by Aisha Saeed
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Zeena said. “I only smiled because I believe I can help.”
She went to the boat and returned with a sack, drawing from it a packet of seeds—green and so tiny that one had to squint to truly get the measure of them. The townspeople followed her as she sprinkled them over a field of pomegranate trees. She did the same at the next parcel of land, continuing until she had scattered the green seeds on every plot of vegetation.
“What are you doing?” asked a child looking on as she spread the last of them. But before she could reply, the villagers startled, for they could have sworn the trees and plants stood straighter than before.
“The disease on our crops isn’t unique to Saravania,” Zeena explained. “Many other lands have this same affliction. These seeds were discovered to reverse the disease and restore the leaves, stems, and roots to health. And speaking of health”—Zeena turned to the people—“I learned that there are many things on our own island kingdom that contain powers we did not know.”
She showed them how the leaves of the Maza trees that bloomed with pink and yellow flowers around the island, once ground into water, could reduce any fever in seconds. She plucked the roots of the Sigma berry and explained how, when boiled, they could cure any headache.
“There’s more as well,” Zeena promised. “But these will help us to begin to heal what is broken on Saravania.”
“So, the other kingdoms. It isn’t frightening out there?” her younger sister asked her.
“It can be,” Zeena told her. “I have met some awful people during my travels. There was one land where a rich man burned nearly half his kingdom for greed, but there were many more good people—people we have a lot to learn from.”
As the days passed, the crops began to heal. Within weeks the grapevines and the trees of figs, dates, and olives bloomed again, more plentiful than ever. The illnesses, too, began to abate.
“You saved our kingdom,” Zeena’s mother said. “You were brave and intuitive enough to know we needed to look beyond our borders. I was too shortsighted to see. It is you, my child, who should be queen.” The sultana moved to remove her crown, but Zeena interceded.
“I do not wish to be sultana,” Zeena told her mother gently. “Saravania is lucky to have you. I simply wish to continue my work. The world should know how we live; our beautiful artwork deserves wider recognition, and we can learn so much from others.”
From that day forward, with the queen’s blessings, upon a newly built ship and with a small crew, Zeena continued her journeys. She traveled to nearly every kingdom, touched upon every continent, and returned home every few months to share her knowledge and the partnerships she had built and to collect more works from the gifted artisans of the island to sell in the lands beyond. And from then on, the kingdom of Saravania was no longer hidden from the world, but a part of it.
“WE’RE HEADING OUT for a walk around the main city center of Ababwa,” Ali told Omar when they walked back into the foyer.
“Shall I call for the carriage?” Omar asked as the magic carpet zipped over to them.
“No carriage ride. I’d love to walk,” Jasmine said. “It’s the best way to take in the sights, I think.”
The carpet drooped at this.
“Oh, did you want to take us around? Sorry,” she told the carpet gently. “It’s just that we wanted to pop into shops and look around a bit. It’ll be easier on foot, I think.”
“Why don’t you stay here and relax?” Ali said. “We’ll be back soon enough.”
The magic carpet flew over to the foot of the sofa and stretched out on the floor.
Together, Ali and Jasmine stepped out through the palace doors. The guards, standing at attention in their navy and silver regalia, saluted them as they approached and wordlessly parted the wrought iron gates. Turning down the street, Jasmine glanced back at the palace walls. “Is this okay? Us just walking out and about, without any guards for protection?”
“Oh, yeah, guards…” Ali glanced back. “Ababwa is safe. We’ll be okay.”
While the palace was a gaudy display of wealth, there was no denying the charm that bounced off the walls in the streets of Ababwa. And the way the sun hung low in the sky right now and hit the cobblestoned roads, it felt as though the entire town were coated in a marvelous, glittering sheen. Thanks to the sloping terrain of Ababwa, Jasmine could see beyond the roads to the grassy gardens and trees behind them, as well as the curved cliffs in the distance.
“Are those steps carved into the cliff?” Jasmine squinted.
“Maybe.” Ali peered with a hand over his eyes. “I think so. Yes.”
“Never been?”
He shook his head. “It’s not the biggest kingdom, but there are still parts I haven’t explored yet.”
The homes they passed now were modest ones but well-kept, with brilliant red, orange, and patterned curtains covering windows. Some were thrown open to the fresh air, curtains swaying in the breeze.
“It’s quiet out here,” Jasmine observed. “After seeing all the people lined up to greet us when we first arrived, I expected things to be much busier.”
“They’ll probably be out and about in the town square this time of day,” he told her. “It should be just a little further up.”
“Is that where the huge fountain was?” she asked. “I think I saw people carrying buckets to it.”
“Yes.” He smiled. His eyes lit up at this.
“They can get water at any time without charge?”
“I think it’s important for people to be able to have water to provide for themselves and their families. Water is something no one should have to worry about.”
“We should do that in Agrabah,” Jasmine said. “I think that—”
Suddenly, Ali’s hand shot up in front of her.
“What’s the matter?” She looked up at him—his expression was tense, his body taut like a coiled spring.
“The noise.” Ali glanced about. “You didn’t hear it?”
