He leaves me talking and I follow him, walking around my room, heavens, even me, I am believing this madness, that something in this damn place is mine. Nahan goes to the bathroom, walking shirtless and full of himself, washes his face and picks up my toothbrush, what the hell, my toothbrush, unbearable guy ... He fills it with toothpaste and brushes his teeth quietly, as if he had some right over my belongings, over me, as if we were close.
I'm leaning against the bathroom door and he passes by me, rubbing his body subtly on mine, stops in front of me, raises my chin and without thinking whether I want to or not, lays a chaste kiss on my lips.
-Give up this tactic of pissing me off, thinking I'll give you up, it will not happen, Bianca, I took you for me. Have you ever wondered how good this could be, between us?
-What can be so good? My abduction? Do you want to mess with me? What the hell can be so good if I do not even know what's between us?
He smiles and teases me.
-Are you sure you do not know? And you need a name to feel?
I'm not going to answer it, what I want is for him to disappear from my face, from my skin, so that I can begin to find my brain and, finally, to think more clearly.
When he is already at the door of the room, withdrawing, I provoke him:
-Because I thought my first time would be very different. I never imagined that I would serve as a distraction to some fellow.
Nahan stalks the door and back in my direction.
- First time?
I should not have said those things to tease him, I didn’t want him to find out like this. It is this look I have always hated to see, in the face of the few men who approached me. As if I had three heads.
He looks at me, I think of deflecting, but I decide to lift my chin and face him.
I need to disguise my ridiculous erection, but this combative, defiant Bianca, instigates me, excites me more than anything. She is a virgin? That's why her orgasm has surprised her and embarrassed her so much, pleasure is something new to her. Would it be right for me to take her knowing I'm not the man she deserves? The man worthy of this gift? Is it right to make her mine, even knowing that I'll probably have to marry another woman to satisfy political interests? Only though I know that what I feel is wrong, just thinking of another man putting his dirty hands on Bianca, makes me sick with rage, indignant. What I feel for her is not at all a distraction, and realizing that she sees herself as a joke, a hobby, irritates me deeply.
-You're too special, too beautiful to be considered a hobby, and to know that such idiocy has passed through your head, I'm very annoyed by you Bianca.
Nahan leaves the room and I keep looking at myself in the mirror, as if staring at me could bring me the answers I need.
So many ideas shuffle in my head. However, how long will I try to deny, to escape from his uncomfortable presence, until when I'm going to keep lying to him and myself?
I've always been honest with myself, so the question I ask myself is: what do I do when I crave it so much, even though I know it's not right?
Right now, I should be trying to figure out an escape, making a thousand and one strategies to get back home.
But I can’t think of anything, absolutely nothing, other than the memory of the taste of his mouth in mine.
The delicious sensation of his body, his skin on mine, his contained laughter and his imperfection that I love so much.
Should I stop idealizing the perfect first time, the perfect man, just stop thinking a little and live a little longer?
Half an hour later, I see Nahan come out of his room in an impeccable suit and I follow him, without him seeing me.
I go down to the kitchen and Thurayya greets me, with three other maids.
Thurayya introduces me Nair, a lady in her 40s, Fatimah, older than Nair, skinny and smiling, and finally Jasmine, chubby, silent and as young as I am.
Thurayya informs me that as long as Nahan does not find the right person to accompany me, she will keep me company wherever I want to go.
I have lunch in the kitchen with Thurayya, displeasing her.
-If Nahan sees you having lunch in the kitchen, he may not like it.
-He's not here, and I, honestly, I am kind of rebellious today, I don’t care if it's going to displease him or not.
She mumbles something and seems to smile, then speaks awkwardly:
-You do well to him, Bianca, that's good.
-I just think it's all so crazy, Thurayya.
- Please, Thura.
- Thura.
She gets up and gives orders to the other maids in Arabic and suggests that I walk around the palace a bit.
