Though things with Tehar continued to improve, Kathy's relationship with his mother remained strained. Basira made very little effort to hide the fact that she didn't approve of their relationship, her ire all the more ferocious as it became apparent that they were still sleeping together.

She didn't want Kathy in her home. Fairuz and Ihab followed Basira's lead in ignoring Kathy, but she didn't sense any genuine hostility from them. They were just doing as they were told. As Kathy's Arabic improved, she made a few attempts to reach out to them, primarily without success.

"Why are Basira and the others here, anyway?" she asked Shadaf as they sat in the garden one sunny July day. He was working on his poetry and making half an effort to help Kathy with her studies, though she was mostly teaching herself at this point.

She was struggling to stay focused, however. Her breasts had been aching and tender with the recent changes caused by the pregnancy, and anytime she moved too fast she was hit with a wave of breathless dizziness. She'd actually fainted the other day from it, just stood up too fast and fell right over. Tehar had nearly had a heart attack.

"You said this was your mother's house, right?" Kathy went on, pushing away her notebook. "Sheikha Nouha?"

"Say it in Arabic," Shadaf said without looking up from his journal. Kathy huffed, then carefully put the words together to say the phrase in Arabic.

"You're getting better," he said. "Watch your h. It's 'amk not hammock. But yes, this is my mother's house. Though she is rarely home."

"Why not?" Kathy asked, curious. Shadaf sighed and closed his journal, taking off his reading glasses.

"My condition depresses her," he said without emotion, tucking his glasses into his pocket. "I'm the only child she had with my father before he died, and because I am not healthy, she considers me a sign of her personal failure as a wife. We don't get along. I believe she's in Brazil at the moment. If she came back to the country, the family would probably make her settle down, so she just doesn't come back."

"I'm sorry," Kathy said with a frown. "I know what that's like."

"God save us from parents that run from their own children," Shadaf said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway. Because of my condition, I never moved out of my mother's house. Khalila should have received her own palace when she married me, but because of me, her position is also decreased. So, we live here in the home my mother abandoned. Basira's husband has many wives whom she does not get along with, so when the family decided that someone should be sent here to look after me, she volunteered and brought her daughter Fairuz with her. Ihab begged to come along as well. I'm not exactly certain why. She's a young widow. Tehar's half-brother married her shortly before getting involved in some foreign war and being shot."

"Oh, how sad," Kathy said, feeling bad for the quiet girl.

"She's probably better off without him," Shadaf said honestly. "He wasn't well-liked, and the marriage was arranged of course, so I doubt she was very attached to him either. Of course, being a widow in this country comes with its own challenges."

Kathy nodded in understanding. It was good that her husband's family had decided to take care of Ihab after his death. They could easily have thrown her out or tried to send her back to her parents.

"What about Fairuz?" Kathy asked. "She's only a little younger than Ihab. She should be married by now, shouldn't she?"

"She's had several proposals," Shadaf said. "But Basira keeps turning them down. And since they came out here, her chances of marriage are significantly decreased. This place is a bit obscure. We rarely have visitors, and my condition makes people reluctant to stay. So, there just aren't many men thinking about Fairuz or Ihab. And since Basira isn't actively trying to arrange things for them…"

He shrugged.

"It seems they're doomed to spinsterhood."

"That doesn't seem like such a bad option," Kathy said honestly. "No offense."

"Perhaps," Shadaf agreed. "Even for me, who grew up with it, the way we do things seems pointlessly cruel sometimes. We're constantly struggling to maintain our traditions while also progressing with the rest of the world. The back and forth is so strong that sometimes it seems the two balance out and we end up frozen, unable to move either direction. We are changing, but slowly. Too slowly, I think. People want change in their own lifetimes and sooner or later they will have it at any cost, for better or worse."

"Sounds like the kind of thing people write poems about," Kathy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Or prize-winning articles," he shot back.

"It wouldn't mean anything coming from me," Kathy said, shaking her head. "I've only been here a few months and I've barely left this palace. I've got no roots here and no right to go criticizing or condemning. You know your country and its culture. You have the context for everything, and you're literally a royal. If you asked for change, you could actually make a difference."

"No one listens to me," Shadaf said with a chuckle. "Why should they? I may be a withered branch on the royal family tree, but most would prune me just the same."