“No.” She craned her neck and turned to look around. “I don’t see a soul.”
“Sorry,” he said, but he remained alert, standing still. “I just…I thought I saw something. Heard someone…”
“What sort of noise did you hear?”
“Nothing.” He slowly relaxed. “It was nothing. Just in my head, I guess.”
Jasmine looked at him curiously for a moment before they continued on.
That was close, the man thought. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped away the sweat on his brow from where he stood huddled in the narrow brick alleyway. He’d only taken a few steps toward them before he’d kicked that pebble against the cobblestoned road, inadvertently drawing attention to himself.
The boy is quick. No doubt about it, thought the man. But the boy did not notice the man now as he stepped out of the alleyway and watched their dwindling figures. The man narrowed his eyes. He glanced back at the palace in the distance, calculating his next move.
Shops began to crop up on either side of Jasmine and Ali as the pair walked toward the town square. It certainly was a different experience to stroll the streets of Ababwa on foot as compared to watching it all pass by from a carriage. As Ali had predicted, the streets grew noisier now with people hurrying in and out of shops. Some carried sacks with loaves of bread poking out from the tops, while others held the hands of small children firmly in their own.
Jasmine was surprised people weren’t mobbing them. They had been so excited to see them when they first arrived. But it also made sense. If you treated people with dignity and respect—and if you gave them forums to freely approach and discuss their issues so they felt heard and understood—they would treat you with respect as well.
“You’re fast on your feet, aren’t you?” Jasmine said as they walked.
“What do you mean?”
“Just back then, earlier, when we were walking over here, you were so relaxed and comfortable one minute, and then you changed in an instant, l
iterally on your toes, ready to do whatever it was you thought you needed to do.”
“Yeah,” Ali said. “I guess all that princely training over the years helped with my athletic abilities.”
But it wasn’t just athletic abilities, Jasmine thought. Ali had a particular instinct. A kind of street smart she never had expected to find in a royal prince.
“Oh!” Ali smacked his forehead with his hand. “I almost forgot!”
“What?”
“A place I need to show you. It’s probably by the town square.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You sure love surprises.” She rolled her eyes.
“I love them just as much as you hate them.” He laughed. “But you have to admit that the last one was worth the wait, wasn’t it?”
Well, she thought with a smile, that is indeed true.
Jasmine looked around and wondered where he was taking her. With the interesting topography of this kingdom, there were probably untold hidden lagoons and romantic overlooks. Ali stopped at a nondescript storefront and poked his head in.
“Yep.” He nodded. “This is the place. We’re here!”
“Here?” Jasmine looked at the creaky door.
Well, Ali was right. She was surprised.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust once she had stepped into the modest shop lit by lanterns hanging from the rafters.
“Welcome,” said a man with round metal spectacles. He approached them with a broad smile. He was bald and had a gray mustache. “My name is Ahmed. Please make yourself at home and feel free to look around at anything you’d like.”
And that’s when Jasmine’s eyes adjusted enough to understand where they were. This was a cartography shop. She spun around and saw that all four walls were lined with beautiful, intricate maps. Some were painted vibrant colors—works of art in their own right—while others showed practical gray outlines of countries, cities, and continents. There were black-and-white maps outlining local boundaries. And world maps. There were crisp new ones folded in rectangles on the table before them and old ones in opened wooden drawers, their edges worn and frayed like those of the maps she had back home. A set of globes rested on a bookshelf on the other end of the wall.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a shop dedicated exclusively to maps like this before.”
“We have books, too, if those interest you at all.” Ahmed pointed to a section of small bookshelves against the far wall. Their spines indicated the history of the world, the oceans beneath their feet, and the sky above.
Jasmine walked over to an array of maps spread across a large table. One was titled The Greatest Kingdoms on Earth. Another one mapped out the countries with the most exotic animals. Her eyes landed then on a map with a faded legend. She glanced at the shop owner. “Sir, I was wondering if I could look at this one. It looks old, so I understand if it’s best I don’t.”
“Oh, please, call me Ahmed. And yes, of course, Princess. You’re welcome to browse anything you’d like.”
Jasmine lost herself among the shelves and tables of maps. She pored over the different legends, the tiny details of mountain ranges and paths of rivers and lakes. How different so many were from the ones she had at home! She had presumed the maps she had collected over the years were the only standard type, but there appeared now to be all sorts of ways to record the same information. There was even an entire book on the art of cartography. She could easily have stayed in this shop all day. She trailed her hands over an ancient map and saw how the borders of the world had changed and flowed over the years.
“Good surprise?” Ali asked. She looked at his boyish smile—the look of nervousness that had suddenly returned.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said, looking around. “It’s as if this store was made especially for me. It’s…it’s perfect.”
“I’m so glad you like it.”
She looked up at Ali. In just the short time they’d known each other, he knew the perfect place to take her. He understood her in a way no one else in her life did.
