morning.”
“You know, I think I’ve figured out what’s wrong with you, Yashaa,” she said. It was that voice again, the voice that teased in such a way that I knew she was very serious. I sighed. Arwa was never this much trouble.
“And what is that, princess?” I asked. I sat down on the bank so she would know that there was no chance of convincing me to get in the water. I took out my knife and began to sharpen it on a whetstone.
“You never have any fun,” she said. She held up both hands in defense. “And before you pout at me, let me remind you that while I know your life has been very hard, I’ve spent the better part of seven years locked in a room with barely a window, much less a functioning door, and I had absolutely nothing to do with my time.”
“I like the staff dances,” I told her. “They are useful and enjoyable. Does that pass royal muster?”
“Barely,” she allowed. “In the future I will, as your liege-lord, endeavor to find activities that will suit your incredibly narrow definition of the term.”
“You have my gratitude, princess,” I said. In this imaginary court of hers, I would be happy to serve in whatever position she allowed, as long as the others had their places too, and I could be of use. “What besides swimming do you do for fun?”
“Needle you, of course,” she said. She kicked water at me and didn’t seem to mind at all that it fell well short of its target. “You are delightful.”
I made a mockery of a bow to her, as well as I could from my seated position, and she laughed again.
“I also liked talking with Arwa,” she said. “Saoud and Tariq are as formal as you, but Arwa was good at making me feel comfortable.”
“We all want you to be comfortable, princess,” I said.
“I know that,” she said. “And I am glad. But Arwa talked to me like I was just a person. When the rest of you talk, it is impossible for me to forget that I am a princess, and cursed.”
“I can never forget that,” I told her. “Please do not ask me to try.”
“I won’t,” she said. “Not now that I know you better. Not even to needle you.”
“I appreciate it,” I said. “Your lips are turning purple, and we’re about to lose the sun. You should come out.”
“All right,” she said. “Turn around.”
I did of course, and stared at the rock wall of the valley while she changed. I could hear the sound that her soaked underdress made when it hit the grass, and the soft whisper of the overdress as she pulled it back on.
“You can look, Yashaa,” she said, and I turned.
She hadn’t put her veil back on yet, and her hair dripped trails across her forehead faster than she could wipe them away. She was looking at the knife, and all of the ease that she had carried in the pool dripped off her, like the water.
“Yashaa,” she said, “would you cut my hair?”
I stared at her. There was barely any hair to cut. Even with my knife at its sharpest, I could not possibly do a good job of it. Worse, I might cut her.
“I can’t,” I told her when I could speak.
“Please, Yashaa,” she said. I heard the effort it took for her not to make the words a plea, and I hated myself for having denied her.
“Why?” I said. “I mean, why must it be cut? It’s still short, isn’t it? And if you keep your veil on, no one will recognize you by it.”
“It’s not the veil, Yashaa,” she said. “It’s the hair. If it gets long enough for me to braid, I will braid it. I do want to make things, but I want to do it on purpose. I want to be able to control it.”
And then I understood. Even her own body betrayed her to the foul demon’s curse.
“Come and sit, then,” I said, and she sat down in front of me.
I put the whetstone aside, and tested the edge of my knife against my finger. It was as sharp as I could get it, and it was the best blade I carried. If Saoud were here, his throwing knives might have done a better job; but he was not. I sucked the blood from my thumb while she settled herself, and then I put a hand on her shoulder to steady her.
“You must tell me if you’re going to move,” I said. “This knife is a far cry from the razor they must have had at the castle.”
“I will,” she said, and stilled.