As she stepped inside, she expected servants to come rushing forward to greet her and offer refreshments, yet there was no sound but the echo of her and her father's footsteps on the tiles. They were alone in this palace. A palace that easily outshone her father's.
The tiled floors were so perfectly smooth, they seemed to be made of a single piece of stone. Every room had a different ceiling mosaic, so lifelike it seemed she was staring up at the real sky and not a picture of it. And the bathhouse...tears sprang to her eyes to see her dreams made real, in a way no man could have known she wanted, for she hadn't even told her father how much she wanted this. The bathhouse was as opulent as the rest of the palace, but it was also familiar – if the bathhouse she'd visited that very morning were made anew, then surely it would look like this. A copy of the place on the day it opened, all those centuries ago...but no one could know such things!
Shaking her head at the impossibility of what her eyes were telling her, Maram no longer knew what to think.
"Come and look at the garden," her father called.
Only now did Maram realise she stood alone in the bathhouse – her father had ventured into the courtyard without her.
A courtyard or a garden? Maram wasn't certain until she saw the light glint off what she'd taken for grass. No, the ground was covered in grass-coloured tiles, while jewelled shrubs and trees dotted the courtyard like the harem gardens at home. A jewelled replica of the harem gardens...a place no prince had ever visited, for her brothers had been given their own garden for their boisterous play. The only men who had ever visited them were sultans, like her father, or traitors like her mother's lover, Amani. There was magic at work here. Magic meant to delight her, and her alone.
Maram's mouth was unbearably dry. More than ever, she wished for a servant to offer her refreshment, but no one granted her wish.
"Father, whoever this man is...whoever built this...I must meet him," she said. Because if he was even the slightest bit better than Hasan, she would scream her YES to his proposals before he could repeat them to her.
A shape stepped out of the shadows. A shape wearing a crown in the folds of his turban. The prince threw himself face down on the green tiles. "I am honoured by the presence of such a beautiful princess and her father in my humble home."
Maram glanced around, only to find her father nowhere in sight. Had he gone, leaving her alone with this man?
It seemed he had.
Maram took a deep breath. "Rise, Prince of Tasnim, for I am the one who is honoured. Why would a man I barely know offer me such a magnificent gift?"
"Because Hasan does not deserve you." The prince rose stiffly to his feet, only to lose his turban partway up. It clanged to the tiles, crown first, and rolled away.
She couldn't hide her smile. "And you do?"
"No," he said, raising his head to meet her eyes. "But I could think of no other way to free you of both slavery and your betrothal to him."
Maram's breath caught in her throat and she couldn't seem to draw another one. This couldn't be. It couldn't. Yet...
"Aladdin?" she gasped.
TWENTY-FOUR
Aladdin stood invisible by Kaveh's side, watching the Sultan and Princess Maram marvel over the palace the two djinn had built. Now, Aladdin truly believed she was as precious to her father as he'd said. The Sultan spent more time watching his daughter's reactions than looking at the place. She meant more to him than whatever diplomatic assistance she provided to the court.
For a moment, he wished he'd told the Sultan about Hasan instead of creating such an elaborate scheme. He would never give the daughter he loved to that man if he truly knew what Hasan would do to her.
"What? Did you spot a mistake in the tiles?" Kaveh demanded. "Why do you look so miserable?"
"I should have asked the Sultan to call off the engagement, not offered a new one. She will see through this for sure." He waved at his silk clothes. They felt so slippery against his skin he worried they would slip right off and leave him naked. Not that it mattered when he was unseen, but...
"Don't be daft," Kaveh snapped. "Once the Sultan's given his word to the Vizier, he can't break the engagement, unless a better offer comes along. You made him the only offer he could accept. And once he sees the audience chamber, he will."
"But the princess will hate me for trying to deceive her. I'd hate me for making a bargain with her father without knowing I had her consent first. If there was a way I could speak to her before her father..."
Kaveh nodded. "Here she comes. I'll take him up to see the audience chamber, and you take a moment with your princess." He strode across the courtyard and materialised on the steps to the upper levels. He bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, my master bade me to greet you and show you anything you wish to see. I would recommend the audience chamber..."
The Sultan cut him off. "I had begun to think the palace was empty. Let us see this chamber." He headed up with Kaveh.
"Father, whoever this man is...whoever built this...I must meet him," Maram said, stepping into the sun. She blinked, blinded.
Aladdin could not have asked for a better opportunity than this. He threw himself at Maram's feet.
At her command, he rose, taking his time to meet her eyes and the complete lack of recognition he expected to see there. A princess would not remember a poor boy she'd met in the bathhouse.
"Aladdin?" His name was music on her lips.
He wanted to sink to his knees again, and give thanks to whatever deity had helped him this time. But he forced himself to stay on his feet, for she had ordered it.
"How did you manage to build such a place? So lavish, so perfect, so fast?" she asked. "When I last saw you, you hadn't eaten for days, yet now..." She ran a hand down his tunic.
So that's why royalty wore silk. The feel of her fingers through it was pure bliss. Aladdin wanted to moan in pleasure, but he knew he only had a moment before her father returned. "I cannot tell you, for you would not believe me. I scarcely believe it myself. What I can tell you is that I ventured out into the desert and found a priceless treasure. A treasure that made all this possible, though it nearly killed me to return here. It's for you, Princess. All of it. If there is anything you wish changed, name it, and it shall be done. You don't even need to accept me – the palace is my gift to you. All I ask in return is that you don't marry that brute, Hasan."
Maram's eyes hardened. "Why would I not want the man who risked his life for me, to give me this, to save me from that brutish fool? I've been to the bathhouse every day, sent men out looking for you...by all that's holy..." She tore the veil from her head and threw it on the tiles. Maram shook her hair off her face – a night-dark river Aladdin longed to stroke – then wrapped her arms around Aladdin and kissed him.
She tasted sweeter than before, more intoxicating than the finest wines in Tasnim, and more arousing than any of the erotic murals in the prince's harem. The softness of her body in his arms made him wonder if he truly had died and gone to paradise after all.