Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,24
She had donned her darkest mourning robes and was in her writing room applying her seal to a letter. Beside her lay an open book penned in exquisite calligraphy with illustrated pages. It was the Shahnameh.
“Good morning, lieutenant of my life,” I said. “How is your health?”
“Surprising,” she replied. “I still walk and breathe on this earth, unlike my poor father and his ill-starred son. I can hardly grasp that there are now two royal corpses in the palace, one of a son who may have killed his father, and one of a father whose erstwhile allies have killed his son. I have turned to Ferdowsi for guidance, but nowhere in the Shahnameh do I recall a like situation that could advise or console me in my grief.”
“Princess, I remember that in the middle of the poem, Ferdowsi laments the death of his only son. Do you recall how he interjects himself into the story to announce his grief?”
“I do. That is the keenest statement of mourning that a man of such personal restraint could make—yet no consolation is offered.”
“Perhaps none is possible.”
She sighed. “None is possible.”
“I am hopeful that this will be your final sorrow.”
She looked so youthful and vulnerable that I was reminded of her brother Mahmood when he was small, and I felt a pang. I missed him.
Her smile was pained. “I would be grateful if that were true. God willing, Isma‘il will take the throne, but at what cost? Never would my father have approved of one of his sons being hunted down and murdered like a rabbit. Even Isma‘il, who our father felt betrayed him, was not dispatched like a piece of meat. It is a disgraceful insult, one that makes my shattered heart feel more shattered still.”
“Princess, you did everything you could. It was God’s will.”
She paused for a moment. “Your service to me has been a consolation. I wish to thank you for all you did yesterday.”
She handed me a cloth bag, which I opened to discover a stack of finely embroidered blue silk handkerchiefs. They showed a noblewoman reclining on a carpet under a walnut tree, her attention focused on a book. My heart soared: For the first time, Pari had entrusted me with one of her personal possessions. From now on, I would carry one of her handkerchiefs inside my robe in case she needed it.
“Thank you, Princess. Your confidence in me fills me with joy.”
“I heard you avoided an attempt on your life by one of Haydar’s men. I didn’t expect you to be so brave.”
I bowed my head, thinking about how ruthlessly the eunuch Bagoas led the ancient empire of Iran, crushing even mighty Egypt.
“I am going to need someone of your mettle in the days ahead. Until Isma‘il arrives, nothing is certain. I have written to him this morning and advised him to come quickly so that the nobles whose aims have been disappointed don’t rebel. Take this letter to my chief courier and tell him to deliver it at once.”
In her public reception rooms, Pari positioned herself behind the lattice. The hall was crowded with people, from lowly errand boys with messages from their masters to noblemen like her vizier Majeed, who was the first admitted. He spoke in a breathless, high-pitched voice, as if he had not been able to calm himself since the events of the day before.
“Esteemed princess, the court is in chaos. Many nobles who supported Haydar have fled in fear of their lives. The ones who have remained don’t know to whom to report. The cooks have abandoned their kitchens.”
Pari’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Go to Anwar and tell him to meet with the head cook. Their first responsibility is to restore the service of the kitchens immediately.”
“Yes, esteemed princess,” Majeed replied, “but Anwar won’t know from whom to take his orders, now that the Shah is dead.”
“Tell him his future depends on taking them from me.”
Majeed’s brow furrowed and his lips contorted before he blurted out, “And where is he to get the money?”
“From the royal treasury, of course.”
“The chief treasurer is nowhere to be found, and the officials whose seals are needed are gone.”
“I will find those people and demand their help,” Pari said. “In the meantime, tell Anwar I will pay for it out of my own purse.”
“But much silver will be necessary!”
“My good vizier, perhaps you don’t realize that I have inherited my legal share of my father’s fortune.”