Zuleika went to her father and knelt before him, taking his hands in hers and pressing them to her heart. "Good day, my father," she said sweetly to him.

"Get up, my daughter, and come and sit with me," the sultan said in his reedy voice. "Haroun has spoke with you, I can tell, for your eyes are stormy no matter that your mouth smiles at me."

Zuleika laughed, rose gracefully, and sat by her sire's side. "Haroun is not fit to rule Dariyabar, father," she began. "You know in your heart that his only interest in our land is the riches it can bring him. He will ultimately drive the people to misery." She sighed. "I will do what you desire of me, father. However, for my sake, as well as for the prestige of Dariyabar, I beg you that I go to Amir Khan as his wife, not his concubine. I am your daughter, and the daughter of a princess. I am not some slave girl!"

"Haroun says you are a gift, and we cannot attach conditions of any kind to a gift," the sultan said in a voice that indicated his confusion over the matter.

Zuleika realized then and there that it was useless to argue the matter further with her father. Haroun had convinced him of what lie must do, and being a male it was his word that would prevail over hers despite the fact her father loved her. Her facile mind was already forming a plan of action. "It will be as you wish, my father," she told him meekly. "But would you permit me a boon?"

"I will give you whatever you desire, my daughter," the sultan said, eager to please Zuleika under these circumstances. He had to trust his heir's judgment in this matter, and yet he was not certain he was really doing the right thing.