“I know you,” he said, turning off the engine and pocketing the keys. “You’re going to want to spend some time in the main marketplace before buying clothes, right?”
She started to tell him no, but then realized she’d hadn’t been in the souk since her return to El Bahar. A flash of longing for the sights, sounds and smells filled her.
“There’s nothing I would like more,” she said honestly.
“I figured as much.” Jamal got out of her car, then shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it onto the front seat. He unfastened his tie and the top button of his shirt, then threw his tie in after his jacket. After closing and locking the car, he rolled up his shirtsleeves until they were to his elbows.
In a matter of seconds he’d transformed himself from tailored, good-looking businessman to charming, relaxed companion. He took her hand and led the way between the buildings. As they approached the main market street, the noise level increased. Heidi held on to him so that they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd. They turned the corner and found themselves in the middle of delightful chaos.
Heidi drew in a deep breath as the familiar smells assaulted her. Perfumes and oils combined with grilling meats, fresh flowers, fruits, camels, people and the sweetness that always scented the El Baharian air.
What had once been a central location to gather for both locals and visitors from nomadic tribes had evolved into an eclectic center of commerce. The old streets were still lined with open-air shops and stalls selling everything from fruit to meat to brass lamps to cheap, fake artifacts bought by unsuspecting tourists. But the streets surrounding the original market area had become an upscale shopping district, complete with designer houses from around the world.
Vendors called out greetings to potential buyers. Children yelled as they played games that involved darting between the talking shoppers. Music blared from portable radios. Bells clanged, brass pots tumbled together, a lone guitarist sat on a bench across the street and sang about watermelon wine.
She turned in a slow circle, taking in the contrasts of color. The blue of the sky, the dusty brown of many of the robes. The bright fruits and flowers, the dark eyes of many of the natives, the shirts of the tourists, the striped awnings over the carts.
Beneath her feet were stones rubbed smooth by the thousands who had trod on this exact spot for hundreds of years. Except for the modern electronic devices, much of what had been brought to market to sell that morning was similar to items sold for generations. The marketplace was living history—alive, constant, and filled with memories.
“What are you thinking?” Jamal asked as he leaned close to speak in her ear.
“That my grandfather often brought me here,” she told him. “He said this was the heart of El Bahar. Like the king, the souk was a symbol for the people. That as long as they could come here as their parents had come and all the people before that, then they could have hope in the future.”
“Your grandfather was a wise man,” Jamal said. He squeezed her hand. “Come on. Let’s have fun.”
He pulled her along with him, weaving between the various carts. He stopped to buy her fruit and the most perfect orchids she’d ever seen. Heidi held the fragile blossoms tenderly in her arms, wondering how something so delicate could survive in such a hard climate.
They snacked on different foods and watched a tumbler who also juggled. After admiring beautiful rugs and several gold bracelets, which Jamal offered to buy for her, it was time to buy clothes.
They returned to the boutique of Madam Monique. The pink and gold motif continued inside the cool, elegant showroom where dozens of items of clothing were artfully arranged. Gold fixtures contrasted with the pink carpet and walls. There were tiny gilded chairs and glass tables and a triple mirror that would show every single flaw.
Heidi trailed after Jamal as he entered and wondered what she was supposed to do now. While she was enjoying her time with Jamal, she didn’t see how she was going to be able to buy her veils, and without them, there wasn’t going to be any dance.
“Your Highness, we are so pleased to see you,” a woman proclaimed in a high-pitched voice that probably drove the nearby dog population crazy. “Your grandmother and the lovely Princess Dora shop with Madam Monique, and now you are here.”
The squeaky voice belonged to a tall, slender woman dressed entirely in black. She had no br**sts or hips to speak of, and her face was as pale as chalk. Still, she had an air of elegance about her that made Heidi feel even more dowdy than usual.
The dramatic Madam Monique swept toward them and bowed low. “Prince Jamal, Princess Heidi, we are most honored.”
The three salesclerks behind her did the same, leaving Heidi feeling completely out of place. She didn’t question how Madam knew who she was. If she recognized Jamal then she would be safe in assuming the woman wearing a wedding band and accompanying him was his wife. Still, she wasn’t sure how one returned a bowed greeting.
Jamal solved her dilemma by stepping forward and shaking hands with Madam. Heidi followed suit. The forty-something owner motioned to the clothes around them. “We are here to serve. What would be the pleasure of the Royal Highnesses?”
To leave, Heidi thought, not sure she was ready for this. While she knew in her head that being married to Jamal made her a princess, she hadn’t had to act the part yet.
Jamal didn’t seem to suffer from the same qualms. Instead, he put his arm around her and drew her close. “My wife is in need of some new clothes. I am a most repentant husband who has waited too long to dress his new bride in silk and lace. So I am here to make amends.”