– I was instructed to make sure you at least eat something.
– Samira, I suggest you stop talking to me on “You”, okay? Just call me by name. You are not much younger than me. How old are you?
– Eighteen … – she answered uncertainly.
– Well, I’m twenty-four years old, so just call me Irina, okay?
– What are you, miss! – The fright in her eyes was sincere. – I cant. It’s impossible!
She put the tray on the stand and lowered her head.
– Look, – I sat, inviting her to sit next to me. She furtively looked at me. Her embarrassment was clearly written on her face, but she could not refuse me – it seems that I was stuck here for a while, so… it would be better if we did not complicate anything, okay? She nodded, staring at the floor. – By the way, you don’t know what I’m doing here?
– No, – she shook her head vigorously, – this is known only to Allah and… to our master.
– Your master… if he is not good, does not tell me anything, – I said with irritation, which made Samira smile. – Or do you know something?
The smile instantly disappeared from her face, and she shook her head again.
– It’s just… nobody ever talked about Mr. Ali like you did – she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.
– Yes, I’ll see you have strange laws here.
– But not for us, – she reached for the tray and laid it on my lap, opening the lid, under which there was a plate, presumably with soup, from which an unreal tasty aroma came. My stomach rumbled.
– By the way, Samira, why don’t you look at me? – I took a spoon and started to eat. Spicy, but no less tasty.
– It’s so customary with us. The position you occupy … – she stopped, – in general, I have no right to look at you for longer than a few seconds.
I put down the spoon, chewing on what I had already managed to put in my mouth, and looked at it, touching her hand.
– Listen… I understand. Traditions, customs, customs, but… I am different, and you can behave with me freely, I will not run to inform the prince, king or anyone else. – I started eating again. – Be my friend here, otherwise I will go crazy, waiting for departure home. Oh, how I want to go home if you only knew! Do you happen to know where my bag is?
– No, – she answered quickly, – I don’t know anything. I was only told to help you adapt here.
During the conversation, I did not notice how I ate everything that was on the tray.
– Thank you very much! It was wonderful.
Samira took the tray from my lap and put it on the stand.
– I will convey your gratitude to the cook. – He will be glad. – I nodded. – You should rest a bit, otherwise you would look tired.
– Thanks for the compliment. – I smiled when she saw how frightened she was.
– I’m not… sorry.
– You have nothing to ask for forgiveness for. I joked this unsuccessfully.
An embarrassed girl went out the door, and I lay on soft comfortable pillows, covering my chin with a light blanket. Delicious, satisfying food did its job, and I fell asleep again.
CHAPTER 8
I woke up from a demanding knock on the door. It turned out that I overslept for more than four hours, and now Samira came for me to have dinner.
– How are you feeling? – She went out onto the balcony with a businesslike look to open the curtains.
– All is well, – I replied, trying to stifle a yawn and straighten my shaggy hair. My face was wrinkled after sleep, and I tried to put it in order, but considering that my bag with a makeup bag and other important things disappeared without a trace, I had a hard time.
– Lunch is unofficial, so… what would you like to wear?
– Unofficially? – I looked out of the bathroom to clarify.
– Yes, that means no one will be present except you and Mr. Ali.
– Well … – I thought, – then choose the worst outfit for me. – She looked at me in bewilderment, and I returned to the bathroom. Having finished all the water procedures, I went into the wardrobe and looked appraisingly at the clothes chosen by my assistant. A linen milk dress of a closed type and a free cut that hides absolutely the whole body. Exactly what is needed! Now, of course, he will not look at me! I pulled on my dress, leaving my hair hanging loose. – By the way, I wanted to ask. Whose things are these?
Samira hesitated a little, buttoning buttons on my back, and when I turned to face her, she first looked into my eyes and clearly said:
– All this belongs to you.
– Funny. – I laughed soundlessly. – Hundreds of outfits and pairs of shoes, own room, personal assistant. I might think I’m going to live here.
I took a deep breath, adjusting the dress at the waist. It seems that on vacation I relaxed and gained a couple of pounds. You will need to go to the gym again as soon as I get home.
Samira took me to the dining room, which turned out to be a large spacious hall with a high ceiling. The abundance of dark and brown pieces of furniture and interior made me a little uneasy. Everything looked too gloomy. A large massive dining table was covered with a huge number of plates and other utensils. Almost simultaneously, Mr. Ali himself entered.
– Good evening! – He slowly came so close to me that through the dress I felt the heat of his body. This tall, formidable man with a serious appearance, but with a completely frivolous look, right now rose above me in every sense.
– Good … – I held his gaze, feeling the weight in my chest. I and this stranger in a huge house under the impregnable guard and staff of domestic servants, who unconditionally obey him.
– You look wonderful.
I almost laughed. Is he joking or what? Although it can be said in his eyes that he is not lying. But… for me his opinion means absolutely nothing.
Thank you. You look good too. – I said it casually, examining him. A snow-white shirt, light trousers and bare feet. His appearance was hooligan. The shirt shaded his swarthy skin and dark eyes.
– Thank you. – He reduced the distance between us by one more step. – Good … – he pointed to the seat at the table, while his eyes were fixed on me. – Please sit down. It’s time for lunch.
He led me to my place and pulled my chair, then went around the table and sat opposite me. I felt my heart beating. Taking a deep breath, I decided to focus on what was on the table, namely, a lot of plates with olives, herbs, various cakes, vegetable stew, some kind of porridge and many other dishes that I did not know.
We looked at each other, and Ali gestured that I can start eating.
– I was told that you eat badly. – I took a brief look at the unflappable prince, who took the cutlery and answered my opinion with questioningly raised eyebrows, waiting for my excuses.
– No appetite. – I pointedly pushed the plate away, looking anywhere, but not at him.
– You