14 - Jafar
J afar gave the man in the sapphire-blue robes his name but received no excitement or recognition. If they didn’t know him as the boy who had stirred the House of Wisdom with his application, why were they treating him as though they knew him?
“Follow us,” the man said, and Jafar began to refuse before he saw the light bounce off the rubies one last time as the Sultana slipped them into her dress pocket. He needed those rubies. Obeying the man might be the only way to retrieve them. “Come, Sultana.”
The Sultana nodded, and though Jafar recognized the man as her royal vizier, he appeared to be more like the queen’s keeper. Jafar had never before considered that though a king or queen might seem supreme, someone else might pull the strings from the shadows.
It was an interesting distribution of power, one it seemed the vizier enjoyed, for there was cunning in the man’s dark gaze, a sternness about him that Jafar couldn’t tell if it was being used for the Sultana, or against her.
“Where are you taking me?” Jafar asked.
The royal vizier looked back at him, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. “The palace.”
He had only just arrived at the House of Wisdom and didn’t want to leave just yet. He certainly never thought he’d be escorted away by the queen of Maghriz and her royal vizier. Or find himself at the whim of another man old enough to be his father, but he needed those rubies.
“You’re not really going to let them order us around, are you?” Iago snapped in his ear.
“I am indeed,” Jafar said with a sigh.
“Why I oughta—” Iago began grumbling beneath his breath, but took no initiative to leave. Jafar hid a smile.
He steeled himself with a heavy inhale, and as the two of them followed the Sultana and the man in the sapphire-blue robes toward the great doors of the House of Wisdom, movement caught his eye. Rohan! He was emerging from the shelves.
“Wait!” Jafar said, albeit a little too loudly. Iago cleared his throat. Jafar swallowed. It wasn’t every day one met a queen, let alone the queen of Maghriz .
Both she and her vizier halted and followed his gaze to Rohan.
“There are two of you?” the vizier asked, sounding perplexed.
“He’s my brother,” Jafar said, confused. “Can he visit the palace as well?”
He didn’t know why he was being escorted to the palace, but that was the most neutral way to put it. He didn’t think he was in trouble. After they’d stumbled upon him and stared like he was a dead man returned, the Sultana had said a single word.
Him .
And the vizier had understood exactly what she’d meant.
At Jafar’s question now, the vizier deferred to the Sultana, who studied both Rohan and Jafar with a furrow in her brow. A sorrow, he wanted to guess. She wasn’t wholly present, as if part of her had been left behind and was yet to catch up. He didn’t fully know what was happening, but he wanted the rubies and Rohan wanted the genie.
And until Jafar retrieved the rubies, he couldn’t risk Rohan’s learning what he needed to about the golden scarab and dragging them away to find the two halves.
The Sultana pulled her royal vizier behind one of the round tables with precariously stacked scrolls. Her voice was low, but Jafar had grown up in the silence of Baba’s presence. His hearing was better than most.
“We will have our pick,” she said to him.
The vizier didn’t seem so certain. “People will know, Your Highness.”
The Sultana shook her head. “It’s been years.”
Iago leaned closer to Jafar’s ear. “I can’t tell if they’re talking about cooking us up, or the rubies you’re sure she stole.”
“I can’t, either,” Jafar said, and beckoned Rohan closer.
“Now’s our chance to make a run for it, then,” Iago replied.
“No,” Jafar said. “Not without the—”
“The whereabouts of the golden scarab,” Rohan finished, overhearing them. Jafar gave him a tight smile. “So why are we trying to visit the palace?”
“Because we can’t say no to the queen,” Jafar answered matter-of-factly, touching the back of his neck.
Rohan’s eyes widened. “That’s the Sultana of Maghriz?”
“Yes, it is,” the Sultana replied, returning to them. She laughed at his shock. “And I hear from your brother that the two of you traveled long and far to reach us. Please, allow me to properly welcome you to my kingdom.”
Rohan opened his mouth to protest.
“Ah,” she said, stopping him with a raised hand. “It’s impolite to refuse.”
Jafar held very still. He couldn’t place her tone, but he was certain a threat was to follow.
It did not come.
She turned and glided away in the direction of the exit, in the direction of the Maghrizi palace, her cloak stretching a dark reflection in the gloss of the wide tiles. It looked like an oasis, one Jafar wasn’t certain he should follow, but he understood: she was a queen, and the threat was implied. They had no choice. He stared after her, a nervous Rohan beside him.
For the rubies, Jafar tried to convince himself. The only difference between the moment he’d met the Sultana and now was the illusion that he had a choice.
“Look at the bright side,” Iago said. “At least the two of you are dressed the part.”