Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,21

of being killed. Hossein Beyg’s guard closed ranks around him, and he escaped in the confusion.

Shamkhal directed his men to leave the palace grounds through the door that led to the Promenade of the Royal Stallions and to take up guard outside the Ali Qapu. As they marched out, he tossed me the large metal key. I followed, slammed the heavy door behind them, and locked it securely.

The rosebushes nearby had been decapitated. A nightingale began to sing in one of the cedar trees, reminding me of a lament. My red roses threw open their skirts for you, but now their petals darken the ground like tears of blood. Dust coated my clothes, and my mouth tasted of bile.

I stumbled to Pari’s house and told her and Maryam what had happened. Their faces turned pale when I described Haydar’s death. “It is as if the dirt of my grave is covering my head!” the princess said. “Why didn’t my uncle do my bidding?”

“It was God’s will,” I replied, trying to offer comfort.

Her thin body seemed as fragile as a long-necked rose-water sprinkler made of glass. Although I would have liked to comfort her, I knew Maryam would soothe away her woes better than anyone else could.

I returned to the dormitory that housed the eunuchs who served the harem. Our building, which was notable only for its modesty, now struck me as a sanctuary. Collapsing onto a wool cushion in the guest room, I shed my soiled outer robe and told a servant to bring me tea with plenty of dates. My hand seemed palsied as I lifted the vessel to my mouth.

Before long, Balamani joined me. His eyes were pink, the lids puffy.

“Do you mourn for Haydar Mirza?” I asked.

His eyes grew large with astonishment. “What do you mean?”

I couldn’t help myself: I felt a surge of satisfaction that I knew the world-changing news before he did.

That evening, I was weary and in need of comfort. Some men would have turned to opium or bang, a vision-inducing drink made with hemp, but I didn’t think either would help. I placated my stomach with bread, cheese, and fresh herbs, then went to my room and listened to Balamani’s sonorous snores. Lying on my bedroll, I watched the events of the day repeat themselves before my eyes, the red stain on Haydar’s gray robe growing in my vision until it filled the blackness of my room like a suppurating wound. When the moon appeared in a window in the roof, spots of blood blemished its smooth white surface. The spots grew until the moon became a bright red disk bleeding its course across the sky, and I awoke with tense limbs and ragged breath. I could not stay still. I arose, dressed, and walked on a path fringed by plane trees until I reached the entrance to the long, low building that housed Sultanam’s ladies. I whispered to the eunuch on duty that I had an urgent message for Khadijeh, placing a coin in his hand as I spoke.

Khadijeh was alone, having sent her bedmate elsewhere. Her eyes were bright in the moonlight, and the ends of her long, curly hair looked tipped in silver.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “I keep thinking about what happened today.”

“That is why I came.”

“Did you see it?”

“Everything,” I replied, unable to keep the horror out of my voice. Men had been executed while I had served at court, but never with so little civility.

“You are shivering!” Khadijeh pulled back the wool blanket. “Come get warm.”

I removed my turban and outer robe, and slid in beside her with the rest of my clothing on. She laid the front of her body against my back and wrapped her arms around me. I felt the roundness of her breasts through her cotton nightclothes, and my skin warmed as if I were in front of a blazing fire.

“Aw khesh!” I said gratefully, absorbing her heat. “You warm me outside and in.”

In response, she kissed my neck. Her lips smelled of roses. How shocked the late Shah would have been to learn that one of his ladies held a eunuch in her arms!

“Where were you today?” I asked.

“Hiding with Sultanam, in case Haydar’s men took over the palace,” she said, her body stiffening.

“I am glad you are safe.”

Her dark eyes were serious. “Tell me what you saw.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to frighten you.”

“You can’t,” Khadijeh replied sharply. “I stopped being afraid the day the slavers threw my mother’s corpse