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Shekib had felt a little embarrassed. “It wasn’t the frogs, it was mostly the soldiers… they are loud but I couldn’t see them. I just thought…”

“Don’t worry about it. The next night will be easier on you. You’ll grow accustomed to the sounds of the palace at night. You might even enjoy it more than the days.”

Ghafoor was right, although Shekib kept that revelation to herself. Over the next few months, she grew content to sit in the dark, the dim light from the king’s main residence and a few oil lanterns casting enough of a glow to make a game of shadows. Shekib smiled when some resembled animals, laughed when one took the shape of her grandmother.

Tariq joined her on those nights when she could not sleep. She had been in the king’s presence more than a few times and he hardly glanced at her. She was losing hope for being that rose that is plucked from the garden, as she had put it. She fretted, bit her nails and creased her forehead but Shekib did not mind her company.

“Ghafoor is snoring again.”

Shekib nodded.

“It’s like sleeping next to a congested horse. I can’t take it. I don’t know how the others ignore it.”

“She’ll deny it in the morning.”

Tariq smiled. “Anything happening in the palace?”

“No, not so far.” It was quiet in the gardens, but the palace was unpredictable. People came and went at odd hours sometimes. And from time to time, King Habibullah hungered for a concubine in the darkest hour.

The guards were silent. Tariq sighed. Something was on her mind.

“Are you happy here?” she asked.

“Happy? What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you happy? Are you satisfied with this?”

“I’ve seen worse.”

“You don’t miss your family?”

“I miss them as much as they miss me.”

Tariq did not know how to interpret Shekib’s response. She understood from her tone that she would not elaborate. She pulled at her bangs, tried to make them reach her eyebrows.

“But how much longer do you think we will be here?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wonder sometimes.”

“About what?”

“I wonder what the palace will do with us. How long will they keep us here? I want to be married. I want to have children and a home. I want to live somewhere else, don’t you?”

Tariq, dressed as a man, was a woman after all. Her voice was nearly cracking. Shekib understood better than she let on. She had to protect her own plan.

“I don’t know. We have a comfortable life here.”

Tariq sighed heavily. “It’s comfortable, but this can’t be it. I’m not like Ghafoor. Or even Karim. I don’t want to wear pants for the rest of my life. I was happy as a girl.”

Tariq’s laments were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming shut. The guards froze and looked for the source of the noise. They focused their eyes in the dark, trying to locate the footsteps.

“Where was—”

“Shhh!” Shekib hissed.

A shadow scurried away from the harem’s side door. The figure was running back into the palace.

“Do you think it’s the king?”

Shekib did not. King Habibullah never left from the side door. And he had no need to sneak past the guards either.

“Who goes there?” she called out. She wrapped her fingers around her baton.

The figure scurried faster, passing under the yellow glow of a lantern. From the breadth of the shoulders and the shape of the pants, they could see it was a man. A man in the harem?

“This is bizarre. Stay here. I’m going to check on things inside,” Shekib said.

But the harem was peaceful. Shekib could hear the light snores. The man had come from somewhere though. She waited, cocked her ear for any movements. She tiptoed through the hallway slowly. Carefully.

When she had crossed through the bath and checked the hallway on the opposite side, she retraced her steps. Something stirred by the foyer. She focused her eyes in the dark as the figure turned toward her.

“Did you find anything?”

It was Tariq.

Shekib sighed and shook her head. They stepped back into the night air and looked into the courtyard, across the gardens, to the palace. Nothing moved. Shekib wondered who it could have been. Someone had paid a visit to one of the king’s concubines. Who could be so bold as to trespass here? And which woman had allowed him into her chambers?

Shekib and Tariq sat in silence, chewing over the same thought. If the palace were to find out, the guards would be held responsible.

CHAPTER 33. SHEKIB

Shekib and Tariq entered their sleeping quarters when daylight broke. They had neither seen nor heard anything else throughout the night. The soldiers were walking about now and the servants looked hurried. The king was likely expecting a visitor.

Ghafoor was awake, her arms stretched over her head as she yawned. The others rubbed their eyes.

“Tariq? You’re up already? Did you not sleep last night?” Ghafoor asked, puzzled.

“Something happened last night,” Shekib said softly. “Something you all need to know about.”

Her words, rare as they were, got everyone’s attention.

“We saw someone leaving the harem through the side door, which should have been locked. It looked like a man. He ran off toward the palace but in the dark we couldn’t make out his face.”

“It must have been the king. You know his urges come at odd hours.”

Tariq shook her head. “It wasn’t the king, trust me. I know his shape. This man was leaner, taller. And the king doesn’t sneak in and out of the side door. He comes and goes as he pleases, even when the hour is late. This was someone else.”

Ghafoor and Karim leaned forward; they were just now making the realization that Shekib and Tariq had made last night. Qasim looked at her sister’s concerned face.

“Did you hear anything inside? Was anyone awake?” Karim asked.

“Nothing. I walked through the hallways and heard nothing at all, saw no one. Whoever it was that let him in was not making a sound,” Shekib said, her tone flat and serious.

“Of course not,” Ghafoor said. “But if this has happened once, then it has probably happened twice and three times and more. We have a serious problem on our hands, guards. If the king learns that someone has been sneaking past us and paying secret visits to his private harem, we can start saying our final prayers.”

“Should we tell someone in the palace?” Qasim asked nervously. “No, absolutely not!” Ghafoor cried. “We have to find out what we can on our own and stop this from exploding on us.”

Karim and Tariq nodded in agreement. Shekib stood in silence. Ghafoor was taking charge now.

“First of all, we need to speak with the concubines, privately, one at a time, and see if anyone can give us any information.”

“You think whoever brought him in is going to tell us?” Qasim asked.

“No, she won’t tell us anything, I’m sure. But if this has been happening, someone must have heard something and I’m sure that someone else will be willing to talk about it. You know how these women are with each other. They can’t wait for a chance to rip the others to shreds.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t already heard about this,” Tariq said.

“This was bound to happen. It was just a matter of time. There are just too many women in one house. One of them was going to invite trouble.” Ghafoor spoke confidently, as if she had predicted this months ago.

Shekib and Tariq lay down to get some rest. The others assumed their posts, rotating to cover Tariq’s position as well so that she could close her reddened eyes for a few hours. The situation had given Ghafoor new energy. Her face was serious and her tone urgent. She gave orders as if she were a palace general commanding her soldiers.