TWENTY-EIGHT
Philemon sat, forgotten, with the camels and other animals. Would this be his fate forever? Even the passionate kiss of the princess he loved had not been able to break the curse. If Anahita couldn't do it, then could anyone? Or would he be alone forever?
The sounds of feasting and merriment came from a well-lit tent near the middle of the encampment, beside the women's tent where they'd taken Anahita. Women walked between the two, carrying platters of food or what remained of it after the men had devoured everything.
He hadn't heard a single female voice since he arrived, he realised. No laughter, no chatter – none of the normal sounds he'd expect from normal women. They might be more outspoken in Tasnim than other places, but nowhere had he ever met women who were forced
