bring justice back to those who have lost it.”
I was filled with pride at the sight of her in her dark robe, her intelligence bursting from her pearly brow, the very pinnacle of learning and grace produced by three thousand years of Iranian civilization. No one would be a better ruler! She had proved herself once, and now she would finally receive the opportunity to show all she could do. My heart soared with joy for her.
“May God shower His blessings on you!”
“As my devoted servant, your position will become more exalted,” she added. “I will provide a good title for you when I organize the men of the Shah’s inner circle.”
“Princess, it is my life’s greatest honor to continue to serve you.”
I had good reason for hope. I would finally be able to bring Jalileh to Qazveen and to provide her with a sumptuous dowry. If she married one day and had children, their laughter would echo all through the house. At last, I would be part of a family again.
A messenger knocked at the door and announced Shamkhal Cherkes. It had been months since we had seen him. I stood up before he entered and positioned myself in my usual place near the door. There were more lines on his face and more gray hair in his beard than I remembered; it looked as if his service to Isma‘il had been hard on him. He sat on a cushion across from Pari, his powerful body tense.
“Princess, I came as soon as I could to offer my condolences about your brother Isma‘il,” he said. “Not to mention all the other princes who died during his reign.”
“Thank you,” Pari replied, then lapsed into silence.
“May I speak with you in private?”
“My servant Javaher is like one of my own limbs.”
My heart bloomed under the sun of her words.
“Of course,” he said, not bothering to glance at me, so great was his desire to please her. “I came to tell you how much I admire your courage.”
“No doubt it comes from our family,” Pari said, returning the compliment, but with only the thinnest of politeness.
“Really, I mean it.”
There was an awkward silence, which Pari refused to fill.
“I have come to ask whether, in this difficult moment, there is any service I can provide for you.” There was a pleading look in his eyes.
“No, thank you.”
Shamkhal adjusted his large white turban awkwardly. Pari didn’t bother to offer tea or sweetmeats or other comforts.
“It is difficult to explain how trying it has been to live under the constant threat that the Shah might decide to kill me.”
“You, too?” asked Pari sarcastically.
“I deeply regret not helping you more,” Shamkhal continued. “We were all paralyzed by fear, as if caught in a fog through which we could not see. You alone weren’t afraid.”
“I was afraid.”
“But you didn’t permit your fear to stop you from taking care of the problem.”
“Uncle, whatever do you mean?” she parried, wisely refusing to admit to anything. “My poor brother died from an opium overdose and extreme indigestion, by God’s will. The important question at the moment is what will happen next.”
“That is why I am here. I want to assist you.”
He was too vital an ally to dismiss outright, yet how could she trust him? Her eyes were full of reproach.
“I haven’t always done what you wanted,” he said, “but have always kept you in my heart.”
“Indeed? What I am to do with someone who promises loyalty to me, then gives it to someone else?”
“What else could I have done? I couldn’t say no to the Shah’s promotions without offending, and I couldn’t countermand his orders without getting in trouble.”
“Did you advocate for me?”
“I tried, but he wouldn’t budge. I suspect that someone powerful has been speaking out against you, Pari.”
“Mirza Shokhrollah?”
“I don’t know. At one point, Isma‘il mentioned a reason for his animosity. He said that you had thrown your support behind Mahmood Mirza before he was crowned.”
“You know I never did.”
She spoke the truth.
“I wonder if that rumor originated with Mirza Salman,” he continued.
Pari looked unconvinced.
“His promotion to such a high post was a surprise. What did he do to earn it?”
“He is good at his job,” she said. “He is also fiercely loyal. He even came to visit me after the Shah had prohibited it.”
Shamkhal looked abashed. “Pari jan—my life, listen to me. We are family. I will always advocate for you, unless the Shah orders otherwise. At least I am willing to admit to the truth of