The afternoon ends and I take advantage of the mild climate to see the garden. It is immense, in front of a fountain there are juniper bushes carved like a small labyrinth, some holly and a hedge of azaleas, hydrangeas, hibiscus and princess earrings of different colours and shades.
It's all so beautiful and peaceful, it has become my favourite place ever, since I got here. I go a little further and reach a very high wall, I see no way to climb it, but I still observe it.
I hear someone coughing behind me and I come across the person responsible for my abduction, Thura told me that he is her son, Nahan's cousin, but his name runs out of my mind, he looks at me and the wall and warns me :
-You'd better not think of nonsense, It'd just give me more trouble to look for you, I can assure you that you're safer inside those walls.
Who is he to say what is best for me or not?
-I do not know if I can believe you, after all, it was you who organized my kidnapping.
He nodded impassively, without a shadow of guilt.
-I do not lie young lady, I dislike keeping you here, but it's my king's orders, I'm Jafar.
Serious, and also very handsome, his hair almost scraped, eyes darkly dark, would be irresistible to any woman, if there was no unbearable and arrogant king, in Bahrain. I respond, not caring if I would seem unfriendly:
-Under other circumstances, I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, Jafar, but I do not like lying.
He answers me, by returning the sarcasm:
-Now I understand why Nahan did not set you free.
-And why would it be?
-Excuse me, Bianca, have a good afternoon and do not forget to stay away from the walls.
I return to the palace, after tiring myself in my forays into these new lands.
Jafar informs me where the library is and that there is a plethora of old books, classics of English literature, French and I find Gabriela’s Clove and Cinnamon version in English, besides Captains of Sand and Tereza Batista, all of Jorge Amado, apparently we have a lover of Brazilian literature here in Bahrain.
I take a volume of “Grandes sertões veredas” and decide to re-read, writers like Jorge Amado, João Ubaldo Ribeiro, Guimarães Rosa are never too much, it is always a new pleasure to rediscover them.
Thurayya interrupts my meeting with Riobaldo and Reinaldo (Diadorim), telling me that Nahan will arrive late from a visit to Jidd Hafs, a town near Manama.
I go to sleep, but I turn from side to side, missing something, a strange anguish, I tighten the pillow, fluff it, throw the pillow from the bed, lie on the sofa and nothing, sleep doesn’t come, at dawn I hear footsteps by the corridor, I've known him for a little while, but I already know that it's Nahan wandering around the house, probably also trying to sleep.
I open the door and the sight of him barefoot, the pillow under his arm is getting lost in the hall.
NAHAN
I wake up early to have breakfast before Bianca wakes up.
It is ridiculous to admit that I am avoiding her presence, but in spite of being ugly, that is the plain truth.
I clunged to work and to numerous political commitments these two days.
But the fact is that I need to sleep, I think if I have just one more cup of coffee, I might as well squeeze the neck of some poor fellow.
Semira, my secretary since always, in
terrupts a conference call with a group of Russian businessmen and I take out all my anger from the universe on her.
I realized I was screaming, when my Russian interlocutors stared at me on the screen with red faces of shame. I gave a forced smile and turned toward Semira.
-Later, ask Mohamed to come to my room, Semira, and thank you very much.
Did I sound like a normal person speaking? Or did the Russians realize that I'm about to freak out?
Semira gives me back the smile, forced, contradicting her bulging eyes and leaves my room almost running.
After the teleconference, Mohamed asks to be announced, when did he ever ask to be announced? Do I seem so, out of control? I look quickly in the bathroom’s mirror and come back to welcome Mohamed. I point him couch and he looks excited, he just sits down, and he is already putting the knife in my chest.
- Two good news Nahan: Sheikh Hafiq is investigating leftist Qataris groups, he is far from suspicious of our offensives, when he wants to implement his plan, we will be ready for retaliation through the Brazilian, I can call the vehicles of communication and prepare a Pronouncement to that band of worms.
