by Jade
"But I am the master of the lamp," Aladdin said.
"Not any more," Amani said. "Gwandoya is my master now. And unlike you, he keeps the lamp safe on his person at all times, not in some alcove where anyone could see and steal it."
"But who would steal an old lamp?"
Amani sounded disapproving. "Anyone who knows its true worth. To have a powerful sorcerer like me at their command is something many would kill for."
"Gwandoya has already killed many men to get his hands on that lamp, and I was nearly one of them. There is no telling what he will do with such power." Aladdin sounded determined. "We must get it back."
"Nothing will make him surrender something so precious while he lives."
Maram raised her head and wiped her eyes. "Then Gwandoya must die. I won't let him kill Aladdin."
"Princess..." both men began.
She held up a hand to silence them. "I know I am not a fighter. I am a diplomat. But I have other weapons, and I'll be damned if I let him win. Tomorrow Gwandoya will die, and then I will get to go home. Are you with me?"
It took several hours and all Maram's powers of persuasion to get Aladdin and Amani to agree to her plan, but they did. The moon had reached its zenith, turning the jewelled garden into a sparkly paradise, as Amani took the hint and left her alone with Aladdin.
There were no tears when they came together this time, only kisses and increasingly urgent caresses. "Make love to me," Maram begged. She, who had never begged a man for anything in her life.
"When we are safely home and wed," Aladdin promised, stealing her breath with another kiss.
"Now!" she insisted. "Tomorrow anything could happen. Either of us could die, or he might escape with the lamp and leave us here, stranded. Tomorrow is uncertain, but I need to spend tonight in your arms."
She expected him to argue more, but all he said was, "As you wish, Princess."
Hardly daring to believe her luck, Maram led him to her bedchamber, where she eagerly peeled off her clothes. She turned, wanting to feast her eyes on Aladdin's body before she touched him. She had waited a long time for this.
"Why aren't you undressed?" she asked. Stepping forward, she seized the hem of his tunic. "Here, let me help you."
Gently, he pried her hands off his clothes. "No, Princess. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. I swore I would set you free from your slavery, and I will. Your body is not a plaything for men to use for their own pleasure. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and you deserve more, far more, than I can ever give. I love you, and I will take whatever pleasure you are willing to give me when you are free. Which you will never be, until we are wed."
"But you said..."
He gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Then he lay beside her, pulling her body against his, wrapping one arm around her breasts while his other hand rested on her belly. "I will hold you in my arms, like I said, and for now, I will be content."
She squirmed. "And if I am not? What about what I want?" She seized his hand from her belly and guided it between her thighs. "I want you, Aladdin. I am wet with anticipation, wanting the pleasure I will only feel when you are inside me."
His free arm tightened around her breasts. "Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse in her ear.
"Of course."
The words had barely left her lips before his fingers speared deep inside her, stroking all the right spots to make her gasp.
"More?"
"Oh yes!"
He hooked his leg around hers, anchoring her more firmly to his body as his fingers worked what could only be described as magic. One perfectly-placed circle of his thumb tipped her over the edge, sobbing his name.
He kissed the back of her neck. "Are you satisfied now, Princess?"
"Never!" she declared, then squeaked as his fingers moved within her once more, stroking passion-inflamed flesh to another irresistible climax. She bucked, but he held her firmly in his arms, intent on her pleasure, even as he ignored his own growing arousal digging into her back. "You want me. I can feel it."
He laughed softly. "I don't just want you. I love you, and I desire you so much it hurts. But the only pleasure I will take in your bed tonight is yours." Again, his fingers stroked her, finding her most intimate places and making them sing.
Until...until...
"Aladdin, oh, how I love you!" she screamed.
THIRTY-TWO
"Something has changed. You are not as dejected as you were yesterday," Gwandoya greeted Maram, eyeing her with suspicion.
