Chapter 37
I hear two knocks on the door before one of the palace maids opens it and informs me that Princess Amapola wishes to see me. I am surprised that she speaks English so well, but then I remember Kamal telling me that my native language is considered their second language here.
“Where should I meet her?” I ask.
“She’s just waiting for your permission to come in, Miss Turner.”
I almost jump out of the bed. “Please let her know that she can come in right now.”
The maid leaves, and I start walking in circles, not sure where I should talk to the princess. The balcony? Sitting on the armchairs? There’s no time to decide because Kamal’s mother appears, even more beautiful than when we first met.
Her black hair, tinted with just a few silver strands, flows freely, and she wears a cream-colored tunic that perfectly contrasts with her skin tone.
“Your Highness . . .”
“Amapola.”
“Forgive me. I can’t forget that you’re a princess.”
“You will be one too, soon, Madeline, and you must learn never to bow your head to anyone.” She points to the armchairs, and I wait for her to sit before choosing a place for myself.
“Pride is not one of my sins.”
“In your case, it wouldn’t have anything to do with pride but with the need to assert yourself. Like me, you’re a foreigner in Sintarah, and you’ll meet people who will try to belittle you. You need to learn to stand your ground in the place that is rightfully yours.”
I smile, surprised.
“What is it?” she asks.
“May I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I didn’t expect such a warm welcome. I mean, because I’m a foreigner. Until yesterday, I didn’t know that you were Spanish.”
For the first time since we met, she smiles. “I can hardly remember who I was before coming to Sintarah. Actually, before meeting my Zayn,” she says, I suppose referring to Kamal’s father.
“Your son told me that his father met you in a Romani caravan,” I start, feeling my cheeks warm. “Please let me know if I’m being indiscreet, but it sounds like a fairytale or the kind of cliché we read in romances.”
“It was very much like a fairytale,” she says dreamily.
“From the moment we first met, he wanted me. It was love at first sight, but I fought against it because I was promised to someone else, and I knew that if I accepted Zayn’s proposal to become his wife, I would be rejected by my entire family and all my friends. ”
“And yet, even with everything against you, you couldn’t resist,” I conclude.
“No. He was handsome and seemed like he knew every secret of the world. He was older, powerful, and wildly in love; Zayn would never have accepted a ‘no’. He wooed me until I confessed I was in love as well.”
“It must have been hard. I suppose gypsies also have traditions just as deep-rooted as people in Sintarah.”
“Yes, but Zayn was unstoppable at seducing me. And when I told him I loved him, he asked to meet my father. He said he was going to marry me and would be glad if he had his blessing but that he would make me his wife one way or another.”
“Jesus! And what happened?”
“My father was severe, stubborn, but also just a man. He would never have forced me to stay in our family if that meant I would be unhappy. He left it to me to decide but made it clear that if I chose my Zayn, I would be forgotten by everyone there. I wouldn’t exist in their hearts and souls anymore. ”
“And despite all that, you picked him.”
“There was no choice. I couldn’t live with only half of my heart, and that’s what it would have meant to stay away from my Zayn.”
“It’s a beautiful love story,” I say, wiping away a tear and thinking about how much she had to give up to be with the man she loved.
“Also sad because I never saw my family again.”
“They disowned you, then?”
“Yes. Only one of my sisters sent me a letter once. Estrella[18] was the youngest and a thousand times more of a dreamer than I was. She also wanted to cut ties, fly away, and I think she looked up to me.”
“Why didn’t you keep in touch with her at least?”
“I tried, but my sister disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes. Zayn even tried to investigate, but the last we heard she was in the United States. We found nothing more besides that.”
“You’re very brave, if I may say so. You gave up everything to follow your heart.”
“Yes, but living in a different culture from ours is not easy, Madeline. That’s why we’re having this conversation.”
“I know I’ll have to leave much of what I know behind.”
“Do you intend to convert?”
“I haven’t thought about it yet.”
“No problem. You can decide later.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Yes, but not because Zayn asked me to. It was because I assimilated the culture and beliefs of the people of Sintarah, to the point that they became who I am.”
“Don’t you miss your old life?”
“I can hardly remember it. Except . . .”
“What?”
“The dances. The people of Sintarah love festivities too, but mine were free, you know? Our joy was cultural. It’s part of who we are.”
I smile. “You used the present tense.”
“I think deep in my soul I will never stop being a Romani, but a Romani tamed by love.”
“You could have left after he passed away.”
“Yes, I could have, but you know what true freedom is, Madeline? It has nothing to do with the possibility of surrounding ourselves with walls; it’s the right to make our own choices even when there are no walls limiting us.”
“Can love be a wall?”
“Is that what you feel for my son? Love?” she asks instead of answering me.
“Yes. I’m in love with Kamal, or I would never have agreed to marry him.”
“I shouldn’t give you advice, but I’ll do it anyway.”
“Please do.”
“I love my son, but he was raised differently from other people. Since he was a little boy, he’s been used to people granting his every wish because he was born to order and to be obeyed.
But you’re not his subject—you’ll be his wife, mother of his heirs.
Never neglect yourself for whoever they may be, not even for your love of him. True love doesn’t subjugate another.”
“I don’t think he loves me.”
“I won’t meddle between you two—both of you have to figure out your own feelings—but I can tell you that my son has a reason to be so distrustful and standoffish.”
“Is it related to his ex-fiancée?”
“He told you about Hiba?”
“Only that she took her own life.”
“She did, and I think Kamal never forgave her for that.”
“Was there a reason for her to commit suicide?”
“Yes, but as I said before, it’s not my right to meddle in your relationship. Just don’t forget what I told you: love and respect yourself. I’ve always been crazy about my Zayn, but I never subjugated myself at the expense of my self-love.”