The Stolen Kingdom: An Aladdin Retelling (The Stolen Kingdom Series Book 1)

by Bethany Atazadeh

  I fished out the smallest jewel, though it was likely still too much, approaching a vendor selling sausages with a butter-cheese on flatbread that made my mouth water.

  Setting my bag on the ground, I waited my turn to bargain. I’d never done this before. As I stood there, a blind woman sat begging only a few feet away, holding out her bowl to a passing stranger, but he only scoffed and continued on.

  Moved, I stepped out of line without thinking. Placing my hand gently over hers, I set the tiny jewel in her bowl. She frowned at the sound, picking it up and testing the feel of it. As her eyes grew round and awed at the edges of the jewel, I slipped back into the crowd, smiling at the way her face lit up. Her hopeful thoughts of the ‘nice stranger’ reached me as she made her way out of the square.

  Turning back to the vendor, I moved to pick up my bag.

  It was gone.

  For a moment, I could only stare at where it had been, trembling. “Where is my bag?” I demanded of the people in line. “Who took it?”

  They only scowled at me.

  “You!” I pointed to the man who stood where I had been, “Did you take it?” He shook his head, trying to ignore me, but I stepped closer to him, grabbing his arm, “Did you see who took it? Which direction did they go?”

  He shook me off, angry now. “How dare you? Where is your husband or father to stop this inappropriate behavior!”

  I backed away, glaring back at him. Only his thoughts of calling the city guards halted my retort.

  Instead, I scanned the area, searching for someone leaving, possibly in a hurry, carrying my bag. There! I pushed through the crowds, running after the brown bag in the distance, but as I got closer, I knew it wasn’t mine. Swiveling, my eyes skimmed over the nearby people, but there were just too many. It was a lost cause.

  How could I have lost everything in one moment?

  I stood there at the edge of the bazaar, breathing hard, searching for the thief without success. The little food I had left, my spare clothes, my jewels, and my crown. All gone.

  I sprinted back to where the blind woman had sat, shoving past people in my haste... but she was gone as well.

  “Excuse me,” I called to a passerby. He ignored me, striding on. Blinking, it took me a moment to remember: to them I wasn’t a princess. “Excuse me, please,” I spoke more firmly to a passing older woman. She slowed, but just barely. “Have you seen anyone with a brown bag?” I hurried to keep up with her as she strode down the street, but she didn’t answer. “Please,” I gritted my teeth and begged, “Someone stole my bag—it has all my belongings in it—have you seen any sign of someone running, maybe, or—”

  “No. Go bother someone else.”

  The ill treatment was jarring. When I stopped, she moved on without a backward glance.

  Standing in the dust of the marketplace, I stepped aside to let a group of people pass, then further back as the crowds jostled me, until I stood against a wall in the shade.

  My stomach growled as the smell of the sausages wafted toward me, emphasizing the enormity of what I’d lost. How could I have been so stupid?

  Stepping into the shadows of an alleyway, I tried to organize my thoughts, to plan, to think of something.

  I listened for thoughts from those around me, but for once, all I heard was a soft buzz.

  No one gave me a second glance. No one cared.

  It felt strange.

  Hugging my arms to myself, I pulled the cloak tighter around me, and despite the heat of the day, I shivered. For the first time, I was truly alone.

  That girl’s been lurking for an hour now, a foreign man’s thought startled me. She looks like she’s going to steal something. I think I’ll wave down the next guard to pick her up...

  I didn’t waste any time melting into the crowds, making my way to the opposite side of the bazaar. I eyed another vendor selling fresh, warm flatbread, beef, and yogurt. My stomach gurgled. I pressed a hand against it and tried to form a plan.

  Clearing my throat, I stepped up to the woman ladling yogurt and beef into the flatbread. “Tomatoes?” she asked her customer, “Cucumber?” They paid for their meal and left, and her dark brown eyes landed on me. “One?” she asked, already preparing to make another.

