Asha grew anxious as the hours passed. She had momentary distractions like watching Nuru perform. She must be thrilled. Nuru talked about Faizah constantly. Asha was happy for her; she’d finally achieved her dream of dancing with her. And even that was not the distraction it should have been, reminding Asha too much of her life. But when the dance was over, and one after another, beautiful women kept entering the room Asha grew anxious again. It was not a feeling she had much experience with.
They should have stayed to the end of the line, been the last to see Azize. At least that way Asha would not have to watch all the beautiful women enter, wondering if he’d laughed with them, smiled at them, thought them beautiful. All the while hating Asha.
Asha had never thought of herself as a liar. Even when she went out of her way to lie. But the longer she spent alone, with her eyes trained on the door, as the other women relaxed, awaiting their fate, the longer she had to think and the more she saw his perspective.
And it wasn’t good.
The first time they’d interacted, she’d fought with him, ruined his chance to sail away from home, distracting him until he crashed his father’s boat. It wasn’t intentional! She hadn’t realized he was running away while his father and hers were away putting down a revolt. She’d just snuck on the ship to find something exciting and exotic. But Azize had caught her and tried to threaten her. That was his mistake. Baba had taught her never to be anyone’s victim.
“What are you doing here?” A hand yanked Asha off the stairs into the ship’s hold and dragged her into the light. She stumbled over the last step and fell. Looking up, Asha recognized the young prince and his shock.
Asha narrowed her eyes and looked around, this ship was meant to be empty, but here he was, alone. “What are you doing here?” She countered.
“This is my father's vessel. The king’s vessel. Do you know the punishment for stealing from the king?”
“Do you know the punishment for stealing from the king?” Asha taunted right back. That got him.
His hands fisted, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared wildly. “If you don't shut up and get off this ship now, I will have yo—Aaaaaaa!”
He'd broken off to scream in shock as the ship knocked into the dock and sent them both rolling. In retrospect, it was likely not very much of a bump; the ship was merely unmoored at one end and beginning to respond to the current. But it was the shock of their young lives. Screams came from the docks, and by the time anyone got on board, Asha was shouting at Azize and catting him a fool for unmooring the ship.
Asha blamed Azize for everything when a group of soldiers took them to his mother. And Queen Imara had believed Asha.
Their second interaction hadn’t been much better. He’d been pining after Sabra. Sabra, who he laughed with today, jumped to his feet to care for. When Asha was eleven Azize pining after Sabra only seemed silly and—useful.
She had been a pest, hadn’t she?
Asha only wanted to see the palace menagerie. She had tried twice, and both times been caught by Hadhi and punished by Jauhar. Baba had promised her a trip, but then he had to leave Jaccada on a mission for the king. Mzaa Jauhar always turned on Asha when Baba was gone. But Asha had a plan. Baba always said, “You have to count on yourself to get what you want, Asha Other people fail you. Be your own greatest ally.''
A ll she needed to do was get rid of the guards for a little while. Sabra was always game for one of Asha's adventures. She was two years older than Asha, but she wasn't as savvy, so Asha was their leader. The trouble was Sabra would want to see the menagerie too, so she couldn't be the distraction. They needed someone truly frightening. Hadhi would be best. Her sour face would scare the guards away. But she was no fun. She only did as Mzaa Jauhar said unless Nuru was in trouble. That's when she got really scary.
So that's what Asha needed, Nuru to get caught and Hadhi to come rescue her. In the chaos, Asha and Sabra would sneak into the menagerie. Hadhi would know what had happened and tell her mother, and Asha would be making breakfast with the servants until Baba came home, but it would be worth it.
Asha was sneaking through the long grasses; it was the quickest way to Sabra’s home. She was almost there when she saw him hiding.
Asha crept closer. Baba taught her it was better to know as much as possible about a situation before others know you were there. So she snuck, quietly as she was able to see what captivated the prince.
When she was directly behind him, Asha stood on her toes and stared over at her friend. Sabra was humming as she washed laundry. Asha tried to examine Sabra neutrally. She knew her friend was pretty; she also knew men talked about how she had matured. But it was odd to see the prince hiding in the grass to stare at her.