"Don't underestimate yourself," she said. "If you really believe in changing things and there's even a slim chance you could, shouldn't you try?"

"It's something to consider," he said. "But perhaps you should take your own advice."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You were asking about the sisters because you want to get to know them, right?" Shadaf asked. "I know you've made a few attempts."

"They're not interested," Kathy said with a sigh. "They just follow Basira."

"Don't underestimate yourself," Shadaf said, imitating her American accent, poorly. "They're grown women, not Basira's puppets, and you're the first western woman they've ever encountered. I'd be amazed if they weren't interested. You just need to give them the opportunity."

"I'll try if you will," Kathy said, offering him a hand to shake. He took it.

"Deal."

She cornered Ihab first. She'd noticed the girl seemed to be lowest in the pecking order of the house, below even Kathy. She seemed to be bookish. Kathy saw her reading often when she wasn't running errands for Basira.

The house did have some servants, but not many. Certainly less than was normal, according to Shadaf and Khalila. The Sheikh's palaces usually had hordes of staff. But Basira preferred to do most things herself apparently, and what she didn't do, she got Fairuz and Ihab to handle. There were a few cleaners and a good number of gardeners, but most of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry was done by the women.

So, she started by volunteering to help with the housework. Basira was clearly surprised and then suspicious that the entitled American woman wanted to get her hands dirty. But Kathy was hardly a stranger to housework. She'd done chores growing up and kept her own apartment for years. Though the methods by which they did some things were different from what she was used to, there was nothing too far out of her depth. She picked up on even the unusual things fast.

Basira had kept a close eye on her at first, apparently expecting some mischief, though what she thought Kathy would try while washing dishes Kathy couldn't imagine. But after a while, she relaxed, and before long, Kathy was folding laundry alongside Ihab. She took a deep breath, remembered her lessons with Shadaf, and took her chance.

"So many sheets!" she said in Arabic. "Why do we wash the bedding in the guest rooms so often when we never have visitors?"

Ihab stared at her in blank surprise for a long moment. Kathy was sure they must have noticed her practicing her Arabic with Shadaf and Khalila, but Ihab must not have realized how far along Kathy was.

"I didn't realize you could speak my language," Ihab replied. "I'm sorry that my English is so poor."

"Don't worry about it," Kathy reassured her. "I wanted to learn anyway. And now, we can talk just fine."

"They tried to teach me English," Ihab confessed. "Tehar and Shadaf and Khalila and even Fairuz all learned as children. But my family thought it was a waste to educate a girl. I am still learning things slowly."

"You seem to like reading," Kathy said. "I always see you with a book."

"There are so many good ones I need to catch up on!" Ihab replied with a laugh.

"Can you read English?" Kathy asked. "I brought a few books with me and I'd love to trade sometime. I'm trying to learn Arabic script, but it’s pretty difficult.”

"I can't read much English," Ihab admitted. "But I would love to try! What kind of books did you bring?"

"Just a couple of romance novels," Kathy admitted. "To read on the plane. Not exactly classic American literature. But I'm going to be here a while anyway, so I'll ask my friend back home to send me some of my other books. I have this fantastic one about bees, and the queen is sick but no one knows yet… It's hard to explain, but it's really good."

"It sounds interesting," Ihab said with a laugh. "I don't think I've read any books about bees."

Ihab struggled at first, but helping her learn to read English was just another opportunity for Kathy to befriend her. And she certainly needed the help learning to read Arabic, which she struggled with immensely.

Once Ihab had enough of a grasp of English to begin comprehending what she was reading, she was hooked on Kathy's romance novels. She devoured them, then read them over while waiting for Kathy to get more. Kathy tried her on a few other genres, but it was clear Ihab had a soft spot for romance. Kathy enlisted Shadaf's help to buy more and keep Ihab well supplied. While she still acted aloof when Basira was present, they smiled when they saw each other and, whenever they had a free moment, read together.

* * *

Fairuz was a harder nut to crack. She hardly left her mother's side and Kathy struggled to determine her interests. Kathy continued trying to reach out to her or pull her into conversation whenever she had the chance, but Fairuz seemed uninterested, avoidant.

Kathy had nearly given up when, to her surprise, Fairuz came to her.