  “I’d like to,” I began and she picked up a second flatbread, opening the mouth of it to fill it up. “No, no,” I hurried to add, “I mean I’d like to, but I don’t have any coin, and was wondering if I could work for you in exchange for—”

  “You can’t pay?” she interrupted.

  I shook my head, lifting my chin higher. “I can work for it,” I repeated.

  “I don’t need any help.” She waved me away.

  My pride wouldn’t let me grovel. I passed her stall to one just a few carpets further, and tried again.

  The man there was even less interested in speaking with me. “Paying customers only,” he snapped. “Move along.”

  I forced myself to try once more at a fruit stand; anything that would fill my stomach.

  “Please, do you have any work?” I tried a different approach. “All I ask for payment is a meal.”

  All the wrinkles on her forehead deepened as she mulled it over. “What can you do?”

  “I can... ah...” My mind raced to find an appropriate answer. Run a kingdom? No. Address courtiers? Definitely not. Plan a banquet? “I’m a fast learner—”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you, young lady.” She was kind enough to pat my hand. “Maybe come back tomorrow. If sales are good...” she trailed off with a shrug.

  I nodded and moved on, wandering aimlessly. The sun was setting. Shopkeepers were beginning to tear down. There was no point in asking anyone else; their day was over. They were going home to a warm meal and soft bed. I, on the other hand, untrained, unqualified, and useless, would not be experiencing any of those things tonight.

  Chapter 7

  Arie

  I QUENCHED MY THIRST at the town well, telling myself I was full and ignoring the way my stomach rioted. I would try again tomorrow. The sunset turned orange, pink, and gold as it touched the edges of the rooftops.

  I needed to find a place to sleep before it grew dark. The thought of sleeping out in the open was hard to fathom. Pulling my hood up to avoid unwanted attention, I tried not to dwell on it for too long. I’ve made it this far...

  Dusk fell quickly. In the graying light, I nearly ran through the last few streets out of the city. No one gave me a second look. I entered the forest outside the city, eyes on the growing shadows around me, peering over my shoulder every few steps. I listened more carefully than I ever had in my entire life, making sure no one followed. The hum of nearby thoughts faded as I delved into the underbrush. I didn’t know where I was going or how far, but hoped it would come to me soon, because I could barely see.

  A nagging worry followed me. What if I can’t find my way back? Glancing around in the dim light, I noticed a small clearing with soft, tall grass that grew up to my waist. A promising hiding place.

  Wading through the grass at a snail’s pace for fear of snakes or other creatures hiding within, I stopped in the center, feeling the ground to make sure it was dry before bending the long grass into a makeshift bed. It offered a slight cushion. I wrapped myself in my cloak for warmth in the cold night air and lay down, using my arm as a pillow.

  The moon was still nearly full. Here, away from the light of the city, the stars glittered above me as the sky turned a deep black.

  The silence felt like a physical weight—like I’d lost my hearing. The irrational fear that this might actually be the case had me checking my surroundings every few minutes. But the soft buzz of cicadas slowly rose in the air and I finally realized what was missing. This far away from town, away from people, there wasn’t a single thought. A complete absence of my Gift. It was heavenly.

  A possibility crept into my mind that I’d considered before, but had never known how to act on.

  My Gift could be removed.

 
Before, in the castle, pursuing a Severance had never been an option. Admitting my Gift and submitting to trial meant revealing the truth to whoever was killing Gifted women. Even if I’d found a way to keep my abilities hidden as I looked into a Severance, I knew one thing for sure: only a Jinni could perform the rite. And a princess searching for a Jinni couldn’t be kept secret for long. Back home, it hadn’t mattered if I’d wanted a Severance or not; it wasn’t safe.

  But now... If I could find a Jinni, removing my Gift might finally be possible. I stared up at the night sky as the stars winked on, one at a time, soaking up the peaceful silence. This supposed ‘Gift’ had always been more of a curse. If it were truly possible to be free of it... it could save my life.