No woman could be dejected after a night experiencing the magic Aladdin could work with his fingers. The thought of what he might do with the rest of his body and hers was more than a little distracting. Not to mention frustrating, for he refused to give her more yet. That's why she'd spent the day leafing through the scrolls and books among her mother's things, looking for more information on djinn enslavement. After all, her mother had been a witch, too, with powers as limited as Maram's own.
"I miss having a man in my bed," she said honestly. "I have decided it is time to look to the future, and what you can give me. I have no maidservants here, and I have not had a new gown in weeks!"
Gwandoya's eyebrows rose, but as she spoke more fervently about maids and gowns, the suspicion in his expression slipped away. The man almost smiled.
He clapped his hands. "This calls for a betrothal feast. Bring us plenty of food and wine, for we will need it while we discuss our wedding."
Amani bowed and disappeared. Off to get what Gwandoya had asked for, no doubt. And what she had asked for, too.
Maram braced herself for what would be the biggest negotiation of her life, as she and Gwandoya argued the terms of a marriage she had no intention of entering into. Servants and jewels, palaces and gowns – for Gwandoya boasted that Amani could build her a palace anywhere she wanted, made of anything she pleased.
In the middle of Maram's lengthy deliberation of whether to have a stone castle far in the north, surrounded by blackberry hedges, or a palace like this one overlooking the sea, Amani brought a jug of wine.
"The finest vintage from the Sultan's own vineyards, which have lain in his cellar for more than a century," Amani announced, pouring cups for them both.
Maram's eyes lit up. "Ooh, is this the wine I told you about?"
Amani bowed. "Yes, Princess, it is."
She sipped, and scrunched up her face. The opium tasted as bitter as she had expected. "It does have a bite to it. Keeping it in a cellar for a century must do that, I suppose. But there is no better wine to toast our union with." She lifted her cup. "To our health and happiness, my lord."
Gwandoya preened, probably at the unearned title. He lifted his own cup. "To our health and happiness indeed." He drained his cup, then smacked his lips appreciatively. "Tis strong stuff. Too strong for a woman, especially one who is about to become my obedient wife and bear my sons." He snatched up her cup and drained that, too, before commanding Amani to pour more for himself alone. "We shall start tonight."
Maram stared at him in shock. His calculating eyes regarded her over the rim of his cup as he gulped more wine, daring her to object. Obedience had been one of the things she'd traded for...something. If it meant he drank more of the drugged wine, then she would not argue. "Yes, my lord," she said, ducking her head in fake submission.
An idea struck her. "I have the perfect idea for my wedding gown. I would like seven layers of silk..." She described in excruciating detail one of the gowns she'd seen on the Queen of Beacon Isle, changing her mind about the colour only to return to the original shade as she saw Gwandoya's eyelids drooping.
Sleep, you mad bastard, she thought, pasting a smile on her face as she began a long debate about the merits of the exquisitely detailed painted shoes in Kasmirus compared to the silk slippers found in the bazaars closer to home.
"A good embroiderer can do just an intricate design with thread as a painter can with pigment, but there are few pain
ters in Kasmirus who are talented enough any more. The royal family has a pair of christening shoes that have been in their family for generations, the most beautiful pair I have ever seen..."
Gwandoya's head flopped forward into a bowl of the bugs he liked so much.
"My lord?" she enquired. "Gwandoya?" She called his name several times, before gesturing for Amani to check him. She had no intention of touching him.
Amani eased Gwandoya's face out of the bowl and laid him on the floor. "He sleeps, but he still draws breath," Amani reported.
May heaven forgive her, but she had not been able to bring herself to kill the man, even with poison. Maram breathed out a sigh of relief. "Bring me the lamp."
Amani folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. "I cannot." His tone softened. "A new master of the lamp must take it from the old. I cannot choose who I serve."
"Fine." She rose and leaned over Gwandoya's sleeping form. The detestable man let out a loud snore. She reached into his tunic and pulled it from the grimy pocket where he kept it. Maram cradled the lamp in her clean hand while wiping the tainted one down the side of his tunic. Time to see if the old books were right.
