Sultana Read Online Free Page B

fingers. “How do you know?”
    “People marry for alliances, land and treaties. Some women grow to love their husbands dearly, if they are lucky. This marriage has robbed you of that chance, for how can you love a man who shows no concern for you? Your grandfather wed you to your cousin, instead of one among my clan, to break his alliance with the Ashqilula. Your father bears the blood of an Ashqilula woman, as do you. Your descendants shall not. Your grandfather shall never allow anyone in his line to marry among the Ashqilula again. The men of my clan shall go to war with the Sultan. Your youth cannot protect you.”
    Fatima sobbed harder. “Father could!”
    “He cannot. Please trust and obey me in this. You are the dutiful child of your father. Yet, you are as much my child, as his. He may think he can protect you from any harm, but I cannot trust in his power, when danger surrounds you. No mother could allow her child to face this peril alone.”
    When Fatima lifted her head, Aisha knelt before her and took her face between her bejeweled hands.
    She smiled, though the corners of her eyes did not crinkle like those of Fatima’s father. “Look at the mess they made of your hair.” She smoothed the dark tresses. “My servants must have frightened you. I am sorry for that. Do I ask too much, daughter…I want to brush your hair, if you would allow it.”
    Fatima stared without blinking. She did not know what to say.
    Aisha crossed the room and reached into a satchel at the base of the wall below the window. She pulled out a brush. When she gestured for her, Fatima joined her on trembling legs and sank on the low stool.
    Aisha ran the bristles through the length of her hair. For a while, only the slow scrape of the brush disturbed the tranquility.
    Fatima drew her knees toward her chest and rested her chin in the valley between them. Her heart filled with new, unspoken feelings. Did she dare speak them?
    Then the motion of the brush stilled. Aisha rounded the stool and knelt at her feet. She cupped Fatima’s cheek. “You have the beauty of women in your father’s family, but remember this: all beauty fades with time. What shall never fade is the power of your mind. It is your greatest strength, especially in your relations with powerful men, like your grandfather and father. Perhaps, even your husband.”
    She set the brush on the low window sill. Fatima followed the gesture and then their gazes held. “Why are you telling me this?”
    Aisha smiled again, but it seemed sad. “Hush now, child, listen well. Understanding shall come. Even when you must do what others command, never forget the power of your own reasoning. One day, your husband may rule your body, he may even come to rule your heart, but your mind is and always must be your own, where none but you may rule. Promise me that you shall never forget these words.”
    Fatima swayed slightly. Her throat hurt, but she whispered, “I promise.”
    She returned Aisha’s intent stare, for the first time, unafraid. Aisha’s eyesglistened like gems in the lamplight.
    “This is the only measure of advice I can give you, Fatima. You must learn the ways of men, as I have. Do not trust in men alone. Love, be dutiful and respectful, but trust yourself and your instincts first. They shall always guide you rightly.”
    Fatima looked away, her throat tightening. She fought against it, but a tear fell, followed by another, each smoothed away with a gentle touch. She turned to Aisha again. Tears welled in her beautiful eyes, too.
    “I would see you safe, but also happy in life, daughter.”
    With a shudder, Fatima clasped the hand against her cheek in her smaller one. Aisha sighed and her smile widened, despite her tears.
    She started when the man returned, his face downcast. “It is time, sister.” He looked past her at Fatima.
    When Aisha rose, her hand slipped from Fatima’s grip. Fatima balled her fingers into a fist, stifling the urge to reach for her