  INSTEAD OF WAKING RESTED, the emptiness gnawed at my insides like a tiny creature clawing at my ribs, pulling me out of sleep before it was even fully light out. Every part of my body ached. In the night, the dark silhouette of the trees shifting in the wind had made me jump more than once, and the noise of the cicadas, though comforting at first, had made it nearly impossible to sleep. I stood stiffly, glancing around the empty clearing as I stretched and yawned.

  Pulling my cloak back on, I set out the way I’d come. My feet were covered in blisters from all the walking yesterday. Before I even reached the outskirts of town, the smells of baked bread and stews cooking wafted to me on the wind. My stomach pinched me. Hard.

  One step in front of the other, eyes on the stone wall in front of me, I pushed on, entering the town. The soft buzz of nearby thoughts settled over me again as if they’d never left.

  I paused in the quiet alleyway, before going further. Closing my eyes, I tried to remember the maps in my father’s throne room. If I went to the castle, would they recognize me without my crown? Or worse, what if King Amir’s guards were still here searching and they dragged me back home?

  In the growing heat, feeling thirsty, hungry, and discouraged, I struggled with indecision. Should I take risk going to the castle just for a meal or keep trying to find work?

  “You just gonna stand there with your eyes closed?” a male voice asked. I jerked, eyes flying open to find a tall, well-dressed young man around my age leaning against a green door on the stairs above. He was chewing on soft, fresh flatbread, and his dark hair fell across his face as he smirked at me. My mouth watered, but my heart pounded. I hadn’t meant to draw any attention.

  Drawing myself up to my full height, I hid my discomfort that he was a half-head taller and only a few feet away, looking him up and down. Taking time before speaking was a common intimidation tactic in the courts. I’d learned it the same year I’d learned my letters.

  But to be honest, I was at a loss for words.

  How had he managed to startle me? If he was looking right at me, clearly thinking about me, shouldn’t I have heard his thoughts?

  You take your sweet time. There, finally. His first thought.

  “You take your sweet time,” he said on the heels of the thought, matching it, down to the exact words. They blended together.

  Speechless, I frowned at him, concentrating. My Gift had never done this before. Thoughts never lined up this smoothly.

  Pretty, but strange, he thought. And then shocked me by saying, “You’re pretty, but strange.”

  My lips parted. Who said exactly what they were thinking? I studied him. He shrugged, mistaking my silence for a dismissal and turned to go.

  “Wait!” I found my voice and called out. He turned back, golden-brown eyes studying me as he took another bite of bread. I had no clue what to say. There were no leering thoughts underneath his words, no twists of phrase, no secret dismissals or disrespect... well, nothing that he kept hidden anyway.

  “I’m, I just—” I stumbled over my words. Frustrated to be caught looking like a fool, I lifted my chin, straightened my hood, and cleared my throat. “I was just wondering where you bought the bread.” I swallowed the drool that formed when I said the word.

  He paused, holding the last bite in front of his open mouth, pulling it back slowly. She’s hungry.

  “I’m not looking for handouts,” I said, before he could verbalize that last one. My pride wouldn’t let me take some stranger’s leftovers. I’d figure something out. “I just need directions. I’m... new in town.”

  “You sure are,” his thoughts and words overlapped, and that smirk returned. Pointing over his shoulder, he shrugged. “The market’s that way. Can’t miss it.”

  Though I already knew where the market was, I thanked him and moved down the street, trying to keep a steady, non-desperate pace for appearance’s sake.

  I like her.

  I paused mid-step at his thought. Turning to face him, I stared up into those eyes and spoke without considering my words. “What was that?” His brows rose at the blunt question. He hadn’t actually said anything.

  “I just—I thought I heard something...” I faltered. The seamless blend of his words and thoughts had thrown me off kilter; the last straw in my tired, confused mind. I just needed to hear him lie once so I could move on.

  Squinting at me, he didn’t answer right away. After he finished chewing, he shrugged. “I was thinking... you’re a little odd.” Ha! First lie. I nodded to myself, turning away, when he added, “And I like it.”