A cloud of smoke surrounded Amani as he swelled to his full height, the impressive bulk of a djinn greeting his new master for the first time. "What is your wish, mistress?" he boomed.
"Take me, and everyone and everything inside this palace, back home where we belong." Remembering the first time, when she'd hit her head, she added, "As smoothly as possible, please, so that no one feels a thing."
"As you wish, mistress."
She felt the movement, little more than the sway of a ship at sea, before a slight bump told her they had arrived. A peep out the window revealed the shadow of buildings as someone carrying a torch ambled down the street. Maram was home.
"What else do you wish, mistress?"
"I wish to be free to marry the one I love, to be no man's slave any more."
Amani looked pained. "Princess, I cannot..."
Maram lifted her dagger from the table and sliced it across her hand. "I know. But I can. Blood of the betrayed that binds this djinn, my father's blood that runs in my veins, too, will set us both free." She seized the lamp in her bleeding hand, smearing the stuff over the blackened brass. "I am no man's mistress!"
Aladdin appeared. "Maram, no..."
She tossed the lamp at his feet. "Yes." She turned to Amani. "You are free. Find her, free her, and be happy."
Tears filled Amani's eyes, as, man-sized once more, he bowed at Maram's feet. "As you command, Princess. When I find her, I will tell her that you have found happiness, too. If you ever have need of me, you have only to call, and I will be there to grant your wish." He touched her hand, and she felt the cut heal as though it had never been. Only then did Amani rise and incline his head to Aladdin. "Enjoy your palace. Consider it my wedding gift to the princess. But if you ever hurt her...know you will incur the enmity of the most powerful enchanter in the world. A man with no master. Not any more." He stuck a finger in his mouth, withdrew it, then traced a circle in the air. A portal opened, and he stepped through and was gone.
"Why did you do that? He was a traitor! The enslavement was his punishment for crimes even we do not know!" Aladdin's wild eyes reminded Maram of Gwandoya.
"I know. His only crime was to love my mother, and win her love in return. Neither of us deserves to be a slave, serving a master who might use us for ill." She took his hand. "Please understand."
Aladdin swallowed. "I admit I do not, but there is very little about you I do understand. You are a great mystery to me, Princess Maram, but one I intend to spend my whole life studying. As long as your father doesn't kill me first."
"Why would my father kill my husband to be?"
"He gave me a month to bring you and this palace back, or he would cut off my head. Tomorrow is the last day of my month."
Maram folded her arms. "Then we will see the Sultan now, and sort this out. Next week is our wedding, and I want you alive."
Aladdin laughed. "I want you every bit as much as you want me, Princess. As you wish it, so must it be. To the Sultan's palace we go."
THIRTY-THREE
Sleepy servants showed Aladdin and Maram to an audience chamber, promising to tell the Sultan of their arrival. Time ticked by with no sign of the Sultan, as Maram dozed in Aladdin's arms and he found he didn't mind being kept waiting. No matter how many times Aladdin told himself he wasn't worthy of any princess, let alone Maram, the rightness of her body against his was undeniable. And the way her body had responded to him last night...she genuinely wanted him. Him, Aladdin the humble spinner's son, briefly the master of a lamp and its djinn, but now...now he was just a man in love, waiting to beg the Sultan to spare his life so that he might marry the man's favourite daughter.
The first rays of sunlight entered the audience chamber before the Sultan marched in, his brow furrowed with annoyance. "What kind of man wants to be beheaded before I break my fast? If you weren't going to be executed today anyway, I would think up a suitable punishment for waking your Sultan too early."
Aladdin's first instinct was to prostrate himself at the Sultan's feet, but that would mean waking Maram, so he did not move. Instead, he said softly, "I know of no man who wishes to lose his head before you break your fast, Your Majesty. But I did not dare sleep until I had reported to you, as I promised." He stroked Maram's hair. "The princess made no such promise, though, so perhaps we should let her rest."