Allah merciful, I did not tell Mohamed that I gave up killing Bianca, he is organizing a whole bloody show and I could have avoided it. To complete my day of total shit, he ends up twisting the knife even more into my chest.
-And the other wonderful news is that I took the audacity to set up dinner encounter with the businessmen and leaders of Madīnat 'Īsá, Al Muharraq and Sitra in five days' time, you will be introduced to two beautiful, perfect young women, one daughter of a merchant of antiquities, and the other, her father deals with the branch of telecommunications. I think if we're lucky, within the next few months, we'll have a queen.
They didn’t give up marrying me again, Mohamed has no idea how much it irritates me, even more so, now, that I think of Bianca, and my response comes out more aggressive than I would’ve liked.
-I have already said that I am in no hurry to marry again, I will not cancel the dinner for the kindness of the guests, but before I take any initiative, let me know, Mohamed, I hate such surprises. As for the Brazilian, for now she will remain as my involuntary guest, I do not think the most offensive strategy would be to assassinate her, I'll think of another way to make the Qataris pay for what they did. For now, I will spare her life, I do not want you to lay your hands on her, do not approach her without my order, are we understood Mohamed?
Mohamed stares at me uncomprehendingly, obviously finding my behaviour incoherent. It was me, who had always been considered a ruthless man in my actions, and with his help, I planned revenge against the Hassan, so meticulously.
Now, just now, that I have a palpable instrument of revenge in my hands, I give up everything and change my mind without explaining anything at all. Even I would be curious in his place, but I am the king of this country, I do not have to give him explanations about my changes of perspective.
Specifically speaking, gorgeous 1.60 cm of new perspectives, with soft curves and lush blue eyes. Ah! If anyone is suspicious of how fragile I am because of this woman, the "Scare of Bahrain" will become a joke.
-Now let's talk about matters more important than personal revenge, the needs of the people of Bahrain are sovereign to my individual frustrations. Give me the preliminary report on studies from the opening of new oil wells.
And my afternoon was summed up in meetings and more meetings with foreign investors, engineers and oil analysts.
I returned home, tired and frustrated for behaving like a coward. I still shamelessly run away from Bianca, from the disturbing sensations she awakens in me.
Who knows maybe she is right, I do not know if it would be very honourable of me to take her as my own and then to marry irreversibly with any other woman, better suited to national political interests.
But why, I don’t feel conformed? Why can’t my heart understand that it’s not right? And why does it seem so wrong, so meaningless?
I drag myself into Amira's bedroom, only Thura and I come in here, and everything remains exactly the same since she left.
The bed decorated with pink and yellow, as she liked, her little doll of cloth, missing one eye, the wooden horse we loved to play big battles. I walk in a circle, watching, anesthetized by the longing, still feeling her rosy smell on the pillow.
I go to the dresser and fold some clothes, I like to keep everything tidy, everything organized, but for what? I honestly can’t explain it, what's the use of this whole organization, if my little girl is not coming back?
I walk up to my suite, open the closet with Ishna's clothes and sit on the edge of the bed, reminiscing about the rare moments of genuine happiness, where we really could only be a couple, with no government commitments, no poses and calculated smiles, there were few, but precious.
It was difficult to penetrate Ishna's breastplate, but she was indisputably an exemplary wife; she gave me my greatest gift, Amira.
I feel suffocated by the walls of this room, too many memories, an atmosphere charged with anguish, any place is better to sleep than here.
Far from this bitter grip that takes me, for all I've lived. From what we could have lived, if she had not been torn from me. I take my pillow and after spending a good amount of hours of the morning circling almost every room, I decide that the room will be chosen for my series of torture.
I lie on the couch, turning from side to side, and at a moment from my restless nap, I feel a soft touch on my face.
Bianca, without saying a word, sits down on the couch and brings my head to her lap, her hands wandering through my hair, weaving the locks in her fingers, stroking my ragged beard, not shaved for over three days.