Asha felt him sensing her presence and ducked in to the grass; it rustled a bit, and his head shot up, looking her way, for a moment. He must have thought she was an animal because he went back to his staring.
Asha smiled to herself It would all be so easy now. The prince could simply walk her and Sabra into the menagerie. There would be no risk of getting in trouble, either with the guards or Mzaa Jauhar.
Asha walked confidently out of the grass. “I can convince her to talk to you.”
He jerked around, glaring already. “Go away,” he hissed.
“I’m her greatest friend,” Asha said, with a superior smirk on her lips. “If you want her favor, you need my help.”
He should have told her he didn’t need her help, that he was the prince. It was what Asha would have done in his place. But he didn’t understand his power.
“Would you just leave,” he begged. “I want nothing to do with you.”
“I only want one favor.”
“I’m not doing anything for you.”
“You’ll get to be with Sabra.”
“What?” He acted as though he was not listening. But Asha knew she had his whole attention.
“Sabra wants to see the menagerie,” Asha lied. Sabra would want to see it, once Asha explained why she should. But Sabra was naturally contented.
“But she can’t go alone,” Asha rushed out when she saw him considering.
He rolled his eyes. “Does she even want to go?”
“Of course. Go ask her,” Asha waved boldly. If he were willing to talk to Sabra, he wouldn’t be hiding.
“Fine,” he snapped. “Go get her. We have to go before my father returns.”
That alone would not have been so bad. He wouldn’t like her better, but he might have forgiven the blatant manipulation. If she hadn’t decided to embarrass him on top of everything. But once he snuck them into the menagerie, it turned out Sabra quite liked the prince. She walked around sweetly with him while he explained everything, let him hold her hand. And Asha was left all alone, like she always was at home.
She hated being alone. She hated feeling like the only person everyone could do without. Sabra never treated her so, until Asha had introduced her to the prince. And the prince suddenly realized his power, whenever Asha started to say something he chastised her, as though he had a right to, saying things like:
“Please remember you are my guest, lean eject you at any time.”
Or:
“This is not your menagerie. Please refrain from trying to touch the animals.”
It was the first sign of backbone he’d shown, but Asha hadn’t seen it like that. She didn’t take criticism half as well as she met it out.
Sabra kept looking away shyly, embarrassed by Asha. It was too much!
Asha could have gotten in without his help. This was exactly the sort of thing Baba warned her about. But he had also taught Asha how to make sure no one ever saw her as their victim. So when they came across an enclosure of monkeys, and one was sitting off by itself watching the others play, Asha brightened up considerably.
“Oh look, Azize, it’s you.” She pointed excitedly to the lonely monkey. “Hiding all alone and sad, watching Sabra. I wonder where the Asha monkey is, to come and rescue him.”
He turned on her then, wide-eyed, looking ready to cry. Really he had been such a sensitive boy.
Yes, she had definitely been a brat. The way Azize looked at her today, when his father said her name, he definitely remembered. He saw today as Asha trying to show him up—again.
She hadn’t been. She was only enjoying the moment, looking into his eyes and hoping. But there wasn’t any hope, was there? She deserved his derision.
And the way he’d looked at Hadhi was repulsive. It was terrifying. Hadhi was right; she did have his attention. How had that happened? When did sour-faced-Hadhi learn to flirt?
Asha needed the power back. The longer she stretched on without it, the longer she spent in corners, with her insides aching and her mind whirring and her heart pounding. Baba always told her to rely only on herself. Why hadn’t she listened? She should have found a way to sneak into last night’s ball on her own. She might still have met Azize, might still have captured his attention. But now, Asha was terrified. She was like Azize in the past, entirely unsure of herself. She needed the power. She could fix this with the power.
Zawadi had promised to meet her inside, but Asha could not find her anywhere. When she peeked out at Azize every now and again, she saw him growing slowly more defeated and angry. Before long he would hate both Asha and his mystery woman. It was such an utter mess.
If only she had the other slipper, then she could make him understand.