“Yes, yes, my Sultan, but we need to remain discreet. If the others overhear our plan, tonight would be ruined, any future endeavors may be far more difficult. Now,” Nahla leans forward, her hand wringing out the sponge and gently tracing it along her back, “we must review our courses of action. When the others have fallen asleep, we may try to quietly leave, but there is always the risk of waking Yasmin, Taima, or Lila. If any of them wake up in the night and notice our absence, they would also certainly relay that to Ruz.”

Nahla never understood the frequency of her Sultan’s bathing. She had bathed more times in the last three days than she had needed to lift something with her own hand. To be cleaned so often, it seemed to Nahla, would be akin to honing a blade already as sharp as a razor. Then again, Nahla didn’t need to understand her Sultan’s mind. It gave the two of them good cover to plan in private. Besides, she had been no stranger to sharpening and polishing a blade that saw no wear.

“If we are to succeed, we need a cover to excuse our absence. That is why, at dinner tonight, I shall make a blunder. I shall clumsily spill wine onto your lap, and you shall burst out in anger towards me. You shall swear to personally show me the consequences of my mistake. None shall look for us if they believe you to be in a foul mood, in the midst of punishing me.”