Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia

indifference, quieted me and I
sat, humming a tune, as one unconcerned, while Kareem finished his
dressing. He opened the bedroom door and left me with this parting
thought: "Sultana, you know, you deceived me with your warrior’s
spirit, hidden behind the smile of a woman.”
    After he departed, I lay in the bed and
sobbed until I was exhausted.
    Noorah coaxed me to the table of peace and we
settled our differences with gestures of love. She sent one of her
drivers to the jewelry souq to purchase a diamond necklace for me.
I hurriedly traveled to the gold souq and purchased the most
expensive gold breast-plate necklace I could find. I spent more
than SR 300,000 ($80,000) and cared little what Kareem would say.
Now I saw the possibility of peace with a woman who could cause me
endless grief should my marriage be saved.
    Weeks passed before Muneer’s fate was
decided. Once again, the family saw no benefit in publicizing the
misadventures of the royal sons. The wrath of the king was somewhat
tempered by the efforts of my father and various princes who sought
to downplay the incident as one of a foolish young man recently
influenced by the evils of the West.
    Noorah, thinking that I had somehow
influenced my father, was grateful and responded by exclamations of
the joy in her heart for having such a one as I as her
daughter-in-law. The truth was never revealed: that I spoke not a
word to my father. His interest stemmed from the very real fact
that I was married into the family and he did not desire
association with Kareem’s brother should a scandal arise. His
concern was for himself and Ali. Even so, I was thoroughly pleased
at the outcome and was a heroine, admittedly undeservedly, in my
mother-in-law’s eyes.
    Once again, the mutawas were quieted by the
king’s efforts. King Faisal was held in such high esteem by the
Religious Council that his appeals were heard and heeded.
    Muneer was brought into his father’s business
and sent to Jeddah to manage the new offices. To buy off his
discontent, he was awarded large government contracts. Within a few
months, he told his father he wanted to wed, and a suitable cousin
was found and his happiness increased. Within months he began to
gain weight and joined the ranks of the royal princes who live for
the deal of making more and more money until their bank accounts
overflow and produce enough income from the interest to rival the
budgets of small countries.
    Kareem had moved into a separate bedroom the
day of our conversation. Nothing his mother or father could say or
do persuaded him to reconsider our decision to divorce.
    Much to my horror, one week after our
estrangement, I discovered I was pregnant. After much
soul-searching, I decided I had no option but to abort my
pregnancy. I knew that Kareem would never agree to a divorce if he
discovered I was with child. But one such as I had no use for a
husband under duress.
    I was in a dilemma, for abortions are not
common in my land—many children are desired by most—and I did not
have the slightest clue where to go and whom to see.
    My investigation was delicate. Finally, I
entrusted my secret to a royal cousin who informed me that her
younger sister had become pregnant the year before while
vacationing in Nice. She had been unaware of her condition and
returned to Riyadh. Her fear of her father finding out was such
that she had attempted suicide. The mother had shielded the
daughter’s secret and had located an Indian physician who, for
excessive fees, performed abortions for Saudi women. I carefully
planned my escape from the palace to the offices of the
abortionist. Marci was my confidante.
    I was waiting, despondent, in the physician’s
office when a red-faced Kareem burst through the door. I was a
veiled woman among other veiled women, but he recognized me by my
unusual silk abaaya and my red ltalian-made shoes. He pulled and
pushed me through the door, screaming to the receptionist that the
office had best be closed immediately for he, Kareem, was going to
see the doctor in prison.
    I was smiling beneath my veil and in the best
of tempers as Kareem alternately professed his love for me and
cursed me. He glittered and he glared! He cast away my fears of
losing him as he vowed that he had never considered divorce; his
stance was merely a combination of pride and anger.
    Kareem had discovered my plan when Marci
divulged the secret to another maid in the house. This maid had
gone directly to Noorah, and my