The Sultan's eyes widened. "You brought her back? Is she hurt?"
"Not that I can tell, but she was kidnapped by a madman and held captive for weeks. There is no telling what he did to her."
"Where is the madman now?" the Sultan demanded.
"In the dining hall of my palace, unconscious. Your Majesty is welcome to him," Aladdin said.
The Sultan ordered two guards to bring Gwandoya back, then sat across from Aladdin and stared at him for a moment before he said, "For saving her, I would offer you her hand in marriage, if I had not already promised it to you."
Much though Aladdin would have liked to be the hero, he knew he didn't deserve the title. "She saved herself. She drugged her kidnapper's wine. The only reason she didn't do it earlier was because she did not think she could escape until I arrived. Your daughter is an amazing woman, and while I have no idea how I have managed to win her affection, I know I am the luckiest man alive."
"Indeed you are. She is everything a man could wish for, but will never attain." The Sultan sighed. "Just like her mother."
Aladdin longed to ask for the Sultan to say more, but as the silence stretched between them, he could not bring himself to do so.
"Your Majesty, the man you wanted."
The guards unceremoniously dumped Gwandoya on the floor.
"Wake him," the Sultan commanded grimly.
The guards tried shaking him, slapping him, then throwing a bucket of water over the man, but still Gwandoya did not wake. Then one of the guards bent over him and pressed a hand to Gwandoya's chest, over his heart. After a moment, the guard shook his head.
"He's gone, Your Majesty."
"What do you mean?" the Sultan asked.
"He's dead."
Maram stirred. "Serves him right for stealing my wine." She eyed Gwandoya's corpse. "Far too easy a death for the man who kidnapped me and killed Hasan. Throw his body into the gutter, to be devoured by stray dogs. It is no better than he deserves."
The Sultan sagged in relief at the sound of her voice. "Whatever you wish, Maram. We will postpone this wedding until you are well, and you shall have your apartments here so that my guards can keep you from further harm."
"No." Maram struggled to sit up, then aimed a glare at her father. "I will live in the palace my husband gave me, with him, and I will marry him on the morrow. Anyone who seeks to steal Aladdin from me again will suffer a worse fate than him." She pointed at Gwandoya.
The Sultan looked taken aback. Then, sl
owly, he said, "Whatever you wish."
THIRTY-FOUR
Maram had attended many feasts in her life, but she never wanted one to finish as much as her wedding feast. Courtiers gushing over her dress, fawning over Aladdin, or exclaiming over delicacies they had never tasted before barely registered in her thoughts, for all that occupied her mind was the man beside her.
Finally, the Sultan commanded the guests to form a triumphal arch for the departing couple, and she and Aladdin were allowed to leave. She ran beside him as though her feet had wings, through the arch and all the way home. Guards stood at the gates now, a gift from her father, but she had eyes for only one man. A man whose hand she held tight in her own as she led him to the best bedchamber, a room she had not entered until now.
An enormous bed occupied most of it, piled with enough pillows and coverlets to sleep a small harem, for it was a bed fit for a king. Fit for her pretend prince and her, certainly.
She paused only long enough to kiss Aladdin deeply before she started shedding her clothes, not stopping until the layers of silk and linen lay on the floor. She lifted her chin. "Now, you must make love to me," she said.
He laughed. "As my princess commands."
She shook her head. "I am not a princess any more. Not truly. I am your wife, and nothing more." She'd never felt so free.
Finally, he tugged his tunic over his head and left it with her clothes. "You are everything to me. A princess, a queen...a woman to worship. I would do anything for you, princess or no."
She smiled. "Then lie down."
Her eyes drank in every inch of his naked body as he stretched out on the bed, his head pillowed on his folded arms as he stared straight back at her. Her husband was no soft courtier, or over-muscled knight. No, he was lean and hard, with no extra flesh or muscle that a man did not need.
"I can't make love to you while I am here and you are over there," he said, beckoning. "Come here, my beautiful wife, so that I can show you just how much I love you."