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And so, in their fear, Shahrazad and Shahrayar increased their own danger, though they did not do so knowingly. For, each in his or her own way, both looked in the wrong direction: not inward, but outward.
In the moment when they most needed to recall it, both forgot the first queen's prophecy.
Only by knowing what was in their hearts and being unafraid to have it known could all be made right once more. And so the final chapters in the story, which they were weaving together themselves, came to be set in motion.
When Shahrayar entered his quarters and saw Shahrazad standing before the window, he felt himself struck by so many different emotions that he could do nothing but stand and behold her.
What is she thinking? he wondered. Did she know of the rumors that filled the land? The ones that proclaimed her a sorceress and called for her death? If she did, would she even tell him?
For it came to Shahrayar suddenly as he gazed upon his wife that she was still almost completely a mystery to him in spite of the way her voice had found a home inside him. Her voice, yes. That he thought he knew. But her mind, her heart, those things were still unknown and were as deep and fathomless as any well. And just as vital to his life as water, or so Shahrayar was coming to suspect.
What does Shahrazad truly contain? he wondered. Was she pure, as he had originally perceived her to be? Or was she tainted, as the rumors now insisted she must be? For in this uncertainty, more than anything else, did Shahrayar's fear distract and blind him. And so he turned to the wrong place to find the answers to his questions: not to his own heart, or even to their hearts together, but to Shahrazad's heart alone.
If only she would reveal herself to me, all would be well, he thought, never stopping to remember that to reveal one's heart alone is a difficult thing, perhaps the most difficult thing of all.
So, though he had come to his quarters with some vague notion of telling her what he had learned so he could weigh her reaction to it, when Shahrayar opened his mouth to speak, no word of the rumors came out. Instead he said, "What do you see when you gaze out the window, Shahrazad?"
At the sound of her husband's voice, a ripple passed through Shahrazad. For the first time since they had been wed, she had not sensed his presence the moment he entered the room, so far away from the place her body was had she traveled in her thoughts. Her journey had not been a pleasant one. Never had she felt so blind.
“I do not see," she said. "Instead I. . . wonder."
"What do you wonder?" asked Shahrayar.
Shahrazad was silent for a moment, as if framing her reply. "Whether the great world outside is as I remember it," she said at last. "I have not been outside the palace since I was a child."
At this, it seemed to Shahrayar that his fear and confusion vanished, and he saw his way clear once more.
"Come with me," he said on impulse, and he moved to Shahrazad's side and took her by the hand. "Let us go out together."
At his words, Shahrazad felt her heart give a great leap, even as her words faltered. "But. . . the people
—"
Ah! Shahrayar thought. So she knows. But it mattered less than he had thought it did.
"Let us not worry about them," he said. "Just for a little while. I am tired of seeing you only in the lamplight. Come with me into the sunlight, Shahrazad."
And Shahrazad answered steadily, though Shahrayar could feel the way her fingers trembled in his.
"I would like to feel the sun upon my face with you beside me."
Shahrayar raised her hand, pressed his lips against her palm and felt the way her trembling spread throughout her body.
"Come, then. Let us go."
C h a p t e r 1 5
A S U N L I G H T S T O R Y
And so Shahrayar and Shahrazad left the palace. They took no retainers, wore no fine robes. They did not even pause to tell the vizier that they were going. Indeed, Shahrayar sent the vizier on an errand that would keep him busy until after nightfall. In this way, he hoped he and Shahrazad might leave the palace and return again with no one the wiser. He did not intend deception in this, merely to travel as another man might. For this one day, if no day else, to leave the cares of government behind him.
So he wrapped Shahrazad in a cloak from head to foot, lifted her upon his horse, then vaulted up behind her. She leaned back against his body. Shahrayar stretched his arms around on either side of her to hold the reins. Both remained silent. In this way, they passed through the least impressive of the palace gates and, at length, through the gates of Shahrayar's city itself and out into the desert beyond. Unremarked upon, unheralded, u
"Where are you taking me?" Shahrazad inquired.
Shahrayar laughed suddenly, surprising them both.
"I am not going to tell you. Let the tale of this journey be as much a mystery to you as the tales you spin are to me."
"As the king commands," answered Shahrazad, her tone as light as his own. "Meantime, with your permission, I will enjoy the wind in my hair."
"Gladly," said Shahrayar.
So Shahrazad shook back her cloak and Shahrayar spurred the horse forward till they flew along the sand, Shahrazad's long, dark hair like ba
After some time, she heard him speak to the horse, and the pace of their travel slowed, then came to a halt, and her hair settled down around her shoulders.
"This is the place," Shahrayar said.
Shahrazad took a deep breath. "Do I smell water?"
Shahrayar smiled as he slid from the horse, then lifted her down. Though she was steady on her feet, he kept one arm about her shoulders, for he had suddenly discovered how empty his arms could feel without her inside them.
"You do," he replied. Gently, he began to lead her across the sand to where a stand of date palms created a small oasis of shade. "My father brought me here when I was but a boy. I should always know how to find water in the desert, he said. So that when I grew to be king, I might never forget its importance to my subjects,"
"Your father was wise. My father always told me I should never take anything essential for granted lest I lose it, but now I see it is probably because yours said it first."
Shahrayar chuckled. They settled beneath the trees, Shahrazad with her back against one great trunk.
Shahrayar stretched out and laid his head in her lap.
I am free, he thought. Though he had not known he had felt confined until this moment. He looked up at Shahrazad, who was sitting with her face tipped up to the sun.
"Shahrazad, will you tell me something:1"
She did not reply, but merely nodded.
Do you fear to lose me? Have I become so essential to you that you will treasure me always and never take me for granted?
The words quivered upon his tongue, welled straight up from his heart with a heat that left Shahrayar shaking as if he had a fever. But at the last moment, he found he could not pronounce them.
What did it matter if he thought he suddenly saw and understood his own heart? He still could neither see nor understand Shahrazad's. And in what he could not see lay pain and danger, or so he thought. And so he did not ask the questions that were in his heart. Never stopping to think that in refusing, he kept his own heart as much a secret to Shahrazad as hers was to him. And so both stayed locked up tight, the hopes and needs in them unspoken.