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“Are you all right?” Adilan asked, his tone concerned.
She nodded, unable to speak.
“Good.” He called out in his native language to the hall beyond the door and soon a servant arrived with a bottle of water. Adilan cracked the lid open then held it to her lips while she drank. “Do you know who did this to you?”
She nodded again, still gulping the water.
“Who?” Adilan pulled the bottle away. “Tell me.”
“Hazim,” she croaked out.
Adilan cursed and straightened, walking back out into the hall to give more instructions to the servant, then returning to her side. He chaffed her abraded wrists and ankles with his hands, warming her chilled skin.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Nassir and I re-read your note. There was no pink pen, no little hearts. It was apparent you had not written it. After that, Hafa and the other servants helped us determine where you might be held.”
Janna snorted. “And you made fun of my pink leather planner that first day. Never thought it would save my life did you?”
“This is true.” He grinned up at her. “Sister.”
The sound of festive music filtered up from the garden and Janna and Adilan both rushed to the window. Nehla stood with Hazim at the end of a long red runner. Nassir waited at the other end, standing stoically next to the man who would perform their ceremony.
“He’s still getting married?” Janna looked over at Adilan.
“Not if we can help it. Not to Nehla anyway.” Adilan took her arm. “Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Adilan escorted her from the room and down the hall. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready, then down to the gardens before the vows are read.”
“But, I’m filthy and Nehla’s already walking down the aisle and…”
“You planned this wedding.” Adilan kept hold of her arm as they descended the stairs and headed back into east wing where her suite was located. “There are many things yet to happen before the big moment. Come, Hafa will be waiting to help you dress.”
Hafa met them outside the door to Janna’s room and gave her a big hug before taking over for Adilan.
“She needs to be dressed in her wedding attire and downstairs in ten minutes,” Adilan said to Hafa before releasing Janna with a wink. “Now hurry, if Nassir exchanges vows with Nehla all will be lost.”
Janna took the quickest shower of her life, then emerged to a flurry of maids, each with their own task. One curled and set her hair, another did her make-up, a third helped her slip into her dress. Even Hafa’s cousin was there to paint Janna’s hands and feet. The henna helped cover the bruises and welts on her wrists and ankles and Janna was forever grateful for the all of the women’s help.
Once she was primped to within an inch of her life, Hafa stepped back and finally allowed her to see her reflection in the full-length mirror. “What do you think?”
“Wow!” She looked at herself with wide eyes, amazed at the transformation in such a short time. She felt like a Disney princess in the gown she’d picked with the faint green threads especially woven through the ivory by the seamstress who’d explained it was their traditional color of holiness and fertility. Both things to be sought after during marriage. She turned to Hafa, “Thank you.”
“We need to go,” Adilan said, peeking his head inside the room once more. He gave Janna an appreciative once-over and smiled. “My brother is a very lucky man. Let us go remind him of that.”
Janna picked up her skirts and rushed down the stairs beside Adilan. “Where are they in the ceremony?”
“The soloist is playing a traditional wedding interlude.”
Janna calculated the time in her head. “We need to hurry.”
“Come.” Adilan took her hand and broke into a jog.
Janna laughed beside him. “I never imagined crashing my own wedding would be so enjoyable.”
Ch