"You have been giving books to Ihab," she said one day as they were washing dishes together, while her mother was busy elsewhere.

In the kitchen, where no men were expected to go, Fairuz had shed her veil and Kathy had taken off her headscarf. In this setting, it made her feel like a lunch lady.

"I have," Kathy confirmed. "She wanted to learn to read English. Why, would you like one?"

Fairuz's jaw tightened, and she didn't reply for several minutes.

"Do you think," she spoke slowly, as though she was having trouble finding the words. "Do you think there any books about women?"

"Well, yeah, lots of them—"

"No, I mean, like the ones you gave Ihab," Fairuz struggled to clarify. "But about…women."

Kathy was confused for a moment, then it dawned on her.

"I think I could get you a couple," she said, smiling.

"No, never mind." Fairuz shook her head, clearly humiliated. "I could never keep them. If Basira caught me with them—"

"How about a movie night, then?” Kathy offered.

A few nights later, she invited Khalila, Ihab, and Fairuz up to her room for a girls’ movie night. She'd had to work hard to find a movie that had both lesbians and a happy ending. But she thought she'd pulled it off. Khalila loved the prose-y narration, Ihab loved the romance, and, though Fairuz made no comment on whether she liked it or not, Kathy caught her crying near the end.

From then on, Fairuz was at least less chilly towards her, though they still didn't chat much. Kathy was beginning to understand that she just wasn't much of a talker, regardless of how much she liked someone or not.

Kathy didn't report on the success of her attempts to Shadaf. A better relationship with Tehar's family was its own reward. But she had a feeling he had noticed. She saw him bent over his journal even more than usual in the following days, working with a kind of intensity she hadn't seen in him before.

To her surprise, Tehar noticed as well. They’d snuck away to the gardens together one warm afternoon and laid among the flowers, Kathy sprawled between his knees with her head on his chest.

He ran fingers through her hair, loosed from its scarf, while she wove flowers into a chain the way Khalila had recently taught her. With the help of Khalila, Fairuz, and Ihab, she’d been making an effort to learn more about Abu Sadah and its culture, learning a new respect for their customs and traditions.

In particular, Fairuz had been teaching her traditional Abu Sadahi weaving. She was thinking about the pattern of a cloth she’d been working on, trying out different combinations of flowers, imagining which would look best when she wove it. Tehar peered over her shoulder at the flower crown curiously.

“The jasmine compliments the dahlia well,” he said. “Fairuz would approve.”

“Do you think so?” Kathy asked, smiling as she set the crown in his dark hair.

“These days I feel like you know her better than I do,” Tehar confessed. “With the difference in age, we have never been close.”

“You should talk to her more,” Kathy suggested, admiring the way the petals scattered on his curls. “She’s smart. Quiet. Reserved, like you are. Ihab is wonderful too. Sweet, and a hopeless romantic. She wants to see the world.”

“I’m glad you’ve made friends with them,” Tehar said, catching a fallen blossom from the crown and weaving it into her hair instead. “They’ve seemed much happier since you’ve been here. I was worried that their banishment here had ended all possibility of happiness for them.”

“Because they aren’t married?” Kathy asked. “I would think you knew me well enough to know not every woman’s goal in life is to get married.”

“You are hardly a typical woman,” he pointed out. She frowned at him until he capitulated, holding his hands up.

“Does that mean you never want to get married?” he asked a moment later, seeming troubled.

“Probably not,” she admitted, paying more attention to the flowers she was fussing with. “I’ve never put a lot of thought into it. It’s not a priority for me, you know?”

“But you aren’t against it?” Tehar pushed. “It’s still a possibility?”

“I guess so,” Kathy said with a sigh. “Why? Are you worried I’m going to marry someone else?”

She rolled over to look at him and saw the strained look on his face. She touched his cheek, concerned and confused.

“I know you don’t want to get married,” she said when he didn’t explain. His frown only deepened, his eyes avoiding hers. “Is this still not enough?”

“I don’t know, Kathy,” he said gently, meeting her eyes at last and running his hand through her hair. “I don’t think any amount of you could ever be enough.”

He kissed her again, and Kathy let the conversation fall away, despite her concerns. Was their warm little fantasy beginning to collapse already? It seemed that they’d have less time to linger in the safety of indecision than she’d predicted.