Free Equal of the Sun by Anita Amirrezvani Page A

imagine what it feels like to have an internal organ stroked, to be caressed in a place never intended to see light. No such man will ever know the sensitivity of those tissues or how fiercely mine responded to her lips, like the leaves of a plant unfurling in response to heat. She lingered there until I came alive, but she would not stay. Her breath came to my lips again and she made her visit to each place that cried out for her. Yet now I could not stand her teasing. I rolled on top of her and opened my legs over her lips, astride her. Her tongue flicked out like an animal’s. She held on to the backs of my thighs while I twisted with pleasure. When I had experienced all I could stand, she stopped, and I sighed with the satisfaction of a man who has been cared for through and through.
    I grabbed a blanket and pulled it over me, not so much for warmth but because I didn’t want Khadijeh to see my groin exposed by the dawn. Sometimes when I was with her, I would dream that I still had all my parts, before waking up to the startling sight of my flattened pubis.
    On my cheek, I felt Khadijeh’s warm breath, and my bones became heavy with sleep. I allowed myself to doze for an hour in the comfort of her arms. How contented I would be if I could stay with her all night! I had been her secret companion for more than two years, but had never been able to wake beside her.
    While it was still dark, I awoke and dressed so that we would not be discovered. Khadijeh was sleeping soundly, her cheek resting in her hand. I pulled the bedcovers around her and whispered, “Good night, and may God bring us together again soon.” Then I tore myself away.

    The hammam for eunuchs was separate from that of men who might be disturbed by the sight of our flush pubic areas and our exposedtubes. It had small brick alcoves for washing and a large central pool with turquoise tile for bathing. The pool was surmounted by a dome whose windows let in sunlight and starlight. The hammam was deserted at that early hour, and I suspected that my arrival might have displaced a few jinn. After what had happened the day before, they would be wise to be more afraid of humans than we of them.
    To make the necessary Grand Ablution after sexual contact, I said the name of God and then washed my hands, face, arms, ears, feet, legs, and private parts, gargled and cleaned my head. My chin and cheeks felt rough, so I asked the bath attendant to give me a shave. Because I had been cut so late in life, my facial hair still grew, although more slowly than before.
    As I soaked in the hottest tub, I felt as if I were trying to cleanse myself of the gruesome scene I had witnessed. The hot water normally leached away all my worries, but not today. I would not feel safe until a new shah was in place, and yet, only a prince among men would do. I longed for a visionary, like Akbar the Great of the Mughals, who reenergized his huge bureaucracy, or Suleyman the Lawgiver, the statesman, conqueror, poet, and patron of the arts who steered the Ottomans to world-dominating splendor. Hope stirred in my heart at the thought of such a boon, yet how rare it was!
    After dressing, I made haste to attend on Pari at her house. She had donned her darkest mourning robes and was in her writing room applying her seal to a letter. Beside her lay an open book penned in exquisite calligraphy with illustrated pages. It was the Shahnameh.
    “Good morning, lieutenant of my life,” I said. “How is your health?”
    “Surprising,” she replied. “I still walk and breathe on this earth, unlike my poor father and his ill-starred son. I can hardly grasp that there are now two royal corpses in the palace, one of a son who may have killed his father, and one of a father whose erstwhile allies have killed his son. I have turned to Ferdowsi for guidance, but nowhere in the Shahnameh do I recall a like situation that could advise or console me in my grief.”
    “Princess, I remember that in the middle