I knew her before. Rather than being possessed by an urgent animal desire, now I simply wished to give whatever comfort she needed and to take whatever she offered.
The room darkened as the autumn day faded, and the cannon boomed, signaling that it was permissible to eat, drink, and love. I held Fereshteh until a servant knocked and announced that one of her clients had arrived. Reluctantly, I released her.
Fereshteh rearranged her clothes and tightened her sash. “It is good to be cared for, even though it is so fleeting.”
Something in her tone made me bristle. “Because I am a eunuch?”
“Because long ago, you disappeared.”
We were both silent, remembering those days. I thought about how confused my feelings had been. Because I had spent so many nights with her, she had meant more to me than someone to be used and discarded, yet I had not permitted myself to think of her as anything more than a prostitute.
“Regardless, I will send a messenger to you if I hear anything useful.”
“I would like to visit you again whether you discover anything or not.”
“All right.”
Her tone was cool, but it reminded me that some people become cruel when they say goodbye because it is the only way they can bear to part.
Fereshteh’s maid showed me out into the courtyard, where a man dressed in a fine brown silk robe appeared to be dallying for a moment by the fountain. He turned around at the sound of our voices.
“You are supposed to show him out through the back door,” he complained to the maid, who blushed in embarrassment.
“I beg your forgiveness,” she said. “I won’t be so careless again.”
I wondered why the man cared so much until I realized that it was none other than the Shah’s companion, Hassan Beyg. We stared at each other, mutually surprised. Hassan Beyg had unusually elegant eyebrows that looked as if they had been shaped to match the contours of his turban. They set off his high cheekbones and smooth brown skin. Although probably in his late twenties, he looked younger because his skin was so flawless. The haughty way he kept his chin lifted suggested he was well aware of his status as a handsome trophy. Introducing myself as a servant of the court, I signaled to Fereshteh’s maid with a nearly invisible flick of my hand that we were to be left alone. She scooted away, a quick learner.
“I serve Pari Khan Khanoom,” I said, and when he showed no reaction, I made my lips jerk downward as if in an involuntary sign of resignation.
He smiled, revealing small, perfect white teeth. “I have heard all about her.”
“No doubt, but I am not sure any man alive knows what it is really like to work for such a woman. What have you heard?” I raised my eyebrows as if to indicate there were plenty of confidences to be had from me that Isma‘il might want to hear.
“That she is a power grabber.”
I laughed. “And what royal woman isn’t! But you wouldn’t believe what I have to go through sometimes. I don’t know what it is like for you, but her petty requests make me wish I worked for a man. The other day I was sent back to the bazaar three times until I delivered the right face powder. What a waste of time!”
“I prefer to serve men,” he replied.
“I understand.”
The door cracked open and the maid indicated that Fereshteh was ready to see him.
“What is the rush?” I said, turning back to Hassan.
“Didn’t you enjoy yourself in there?” Hassan replied, and then he stopped for a moment. “Wait a minute. You don’t even have a . . . What are you doing here?”
“It is true I didn’t come here for the usual reasons,” I replied swiftly. “The business I conduct is confidential. Today it has nothing to do with face powder, thank God.”
“What is it?”
“I really shouldn’t say.”
I knew he would feel better if he forced it out of me. His opportunities for subjugating men of my rank were few.
“As Isma‘il’s companion, I demand that you tell me.”
I acted as though I had been humbled by one of my betters. “W-w-ell,” I stammered, “the t-t-truth is, I came to ask about a certain charm that makes people fall in love.”
“For whom?”
“I am not allowed—”
“The princess wants a man to fall in love with her?”
“But of course,” I replied disingenuously. “Doesn’t every woman?”
“Her brother will kill her.”
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “The charm is intended