Bonds of passion

Episode 3

The soft light and delicate aroma of essential oils enveloped me as Qin Yuan, a woman with kind eyes and confident movements, invited me to lie down on the massage table. Her hands felt skilled and experienced, pressing into my tense muscles, dissolving anxiety and fatigue.

I tried to relax, but thoughts of escape never left me. Qin Yuan seemed to understand without words. Her touch was soothing, yet I sensed a hidden purpose behind it. At some point, she leaned towards me and whispered, “Trust me.” I froze in fascination as a small metal plate appeared in my palm.

Swallowing hard, I continued chatting about the menagerie, about ligers and tigers, about how they resembled the girls in the harem. Anything to create the illusion of frivolity and distraction. A plan formed in my mind. The key was the first step to freedom. All that remained was to wait for the right moment to use this opportunity.

That night I was on the verge of despair, nerves stretched taut in anticipation. The sheikh returned unexpectedly, and his arrival agitated the entire palace, disrupting the calm routine and plunging everything into chaos in preparation for the evening social event.

As always, without knocking or invitation, Leila burst in, radiant with joy and impatience. Her exotic beauty, inherited from Latin American and Indian ancestors, shone with a special light.

— Tonight! — she exclaimed triumphantly, settling herself regally on my bed. — Imagine me like a queen trying on her crown for the first time. I’m so excited!

I winced at her words, images of Cinderella and her glass slipper flashing through my mind. It seemed that the truth always lay somewhere in between — between head and foot, where Leila was about to try on something royal, not necessarily the right size.

With a heavy sigh, I tried to suppress the growing irritation, convincing myself that I didn’t care. Tonight I was supposed to escape. What did this news have to do with me? I couldn’t show my true feelings, I had to endure. Trying to hide my trembling, I forced myself to show interest in Leila that I didn’t really feel.

— Tonight?

She sighed sweetly, full of satisfaction, her eyes sparkling with a dreamy light. She ran her hand through her hair, checking how soft and silky it was, and tilted her head slightly, probably imagining herself in Amir al-Faisal’s embrace. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of her dress, betraying slight anxiety, although she tried to look confident.

— I’m going to the husband’s bedroom, — she announced. Her voice trembled like that of a girl dreaming of a fairy tale. Leila raised her chin as if feeling an invisible crown on her head. Clearly, her dreams about the upcoming event were filled with expectation and hope that the night would mark the beginning of a new, more significant chapter in her life.

— He’s not really your husband. Don’t you think so? — I muttered, seeing no reason for joy. More bitterness crept into my words than I intended to show. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tried to appear indifferent. Why was she so happy when everything was just illusions and empty promises?

Leila didn’t immediately realize my dig. She continued to smile, but couldn’t understand where all my skepticism came from. The tension in the room grew, and I had to make an effort. I shrugged, showing that all this didn’t matter. The gesture was both mocking and distant.

— You don’t understand anything. I want this because it will change my status. Finally, I will become a woman. His woman. His! — Leila almost sang with delight, already mentally trying on everything.

— Aren’t you afraid that nothing will change? Last week, one of his… well, sort of wives, got so happy that she stopped eating, stopped leaving her chambers, and was sent back to her parents. His love and passion ended quickly, and all that remained was wilted tomatoes?

— Wilted?

— Or dried out, exhausted, withered, — I blushed. — That’s how the Russian proverb goes… I forgot.

— You Russians always complicate everything! — her smile faltered, but she tried to keep it.

— I’m sorry, — I was completely embarrassed. — I’m not as romantic as you. I don’t like men’s tomatoes!

Anger boiled inside me, but honestly, imagining her pink dreams crashing against reality was also unpleasant.

— Oh, please, how many have I seen? All this is from jealousy! And either they’re faking it or they’re stupid, — Leila leaned back again. — It will be different with him and me. I feel it in my heart. I think he was waiting for me to truly fall in love with him. And when I did, he called.

I mentally traced the outline of my key to freedom — a small plastic card with a security code. How I missed home, missed my mother!

— And everyone else, — I mumbled, running through the escape plan in my head.

— Well, not everyone, — her face twisted. — You just can’t, like the others, be happy for me. I thought at least you would say you’re happy.

I licked my lips and forced myself to return to the conversation.

— What? Of course, I’m happy. For you, for him, for everyone.

— I don’t really believe it.

— Will you tell me what’s really going on? Everyone comes, smiles, glows, and says nothing. At least someone would tell. What does he do to them that makes them so happy?

— Oh, as if you don’t know what happens between people in bed, — Leila returned to her usual mood.

I wasn’t particularly interested, but I couldn’t stay away.

— Of course, I can imagine! First, people kiss, and then men take out their p***s and put it in us, and all that. And some even manage to do more than that.

Thoughts from such a conversation got confused with shame. Leila burst out laughing, happy and pleased with the events, and I, out of the corner of my eye, noticed her distorted face. Her laughter was contagious, and despite the embarrassment, I couldn’t help but smile. She, seeing my reaction, winked at me, as if saying that this was all part of growing up and there was nothing terrible about it. And I blushed again, feeling the embarrassment cover me head to toe.

— Oh, Vasilisa, — she said, trying to hold back a new fit of laughter, — you’re so cute when you blush.

I shyly looked away, not knowing how to react to her words. Mixed emotions were fighting inside me: on the one hand, I felt awkward, but on the other hand, I realized that Leila accepted me as I was.

— It’s going to be terrible.

— Come on, — Leila continued, now more seriously. — We all go through this sooner or later. The main thing is that you yourself are ready and know what you want.

I wondered: what do I really want? The main thing is that nothing is stuffed together with tomatoes — that’s for sure. This thought made me smile, and Leila seemed to notice it.

— You see, — she said, — you already have your priorities. And then it will get easier.

We both laughed, and the tension eased a bit.

— Do you want to see? — she suddenly asked, grinning slyly, and a spark of mischief gleamed in her eyes. My eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

— N-o-o!

— Yes, you do, I can see it, — Leila wouldn’t let go, her laughter ringing almost ominously, — you’re dying to know how he differs from ordinary men. Everyone’s curious.

I felt like I wanted to sink through the ground from embarrassment. My eyes kept looking for salvation in the form of a door. But Leila, noticing my state, got up and grabbed my hand, her gaze full of determination.

— Let’s go.

— Where? — fear made my legs literally give way, and my heart began to beat even faster.

— I was given a key to the chambers. To get acquainted, to wait, they told me to wait there. I’ll hide you, — the words sounded like a challenge.

— I don’t need it.

Her strong, muscular hand didn’t weaken its grip for a second. What madness had come over her? What kind of peeping? I’d rather go to bed and wait for the night.

— I don’t want to!

— Otherwise, I’ll tell everyone you’re planning to escape, — she joked.

My head spun from a mixture of fear, horror, and a barely perceptible excitement from the upcoming crime. I knew Leila was prone to adventures, but this went beyond anything.