Princess Sultana's Circle

childish mannerisms brought many smiles from the watching
crowd.
    Once the dancers had
circled the throne-like platform, they proceeded to dance
themselves into a musical frenzy. This was the signal that the
bride was making her way through the hall. As a short woman, I
needed to stand on my toes to improve my view.
    Munira walked slowly down
the lengthy hall. She was dressed in a soft peach lace wedding
dress. Her gloomy face was lightly covered by a sheer peach veil.
Rhinestones sewn into the fabric of the veil reflected back off the
room’s lighting, achieving a dramatic twinkling effect that her
eyes could not project. The heavy train of her dress was carried by
young teenage cousins, who ranged in age from thirteen to nineteen.
These girls were adorned in hideous orange satin costumes surely
not of their choosing.
    Overwhelmed by the swirl of
misarranged colors of flowers and costumes, I thought this to be
the most unappealing wedding I had ever attended. Everything about
this occasion was as mismatched as Hadi and Munira, themselves, the
bride and groom.
    Sara and I exchanged
incredulous looks. I knew that her thoughts were as
mine.
    When Munira walked past, I
caught a glimpse of her pale face. Her eyes showed no expression,
she looked straight ahead, an empty moment in time that seemed to
last forever.
    I felt wretched!
    Once Munira was seated on
the dais, the moment I so dreaded had finally arrived. The time had
come for the arrival of the groom.
    The loud voices in the room
soon diminished to loud whispers.
    Hadi, escorted by one of
his brothers, walked toward the hapless Munira. Ali and a bearded
Mutawwa followed closely.
    Munira was staring evenly
at Hadi. A terrible pain flashed across her face, but the moment
was fleeting. Knowing that she had been ensnared like an animal,
and that there was no hope of release, Munira appeared courageously
determined to maintain her dignity.
    Hadi was not returning his
bride’s gaze, as would most grooms who are in view of the one they
are to wed. Instead, he was looking hungrily at the uncovered faces
of the female guests! Obviously the years had not changed him. He
appeared to relish the rare opportunity to steal a long licentious
look at unveiled women in an officially sanctioned setting. Had
adulthood only reinforced the man’s depraved nature?
    Shocked at his salacious
stares, the women responded in a low murmur of scandalized
voices.
    Sara clutched my arm so
tightly that her fingers grew white. I knew she was afraid that I
would pull from her grip, rush toward Hadi, and hit him with all
the force I could gather.
    It was hard to believe that
things could get worse, but I had already made a quick decision
that should Hadi give me a flirtatious look, I would spit in his
face, then inform this crowd of royal ladies of all that I knew of
this man.
    The assemblage was saved
from that exciting scene, for just as Hadi arrived at the place
where we were standing, he tore his eyes away from the crowd and
looked toward his neglected bride. A delighted smile crossed his
face. He was indeed a fortunate man.
    Nothing surprised me more
than to observe that Hadi had barely aged from the time of our trip
to Egypt so many years before! Surely, one so evil should have
degenerated into an ugly, wizened man! I had anticipated a
corrupted appearance, but that was not the case. While Hadi had
grown more stout, his face was still youthful. Who would guess that
beneath Hadi’s smooth skin lay the heart of a brute?
    A bitter thought passed
through my mind. Our young girls are forced to sacrifice their
youth so that men such as Hadi can feed on their beauty! It is by
devouring young girls that such men remain robust! I was forced to
hold back my tears.
    Hadi joined Munira on the
wedding platform, much pleased with himself.
    I watched Ali as he made
his way to the bridal pair’s side, but then turned away. I mentally
disassociated myself from him, my blood brother.
    The official wedding
ceremony had been conducted earlier in the week with the immediate
families in attendance, although the bride and groom had not
appeared in the other’s presence. This occasion was for the purpose
of celebration only.
    Nura tried to force Sara
and me to join our sisters in offering our good wishes to the bride
and groom, but that we refused to do. How could we mimic gladness
when one of the most immoral men we had ever known now claimed sole
ownership of a sweet and innocent young woman of our own flesh