Page 5 - My FlipBook

O UTR UN THE WIN D

lead into the palace, just like we did earlier today. It already
feels like weeks ago.
The ceiling soars high, with rows of unlit torches lining the
walls. Sunlight streams in through an open courtyard toward
the middle of the palace, and a set of stairs climbs upward into
a second story that wraps around the whole room with railings.
“This way,” Kahina says, already stepping up the stairs. I
blink and follow, taking in the view of the ground floor from up
above. I stop myself just before I slam into Kahina’s back—she
stands outside a doorway, her silhouette framed by the fading
daylight. From over her shoulder, I see that my suite is not
empty.
Four women stand silently in the room, polite smiles plas-
tered on their faces. Fabrics of every color are folded in their
sturdy arms. I follow Kahina into the room, and try to mimic the
smiles the women wear. A quick inventory of the room reveals
a canopied bed—with a pallet made of feathers, I suspect—
pushed against the back wall, with plenty of elegant drapes and
intricately painted pitchers stored in intervals across the room.
There’s a low sofa and washbasin against the opposite wall.
Kahina looks over to me and grimaces. I let my face drop.
She wrings her hands, then walks over to the women. She takes
one of the dresses from their arms, dark purple and lined with
golden thread, but she quickly realizes she’s holding it upside
down. She grits her teeth and hands it back to the woman.
“Let’s start with this one,” she tells her. Kahina points at
the girl to her left. “Can you do hair?”
“I’d prefer a braid,” I interject. “I can do it myself.”
“A braid?” She scoffs, turning around. Behind her, the
women’s eyes grow wide. “For a banquet? No, that won’t do. I
want . . .” She grits her teeth, and points at the girl beside her

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