Star of Persia

Sharareh walked slowly into the Spice Market.

The ancient Persian groats adorning her dress would leave no doubt that she was a woman of wealth.
Afshin the Turkish carpet seller had something she wanted. And she wasn’t leaving here without it.

From across the Bazaar he saw her. That look of determination on her face unmistakable.

Just then Sharareh looked up, and their eyes met.

Afshin excused himself from his present conversation and disappeared quickly behind a curtain in the back.

Sharareh picked up her pace and pushed past several people in the crowded Mall.
She bolted into the carpet shop, flew past the curtain and was immediately entangled in strong masculine arms.

Spitting Fire she struggled to be free.
“Where is it, Afshin? Where is My Father’s Map??”

Slowly the powerful arms let her go, Sharareh turned around to give her captor a venomous dressing down.

Only it wasn’t Afshin.

Sharareh pulled a concealed dagger from her robes, and brandished the bejewelled weapon at the rugged stranger.
After a long tense moment, he finally spoke.

“Afshin does not have your Father’s Map, and neither do I. But I know where it is.”

“Then why are you here? Was it you who sent for me?”

“I need you Shar. I’ve needed you for a very long time.”
The use of her childhood name in the palace took her immediately back to a bygone time.

“Who are you?!” she demanded.

“It matters not who I am. Just know that we both want the same thing. And this time, you’re going to have to trust me.”