Page 4 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
Zahra ducked inside. The servants’ area was in chaos. Preparations were being made for Master Darius’s return that night and the young ladies’ trip to the Feast in the capital. Master Darius was an hour priest, so he spent most of his time in the observatories around Aur and running the obelisk near them. Since he was usually not home, his wife, Bahiti, ran the affairs of the household.
Zahra pushed past the other servants and stepped into her room. Twelve hammocks hung from the walls with wooden chests beneath them. The room was cramped, and the only source of light came from a window near the ceiling.
Zahra opened her chest, moving the few dresses and sheets she called her own to the side. Underneath the bottom-most sheet sat her collection ofdeben. She added the pouch to the pile, wishing she had the time to count it.
“Sobki,” Bahiti screamed from upstairs.
Zahra returned everything to its place before running out of the room. She grabbed an empty basket from the kitchen and dashed up the stairs, thinking of what excuse Bahiti would hatethe least. She arrived at the top right as Bahiti turned the corner from the dining area.
Bahiti’s eyes locked on the empty basket. “What have you been up to, girl?”
“I can explain.”
Bahiti pushed Zahra against the wall, ripped the basket from her hands, and threw it on the floor. The basket splintered into pieces. Bahiti’s jewelry clinked together as she leaned over Zahra, her straight wig falling over her ears. “My fruit, girl. Where is it? Where is mydeben?”
“It was stolen in the marketplace,” Zahra stammered. “I tried to get it back but?—”
Bahiti slapped Zahra hard. Zahra fell to the floor, holding her hand over her throbbing cheek. She wiped her lip, swallowing the taste of blood.
Bahiti’s eyes burned into Zahra’s back. “Stand.”
Zahra stood, her legs wobbling.
Bahiti raised her head. “Tell me again. What happened to mydeben?”
Zahra summoned a breath. Bahiti wouldn’t believe that someone would dare steal from her. She had not believed it when the Ur brothers had struck in the past, and she wouldn’t believe it now—especially when they were the sons of an esteemed military general. “I lost the basket. I put it down, and it was taken. I apologize for my foolishness, and I accept responsibility for the payment lost.”
Bahiti sneered at Zahra. Warm spittle soaked Zahra’s cheek. “Clean yourself up,” she ordered, waving her away. “You cannot serve my daughters looking like a rat. Fix that basket, too, while you are at it. I will add the lostdebento your father’s debt.”
Zahra clenched her fists. “Yes, Mistress.” She picked up the broken basket and walked down the stairs, glad for the solitude her empty room offered. She attacked the basket first, trying toconnect its splintered pieces. When she finished, she turned to her clothes and replaced her dress and shawl, using a wet cloth to wipe her limbs free of dirt.
Zahra considered the savings that hid at the bottom of her chest as she scrubbed at the dirt. For the last year, Zahra had been stashing away any extradebenshe earned. Her debt was not as simple as Aaliyah’s, and she couldn’t trust Bahiti to properly apply the money to her and her father’s debt. So, here it stayed until she had enough to settle her debt in full.
A hard knock came at the door. Zahra put her things away and opened it.
Jala, her roommate, stood there and bore a folded gown in her arms. “Femi said her dress needs to be mended for the Feast tonight.”
Zahra sighed and took the gown. She had finished Femi’s dress yesterday, and already the girl had torn it. She collected her sewing supplies from her chest. “Thank you, Jala.”
Jala remained in the doorway with an uncertain expression.
Zahra eyed Jala. “Is there anything else that you require?”
Jala’s eyes darted outside of the room, where the other servants were busily running about. She glanced at the gown as she grabbed the door to close it. “If you go, please don’t tell Bahiti I was the one that told you.” Then she shut the door.
Zahra stood, bewildered. Her gaze landed on the gown as Aaliyah and Jala’s words went through her mind. With a doubtful glance at the closed door, she knelt on the ground and unfolded the gown in her lap. Sure enough, hidden within the folds of the fabric was a papyrus. It was already opened, and the original honey seal had been cut in two, but the symbol upon the seal was clear—the two crowns of the Pharaohs.
Zahra sucked in a breath. She glanced up toward the window, making sure no one was watching before she pulled the papyrustoward her. She recognized her name at the top of the paper and, with a fast-beating heart, read the letter.
“Zahra, daughter of Omar. You are hereby invited to join the King for the great Pa-sekhemty Feast. Should you choose to come, you will be numbered among the many maidens honored to dance with the King, of whom one will become his bride and the Queen of Aur.”
The letter fell in her lap before she could finish reading the rest. Aaliyah had been right after all. The Kinghadinvited her people. He had invitedher.
So why had she not received this invitation sooner?
Zahra thought of her Mistress. Bahiti must have been horrified to see that Zahra had received the same invitation as her high-born daughters. It was no wonder Jala had been so discreet when delivering the papyrus.
Zahra studied the message once more before rolling up the papyrus. It did not matter that Bahiti had tried to hide this from her. She had no intention of going to the Feast except to help Bahiti’s daughters. A belated invitation from the King wouldn’t change that.
