Arabian Nights

Getting Pampered

"What do you think," Queen Aal Masood, Fatima, asked gently.

"I-it's beautiful," she murmured, stunned at such grace and elegance put in a simple canvas. But it sure isn't as simple as it looks.

"Not as beautiful as you, my dear," she replied back lovingly. she couldn't help the blush creeping up her neck, so she looked down to her lap and heard Fatima let out a small chuckle.

"This drawing - as you know - symbolises aal Masood. More like Al Bahara. As you see, each brief detail has a meaning. The black outline conveys the strength and power of our men, though an outline, but they are - were - the anchor to everything that surrounds us now. The yellowish orange of the pattern represents the desert, the rawness of it in ancient times. The golden colour represents the treasure within our land," she paused and chuckled slightly. "I could go on all night but we better get to the girls' quarters for the wax."

Wax? What wax?

And then it dawned on her. Of course. She had to be pampered and ready for the prince.

Her mother always would take her to the girls' quarters to get her arms, legs and armpits waxed, so she hoped it wouldn't be a painful experience.

"Come on, lets go," she encouraged. She asked for her hand, and she put it in hers when she stood up. Then they took the journey to the girls' quarters.

When they arrived, they were greeted to a room teeming with girls. She was then taken by one to an empty room except for a small bed and a table. The girl asked her to take off her clothes and wear the blue robe, and when she was ready just to yell her name - Magda.

As she took off her white skirt, black long-sleeved top, and sandals, she couldn't help but wonder about tomorrow night.

What would he look like, would he be handsome or hideous? Would he be strong or weak looking? Would he be just like what she had heard of his brothers? Huge, dark and overly possessive of their wives, would he be like that? Would he resent her, since she would pretty much take his freedom away?

Her train of thoughts was cut short when a knock sounded on the door.

"My princess, are you ready yet?" Magda asked.

She looked down at herself to see that she was in her birthday suit. She quickly wore the robe and told the young woman to come in.

She walked in with another girls hot on her heels. Magda beckoned her to lie down on the bed. She does as instructed, noticing a humongous bowl in her hands, what she could only assume would be the wax.

"I would ask you to take off the robe but I know you would be uncomfortable, so could you raise it up or open it when I ask you? We're only girls so there's nothing to be embarrassed about," Magda gave her a soft smile and she nodded, gratefully.

"Now, let's begin. We don't have all day," she declared as she took hold of a handful of wax, and started kneading it thoroughly.

************

Her skin was red, sore, and burning hot. She had been waxed everywhere. Her body felt ultra sensitive. She barely even managed to wear her clothes back on. She was glad Magda gave her some oils and creams to apply during a slightly cold bath and right after.

"What time is it?" She asked Fatima as they headed out of the quarters. She looked at her expensive-looking watch then told her, "5 pm."

She gasped quietly. They had spent almost five hours getting her waxed. Wow.

"Now let's go give you a bath, you look miserably in pain," she said humorously.

Fatima took her to her quarters, assuring her her husband - king Aal Masood - won't be there. She started the bath, then added the oils she had been given into the water.

She left to fetch a dress with a lighter fabric, while she gaped at the beauty of the room. The main colours were cream, gold and chestnut brown. The bathroom had a huge bathtub, a spacious shower stand with translucent glass covering.

Her ogling was cut short when Fatima came back with a white satin dress.

"Take a bath and wear this, it should ease the discomfort. Don't take long, we still have Samara to visit again for the henna," she gave her a warm smile and left, closing the door behind her.

She hurriedly took off her clothes, arranging them neatly on the counter top. Tying her hair in a bun, she slowly sat in the tub.

Goosebumps started forming on the skin of her arms and legs, courtesy to the freezing bath Fatima had ran for her. Eventually she got used to the lack of heat, and started rubbing her skin, relishing the smoothness of her body.

A while later, Fatima knocked on the door.

"Honey, it's time. Get ready. Your skin should feel better once you apply the cream. The towels are in the drawers."

"Okay."

She took the drain, then got out. Grabbing a towel from the drawer, she effectively dried herself. Then she took a handful and started applying the cream throughout her whole body.

When she was finished, she wore the undergarments Fatima had brought along with the dress, then the white dress. The fabric felt heavenly on her cool skin. The dress was sleeveless and reached right above her knees. She simply loved it. She untied her hair, and let the black silk cascade down her back. She then wore her white sandals.

She left her previous clothes and went out, leaving the cream beside the bottle of oil in the bathroom.

"Honey, you look marvellous. The colour suits you greatly. Keep the dress, it's a gift from me," she gasped.

"Thank you," she looked at the floor.

"Oh, you're welcome. Now let's go."

She lead her back to Samara's room.

"Welcome back! I hope you enjoyed your stay at the maid's quarters, they're great girls. Now shall we start?" Samara said enthusiastically, while she cringed inwardly when she mentioned 'maid's headquarters'. Even back home she never liked them being called 'maids'. They were all equals, after all.

She nodded, took the seat right in front of the older woman, then she started doing her magic on her hands.

**********

She was awe-struck. she was speechless. Her hand was marked with the most alluring of drawings.

"Oh, it's even more stunning on your delicate hands," murmured Fatima more to herself.

"It's like it's made for her," said Samara in awe.

"Thank you Samara for your delightful work," Fatima said sincerely.

"It's my job, my queen," she bowed in respect.

"Alright, Layla, let's go to your room. You will need your rest," she smirked slightly, and as we left to her room she kept on wondering the actual meaning behind her words.

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This is the first chapter of my second book Arabian Night. It took me a while to get it done since I had no inspiration.

Next chapter is going to be more on the feelings side. Maybe reminiscing old memories, Layla's thoughts. Stay tuned, and enjoy.

Love,

Rosanne