Equal of the Sun A Novel - By Anita Amirrezvani Page 0,29
“Pari, you know that someone could be found if you wished it.”
“What, some noble who is posted to the provinces? I would be bored.”
“But, daughter of mine, don’t you wish for children?” Her mother looked desperate. “What about grandchildren for me? I grow old. I can’t wait forever.”
“Suleyman and his wife will provide them for you, I am certain.”
“Pari, where is your womanly feeling? I tell you, there is nothing more satisfying than holding your own child in your arms. You don’t know it yet, but I pray that you will soon.”
“I have told you many times that I am content as I am. I take after my aunt Maheen Banu.”
“Not exactly. You have not predeceased your protector, and therefore, you must be cautious.”
Maheen Banu had served as one of Tahmasb Shah’s most sagacious advisors all her life. People at court couldn’t stop talking about how she had argued for providing military assistance to the Mughal emperor Homayoun when he needed it. In gratitude, he had ceded the entire province of Qandahar to Iran.
Pari didn’t reply. Her mother adjusted the scarf over her hair, the lines at her lips deepening with determination.
“I mean no disrespect, but your father was very selfish. He kept your aunt as a bride for the Mahdi, in case the Hidden Imam should return from occultation to bring justice back to Iran during her lifetime—”
“—and he kept a horse saddled at all times, I know, Mother, I know, so that they could depart whenever they wished.”
“But you he kept for himself,” her mother added in an accusatory tone. “I can’t forgive him for putting his love for you over what was best for you.”
“Mother!” said Pari. “What he did was best for me, too.”
“It is true that no woman had his ear like you did, but that is why so many are now eager to see your demise.”
Pari’s generous lips curved into a frown. “People love to dwell on the pain of others; they love to stick their fingers in it and suck on it as if it were honey. But I won’t allow them to feed at my hive. I didn’t leave my father’s side, for the simple reason that I preferred his company to that of any other man.”
“You can’t assume you will retain your old position.”
“You must let me see what fate brings me,” said Pari, her voice rising in exasperation.
Daka looked as if she would not give up. “Pari, I didn’t want to say this, but I am frightened. Let me keep you safe. You know I would sacrifice myself for you!”
She tore the silk scarf off her head, revealing thin, graying hair. She bent her head forward, yanked out a few hairs from her mousy pink scalp, and laid them in front of her daughter.
“As your mother, I demand that you heed my counsel!”
She grabbed another few strands and prepared to yank them out. It was awful to witness.
“Ah, ah, Mother, stop!” Pari cried, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her head.
Daka let her wrist go limp. “My child, this time I won’t be dissuaded. All I ask is that you consider a list of candidates. If none pleases, you may say so. But if you are in trouble, a rapid marriage could save you. I won’t leave this cushion until you give your assent.”
From outside we heard the call to prayer. The day was passing.
“Pari, you must not be so stubborn. Times have changed, and you must change, too.”
“On the contrary, Mother. Other women are moonlike, waxing and waning. Not me.”
“Please, my child. I beg you. As the woman who gave you your first milk, I have rights that transcend your own will.”
Pari sighed heavily; her mother had made the one argument that no child could deny. “All right then, if you must, but do not make this quest public.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is my last choice.”
“My child, how strange you are!” her mother said in vexation. “What kind of woman wouldn’t wish to be married?”
Pari looked away. “You would not understand—it is not in your blood.”
“Voy, voy!” said her mother. “I have never pretended to royal blood like yours. But perhaps your blood is what makes you such an oddity compared to other women.”
“Perhaps,” Pari replied, in a tone as final as a door being slammed. “Mother, I wish I could sit with you all day, but now you must give me leave to do my work.”
“It is granted,” Daka replied, standing up stiffly. “But do not forget—protecting