thoughts ever crossed, like stray breezes.”
“Or a pair of swallows.” Aladdin made his fingers dance around each other in the air.
“But wealth isn’t a magic lamp that suddenly erases all your problems,” Jasmine said slowly, breaking off a piece of bread for herself. “Imagine being a large bird in a tiny—but golden—cage. If it weren’t for the death of my father, I’d be happier now than I’ve ever been. I’m free here. Having the freedom to choose is better than having everything you want.”
“You’d better convince the people of Agrabah that,” Aladdin said wryly. “Otherwise they’ll never back you. So far they seem to prefer full bellies and no choice.”
“When I am sultana, they shall have both,” Jasmine vowed. “I will figure out how to feed the people and keep them free. They shall go to school—all of the children, no matter what religion, no matter what class. Boys and girls. They shall be given every opportunity to do whatever they wish when they grow up and not be forced to thieve and beg. This I swear.”
Her eyes were distant, looking at some future sight, a world of her own building. Aladdin had no doubt that she would achieve that vision or die trying. She made him believe that it was actually possible…that a kind of paradise on earth could be possible.
And he was willing to do whatever it took to help her with that dream.
“I believe you,” he whispered. “I believe in you.”
He never would have dared kiss the royal princess Jasmine.
But it turned out he didn’t need to.
The royal princess Jasmine leaned over and kissed him.
Her skin was warm and smelled of sand and mint. Aladdin melted into the kiss like his whole body had been waiting for it and he didn’t even know it himself. She put her hands around his neck and drew him in closer. One of her hands worked up into his hair, the other onto his shoulder, with a need he hadn’t realized she felt.
“So I guess we’re done fighting?” Aladdin whispered.
The royal princess Jasmine tweaked him on the nose.
“MORNING, FOLKS,” Duban yawned, stepping into the room with slapping feet and big heavy steps. He had a large brass ibrik of steaming hot coffee and several tiny delicate-looking cups. Despite this, he fell like a donkey onto a floor pillow. Not a drop spilled. Blearily, he set out the cups and poured.
“Wait, it’s night, isn’t it?” Jasmine asked, looking up from the book she was reading. “It’s so dark in here—you lose track of time.”
“Dusk is morning to those who work in the shadows,” Duban said, expertly pouring despite his narrowed eyes. “Sorry, oh great Robber Queen and Sultana-to-Be, I didn’t ask how you liked yours. I made it with lots of sugar, the way Dad taught me.”
“I would drink the dregs at the bottom of an army canteen right now,” Jasmine said, delicately picking up her cup, “and I’m sure yours is much better.”
“Jasmine!”
Two chaotic bundles of rags came rushing into the room and threw themselves onto the princess’s lap. She laughed and put an arm around each.
“Shirin, Ahmed,” Maruf chastised, coming in slowly behind them with the particular tap-slide gait his bad leg gave him. “Do not treat the royal princess like your personal auntie.”
Aladdin cocked his head and looked at Ahmed, who had Abu sitting on his shoulder just as naturally as you please. Sort of like a miniature…Aladdin.
“It’s all right, Maruf,” Jasmine said, giving them a squeeze. “I never got to play with children at the palace. Even distant relatives were told to, uh, ‘keep their distance.’”
Shirin looked up at Jasmine with huge, adoring eyes. Then she found Jasmine’s little silver dagger and played with it wistfully, singing a song that sounded suspiciously like the anthem they played in Jafar’s crazy parade.
“They seem pretty happy,” Duban said, indicating the children with his cup.
“Happier than they’ve been in a long time,” Maruf said bleakly.
“Your sister hated thievery. She swore that neither she nor her children would ever have anything to do with it,” Aladdin remarked. “And here they are, in the very belly of the beast.”
“Well, if she were still around, maybe she’d have a say in the matter,” Duban growled.
“I meant no disrespect,” Aladdin said, holding up his hand. Very few things could get the normally rock-solid Duban riled. The fate of his sister was one of those things, however. “I just meant…they seem to be thriving here.”
“Well,” Maruf said brightly, “what could be better than having a royal