Amira lowered her eyes. Was the woman a mind reader, too? Did she suspect Amira’s fantasies were not of modesty or obedience, but of adventure? Knowing all too well how powerful a mother-in-law could be—in al-Remal, after all, at least half of the married men still lunched regularly with their mothers—she resolved to be careful to keep out of Faiza’s way as much as possible, much as she had tried to do with her aunts.

While Aunt Najla and Aunt Shams engaged Faiza in polite small talk, Amira studied Ali’s sisters. Zeinab, who was almost as wide as she was tall, appeared to be rather simple, even by prevailing standards of womanhood. Elaborately coiffed and heavily made up, she wore a flowered dress that emphasized her formidable arms and massive thighs.

With heartfelt sighs of appreciation, Zeinab tucked into the pastries. When she ordered Bahia to refill her plate a second time, her sister Munira asked dryly, “What happened to your latest diet regimen, Zeinab? Only this morning, you vowed not to eat more than one sweet a day.”

“I did, I truly did.” Zeinab giggled. “I know I should be stronger, but I just can’t resist such delicious pastries.”

“Just pastries? It seems to me, dear Sister, that all food is irresistible to you— even after you’ve consumed enough of it to satisfy two or three women with less … hearty appetites.”

Faiza shot Munira a warning look, but Zeinab just rolled her eyes and giggled again. “Everything you say is true, alas. But what can I do when Allah clearly intended for me to be plump? I can only be grateful that, in his infinite wisdom, the Almighty blessed me with a husband who prefers a well-rounded woman to one who is bony.”

“As you say, you are indeed blessed,” replied Munira, who, though not unattractive, was both bony and husbandless.

Of Ali’s two sisters, it was she who interested Amira more, for although Munira had studied only with palace tutors, it was said she could quote at will from the poetry of Kahlil Gibran, the work of historian Ibn Khaldun, and the writings of the fourteenth-century traveler, Ibn Battutah. These examples of learning met with the king’s approval, but Amira’s aunts said that Munira often overstepped, citing the works of such Egyptian feminists as Huda al-Sharawi. “The king pretends not to hear such nonsense,” Najla had said, “so if the girl makes any subversive speeches, smile and say nothing.”

Amira waited eagerly, hoping to hear something “subversive.” But after jibing at her sister, Munira subsided, half-smiling as she took in the conversation around her, appraising Amira with her eyes as she expressed her good wishes.

O

When the al-Rashad women left, Amira wanted nothing more than to go to bed and dream about the future, but her aunts, still brimming with nervous energy, began dissecting the royals.