I close my eyes and for myself at this late hour of the night I don’t care.
Her touch brings me the peace, the comfort, the warmth I long for ages, eagerly awaiting.
Two days passed like a blur, without a word being exchanged, and every night we lived the same moment of respite, dismissing the verb, empty explanations.
Just me, her and our moment.
In the last few nights the carpet in the library has served us as a mattress, she came with her pillow under her arm, silently laid down in front of me, and at dawn I brought her soft body against mine and I absorbed my most powerful sleep-aid: the indefectible scent of her skin. Burying my nose in the curve of her neck, until finally, we were taken by sleep.
Today I woke up happier, I look at the pillows still on the rug and she has already awakened.
Bianca always runs away in the morning and I don’t pressure her, I do not torture myself with questions that neither of us are prepared to answer.
We only comfort ourselves when night falls, without the carnality, of consummated sex.
Finding peace to my tiredness, in her scent, in her touch, satisfies me, at this moment.
However, while it satisfies me, it leads me to an unthinking agony.
I want it more, with every passing minute. Every tickling of the hours disturbs me more as I die for taking them, for forgetting about myself in her body, and this, precisely this point, that invisible bridge between the delicacy of the waiting and the necessity of the possession is that we can’t cross.
Today my control is on the verge of breaking, I scream at the guards and at my secretaries, Semira disappears from my room running, and until Jafar wakes me from my outbreak of anger, I have already threatened and terrified half of Bahrain.
-We need to talk, my king.
I am trapped in the room at the government’s headquarters of Bahrain, in a black three-piece suit that stifles me, pushing the chairs in front of me as I circle like a wounded lion.
-No, Jafar, we do not have to. I know very well what you're going to tell me. What I need is for you and these leeches to leave me alone and a cup full of bitter coffee with two bits of cardamom.
I fiercely bark Semira’s name without bothering to call her over the phone.
-Semira, just whe
n I need you, you decide to go to the bathroom, ah! Hell.
She comes hurriedly down the hallway and I sit down on the couch, gesturing for Jafar to accompany me.
Semira just puts her head inside the room and I shoot:
-Two cups of coffee, with two bits of cardamom and a drop of milk, I also want the halawi that Thura sent me, it's stored in the press, I put it there myself.
Less than five minutes Semira comes back with coffee and halawi, I taste the coffee and the fury takes me.
-I said two, two bites of cardamom. Hell, a thousand times hell, I just want coffee the way I like it, is that asking a lot from you Semira, you've known me for years, you do not know how I like my coffee, you want to drive me crazy?
She left the room without knowing what to answer, coming back with coffee the way I asked. Jafar drinks his coffee with laughter, and if I had a rope now, I would wrap it around his neck and stretch it without a second thought, ah! Jafar, do not play with me today, I eat your liver for lunch, without pain.
I say what I think aloud and he laughs even louder.
Ah! Jafar, if you were not my cousin, I swear I'd put you in the basement and throw the key away in the Sahara. Can I know what is so funny?
He shakes his head in disbelief and continues to stare at me. Until he shoots:
-You should accept the suggestion of Mohamed and take a bride or take your Brazilian once and for all.
I look at him even more angry and I have the face of denying cock.
- Bianca? She is not mine. How come? My Brazilian? I'm not in the mood now to think of women, Jafar.
-If she is not yours, then in my humble opinion, you should let her go back to her land.
He wants to push me and I fall into his traps like a duckling, Jafar, Machiavellian Jafar.
I scream without realizing that I am being ridiculous. I am now nothing more than a hilarious king, full of irrational ideas.
- No! Hell! Jafar do not tease me, I told you she stays. But that does not mean she's mine.
I scream from my lungs, with the mouth full of Thura's halawi.
- Semira, call Sayd here later, what the hell, where's Sayd when you need him the most?
Lovely Concubine Page 5