Not Solomon

Scheherazade moved to the window. She patted the cushion beside her.

-Come sit.

The king approached. He sat. The distance between them was small. He took her hand. He squeezed it gently.

-Tell your story.

She leaned into his side. Her warmth seeped through his robes.

-Long ago, a mighty sultan ruled. His heart was consumed by a lust for wealth. The land bled to fill his coffers. It was not enough.

She traced a line on the back of his hand.

-He heard of an artifact. Hidden in a mountain cave. He sent his most loyal soldiers. They found the cave. They found the jewel-encrusted box. But a curse befell them. Flesh turned to stone. Frozen in their greed.

The king listened. He did not let go of her hand.

-Only the youngest soldier escaped. He returned with nothing but the horror in his eyes. The sultan ordered his execution. Failure was not tolerated.

-What happened?

-The soldier requested a final boon. To spend his last night with the sultana.

She looked at him. Her eyes were dark pools.

-But force is not the only way to survive, my king. Sometimes victory requires cunning. Like the merchant and the lamp.

She shifted. The narrative changed tracks.

-A simple tradesman found a discarded lamp. He rubbed it. Smoke billowed. A genie appeared. Three wishes.

-A djin?

-Indeed. The merchant was wise. He did not ask for gold or eternal youth.

-I would have tried to bed the djin.

She laughed dryly.

-Prudence served him better. His first wish was for wisdom. Insight beyond his station.

The king leaned in.

-And the second?

-Enough wealth to live comfortably. To ensure his family wanted for nothing.

-And the third?

Her voice dropped to a whisper. Her lips brushed his ear.

-The devotion of one true partner. To share his joys and trials until death.

She pulled back. She searched his face.

The king stood up. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

-Your stories have given me much to consider. Like your merchant, I want wisdom.

-Wisdom is a noble pursuit. But remember King Solomon.

She touched his chest.

-Even the wise can be ensnared. Solomon succumbed to vanity. It led to his downfall.

-I want wisdom like Solomon prayed for. He also had three hundred wives and concubines.

-Bold words. Will you not fall prey to the same temptations?

She stepped closer.

-I won't take the idols of my wives. That was the root of his downfall. Not his overflowing love. Or his libido.

She smirked.

-Desire can be explored. Managed. Even controlled. Love is a different matter.