  Again, I paused. Looking over my shoulder at him, I croaked out, “You... like it?”

  “Sure,” he shrugged again. “It. You. Stop making such a big deal out of it,” he said as my brows rose in shock. “Go get your bread.” And he walked off without a goodbye or another word.

  I blinked at his back.

  Turning toward the market, I tried to forget him, but I’d never met someone so honest. It took away the advantage I’d grown so used to.

  As I entered the market, I wiped the frown from my face, shaking off the irritation. No need to worry about it anymore. I’d never see him again. Focus on getting something to eat. The smell of freshly baked bread, spices, and roasting meat flooded my senses, making me clench my fists until little crescent nail marks were indented in my skin.

  I made my way through a new section of the bazaar, feeling too intimidated to try asking for work just yet, staring at the different spreads. Little tent awnings stretched out from the buildings on one side of the street, shading the tables underneath, full of all different wares, including food, food, and more food.

  My stomach ached with a hollowness I’d never experienced before. I felt briefly murderous. All my high morals flew out the window when I saw a table left unattended.

  I could spend the day asking for work again, only to be very likely turned away with yet another round of laughs. Or...

  No. I shook my head, walking past the open booth and on down the street. Stealing was the very reason I didn’t have coin to buy food in the first place.

  In the doorway of the shop ahead, a young woman stood sweeping dirt and debris out onto the street. “Pardon me,” I called, walking around a cart in the street to approach her, “Do you have any work for the day?” I began.

  “No,” she snapped.

  “Please,” I continued, humbling myself to beg. I had no other choice. “I could sweep for you, or–”

  Without a word in reply, the woman turned to go inside and slammed the door in my face. Trying to steal my job, she thought as she did. And she was filthy too. I flinched. Had sleeping in the field left me looking that poorly after one night? I ran my hand through my hair, trying to straighten it. A piece of the sweet-smelling yellow grass fell to the ground.

  The shopkeeper at the booth next to me saw me turn toward him, and before I could even open my mouth to ask, he shook his head in silent rejection.

  A man with a thin mustache and hair slicked over in an effort to hide his balding head, stepped up next to me, sliding his hand down my arm. I jumped. He whispered in a deep voice, “I know where someone as beautiful as you could have work in minutes.” His face was just inches from mine.

  I stepped back even as he spoke, y
anking my arm away. The sudden urge to call for help hit me, but who would come? I called on all my courtly training, standing tall and strong, and glared at him. “How dare you,” I demanded in a loud tone. “Leave me at once!”

  But my anger hardly affected him at all.

  He had the audacity to step closer, still whispering, “Down the street, two blocks, ask for Elam if you change your mind.” He snaked a hand out toward me as if to stroke my arm yet again. I lurched out of reach with a shudder of disgust.

  As he skulked off, I felt more frustrated than ever. His offer was quite clear. Between that and stealing a loaf of bread, I knew which I would choose in a heartbeat.

  Before I could think too hard on it, my feet turned back toward the unmanned booth. Not knowing how much time I had before the owner returned, I picked up my pace. Hurrying toward it in a mix between a casual walk and a desperate jog, I pulled my hood up, trying to blend in.

  The table was still unguarded.

  It wasn’t ideal. The sun was shining. The streets were filled with booths and shopkeepers and crowds, all of whom might see my next move. But I was no longer thinking straight or strategizing much further beyond: get bread, eat bread.

  I glided past the table, reaching out a hand.

  One warm loaf in my grasp, I curled it in toward me. That was smooth, someone’s thought rose above the wordless hum, and I froze. Someone was thinking about me. Someone had seen.

  Chapter 8

  Arie

  THE VOICE WAS FAMILIAR. I glanced behind me in the direction it had come from, but in that split second of indecision, another man stepped out in front of me. I hadn’t seen him underneath the awning. His eyes landed on me. Dropped to my hand. I slipped the soft bread beneath my cloak, but it was too late.

  “Thief!” the shopkeeper screeched, pointing his stubby finger at me. “Stop her!”