Jasmine reached up and hugged him. She saw his look of surprise when she leaned toward him and felt the way he melted into her embrace. She pulled back and met his gaze. His eyes were on hers; he was so close to her. His breath was sweet and warm. Were it not for Ahmed, politely busying himself not far from them and pretending not to notice, she would have kissed him right then and there.
“I don’t know if anyone has ever done anything this thoughtful for me before,” she said shyly. “Thank you for this. For bringing me here.”
“My pleasure, Princess,” Ali said, gazing intently at her.
The sun hung lower in the sky when they at last stepped out into the town square. Jasmine looked around at the stalls lining the square courtyard; they were not unlike the ones they had back home in Agrabah. A woman sold jewelry in one stall. Another had scarves in red, green, and pink, tied to the stall and flowing in the breeze. A leather maker showed off woven belts and wallets, and another seller displayed wood-carved flutes and walking sticks.
“This looks interesting,” Ali remarked as he approached a table with a medley of things from pens to candles to dress purses.
Jasmine picked up a tiny coin purse but frowned when her hands ran over it.
“Is this…” She picked it up and examined it closely. “Is this a cookie?”
“It is, Princess.” The vendor, a woman with glasses on the ridge of her nose, beamed proudly. “Designed all of these creations from flour, sugar, and a little butter right in my kitchen. With a little baking magic, I can make just about any sweet look like anything else. I do custom orders as well. Please try one!”
Jasmine watched as Ali decided which one to taste. She took in his dimple. The way his hair fluttered in the gentle breeze. It was uncanny how much he reminded her of the boy she had met at the marketplace. Maybe he had family in Agrabah? Jasmine wondered. She was about to ask him about this when a woman’s voice called out to them.
“Princess Jasmine! Prince Ali!”
Zaria, the beekeeper, approached them. Her gilded cage of bees hung from her arm, but instead of the tense expression she’d worn earlier, she was smiling.
“Just came back from Maha’s home,” the woman told them. “She drew up a few sketches, and I think the awning really will resemble the canopy they miss! At least real enough to do for now. We’re going to test a few out tonight to see if the bees will accept it. And if the bees can make honey, we’ll give some to the boy. He’s older now. It may work.”
“That’s excellent news!” Ali said.
“I hope this will put your worries at ease,” Jasmine said.
“I’m the last in the line for this trade. Broke my heart when I thought it would all end with me.”
They talked for a bit longer before Zaria walked away. Now that she’d actually helped people and seen the effect her advice could have, Jasmine didn’t know how she could bear to go back to Agrabah and be once again a girl in a gilded cage, not unlike the bees Zaria swung from her arm.
She glanced over at Ali, who was chatting with the dessert vendor. How easily he had invited her to sit with him at the advisory council. How completely he trusted her and turned to her for advice. How thoughtful he was to take her to the map shop. The menagerie.
Until this trip to Ababwa, the prospect of spending her life with another person had seemed as abhorrent as dipping her hand in a hornet’s nest. Marriage was on her father’s agenda, not hers. She thought of how Ali had joked about their staying here forever. And though she didn’t yet know if she wanted to marry Prince Ali, the idea of living here with someone who shared her sense of adventure, who was funny and kind, and who treated her as an equal—and of actually making a difference in a kingdom rather than simply dreaming about it from her living quarters—sounded more and more enticing with each passing moment.
Something tugged at her hands just then
.
Looking down, she saw an empty palm; the coin-purse cookie was gone.
A little boy raced off toward the other side of the town square.
“Hey!” shouted the vendor, her cheeks flushed pink with anger. Instantly, half the townspeople in the square gave chase after the boy.
“Stop!” Jasmine shouted at them, but she was drowned out by the sounds of the angry pursuers.
Jasmine and Ali took off, rushing to keep up with the others until at last everyone came to a halt. Slipping through the crowd, they reached the front and saw the boy cornered against a brick storefront wall. He was younger than she’d first thought. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old. His dark hair stuck out awkwardly at all different angles, and his clothes were at least two sizes too small and worn at the knees and elbows. His green eyes looked at the crowd with fear. The cookie was clenched in his hand, bits of it crumbling to the ground.
“Now you’ve really done it,” a man said, glowering.
“You steal from us all the time, but stealing from a princess?” shouted another.
“Princess?” The boy’s eyes widened. The cookie fell to the ground; his hands went limp at his sides. “I’m s-s-sorry,” the boy stuttered. “I d-d-didn’t know.”
“It’s only a cookie,” Jasmine said gently.
“Yes, but he didn’t know that!” said the man at the front of the crowd. His face was beet red. “Thought it was an actual coin purse, didn’t you?” He sneered. The boy blushed and the man barked out a laugh. “That’s what I figured. Now the prince will find a punishment suitable for the likes of you once and for all.”
“Wait!” Ali squeezed through the crowd and hurried over to the boy.
“He’s just a child.” Zaria turned to Ali. “Please have mercy on him, Your Majesty.”
“What does his being young have to do with this?” the man asked. “Sneaks food out of my shop nearly every day of the week!”
“Took the bread I had left out to cool just this morning,” added a baker with a nod.
The voices shouted over one another, blending into a cacophonous roar of accusations.