She left her room quietly, so that none in the palace knew she was about. Her insubstantial feet made no noise on the hard stone floor as she wound through the passageways to the room where the prince was staying. She might have had a hard time navigating through a larger palace, but the simplicity of King Rasbul’s family quarters helped her reach her destination with a minimum of confusion. There were but four sleeping rooms for unmarried men and women, and she had heard Ahmad’s voice go past her door as he was guided to his chamber.
The door was closed, but she could see under the crack that a light was still burning in the room. She could neither knock nor open the door by herself, so she called in a harsh whisper, “Your Highness, this is Selima.”
There was a short silence, then, “Yes
