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The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

2

O

NCE

upon a time, in a rose-scented garden in the shadow

of the Zagros Mountains, the Prince of Isfahan sat on the
grass, his eyes closed in meditation. His long, dark hair blew
gently in the breeze that wafted through the fragrant orange
groves. Dressed in fine purple silks, his skin shone like the
surface of the moon, and his broad chest rose and fell with
each deliberate breath. But despite the beautiful evening and
the lush cocoon of the trees and flowers, the Prince’s heart
was heavy and his soul was lonely, for this day marked the
fifth anniversary of his wife, the Princess’s, death.

Each night since her death he had let his dreams wash

over him, allowing them to lift the fog of sorrow for just a
short time. In his dreams he was no longer alone, and his
heart was alive with joy and peace. But each morning he
would awaken and the dreams would fade, replaced once
more by pain and emptiness.

I wish to die, he thought. I wish to leave this world of

pain and lie beside her once more.

“Is death truly your wish?” said a voice from nearby.

“Who are you, that you dare interrupt my solitude?” the

Prince demanded.

The stranger smiled at him: a man with hair the color of

fire, a face both handsome and defiant, with brown eyes full
of challenge. The Prince thought him vaguely familiar,

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although he could not remember when or where they might
have met before.

“I am Jinn,” the man replied, unmoved by the Prince’s

wrath. “I am called Tamir, and I will grant your wishes.”

“Wishes?” the Prince inquired. “What need have I of

wishes? I have everything a man could possibly desire.”

“And yet you asked for death a moment ago, my Prince,”

the Jinn responded. “For a man with everything, your heart
is quite tumultuous.”

The Prince frowned, his deep blue eyes reflecting

profound pain despite the hardness of his gaze. “If you can
see into my heart, then you know that my pain cannot be
assuaged. Unless you can bring back the one I love, you can
give me nothing of value.”

“I cannot raise the dead,” the Jinn agreed. “But perhaps

I can offer you a measure of solace, so that your life will not
be lived in misery.”

“You cannot grant me even that,” the Prince replied,

unmoved by these words.

“Is that so?” inquired the Jinn. “Then if I can prove to

you that your life is worth living, will you grant me my own
wish?”

The Prince eyed the Jinn warily. He had heard of the

deceitfulness of magical beings. But what harm can there be
in such an agreement? I have nothing to lose but my life, and
that is worth little to me.

After a moment, he responded, “I shall allow you to

The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

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prove my life’s worth. And should you succeed, I will grant
you your wish if it is within my power.”

“Good,” the Jinn replied. “Then let us leave this place,

and I will open your heart.”

The garden vanished and the Prince found himself in a

large market square, surrounded by throngs of his people.
He recognized the buildings—he had been here before on his
journeys from the castle to the mountains, although he had
never stopped here—the Shahi Bazaar.

The market-goers did not recognize him. This did not

surprise him; he rarely had been seen outside the castle
since the Princess’s death. He walked among the people and
watched the vendors call out their wares. He followed the
Jinn to a small stall at the edge of the market, where an
elderly woman sold fruits and vegetables.

“I would like a plum,” the Jinn ventured, handing the

withered woman a silver coin.

“We have no plums, handsome sir,” she said sadly. “The

groves are dry and there is no water to spare.”

“Are your groves not being nourished by the waters of

the Zayandeh River?” demanded the Prince.

“The King has not seen fit to allow us to water our

groves,” the woman replied.

The Jinn asked, “And what of the Prince?”

“What of him, sir? He died five years ago, following the

Princess to the afterlife.”

The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

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The Jinn whispered to his companion, “The canals

which carry water to the fields were your idea, my Prince.
After your death, the King did not see fit to maintain them.”

Tamir gestured for the woman to keep the coin. “You

were a kind and generous ruler,” he continued. “But the
King’s heart was hardened upon your death and in his grief,
he has forgotten his people.”

A group of ragged children ran past them, chased by a

merchant. There were shouts as other vendors joined the
chase. At the front of the group was a dirty-faced girl,
barefoot and small. The Jinn stepped into the fray and the
little girl collided with him. He grabbed her by the back of
her ragged dress and she flailed about, trying to free herself
from his grip. She looked thin and hungry.

“Let me go!” she shouted.

The Prince paled. He knew this girl from the

orphanage—he himself had saved her from the filthy streets,
years before. “But why are you not at the Princess’s
Orphanage, where you would be fed and clothed?” he asked.

“Orphanage? It no longer exists!”

The Prince glared angrily at Tamir. The Jinn said

nothing, but released the little girl, who ran off and
disappeared into the crowd.

“The Orphanage was the Princess’s dream,” the Prince

said angrily. “I myself had it built!”

“After your death, my Prince, there was no one to

continue your work there,” the Jinn replied, his gaze fixed on

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the Prince’s cold blue eyes. “The children are better off here,
where they can steal food, than left to starve in an empty
building.”

“My sister Sabihah was to oversee the Orphanage,” the

Prince insisted.

“But she no longer lives in Isfahan,” answered Tamir.

The marketplace vanished and they now stood in the castle
before the door to his sister’s residence.

The Prince, disbelieving, opened the door to find an

empty, dust-filled room. He placed his hands on the Jinn’s
shoulders and shook him. “What have you done with her?”
he demanded.

“After your death, she could not bear to remain in this

place. She is to be married to a bridegroom of the King’s
choosing—the Sultan of Pahang.”

“You lie. She loved a young student,” the Prince replied

with conviction. “I was to secure the King’s blessing for their
marriage.”

“I speak only the truth.”

With a wave of the Jinn’s hand, the room disappeared.

Before them, Princess Sabihah sat at a dressing table as her
servant brushed her long, dark hair. “There was nothing you
could have done to prevent his death, Princess,” the servant
girl told her softly.

“I left him alone,” Sabihah said, gazing out the window

at the mountains beyond. “I feared for my brother’s heart,
and yet I did nothing. I am ashamed that I could not save

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him.”

“Sabihah,” the Prince said softly. “I never meant you to

suffer on my account.” But the Princess did not answer; she
could not hear his words.

“Sabihah,” he said again. “Sabihah, I promised that I

would care for you, that I would keep you safe, and that I
would ensure your happiness.”

“She cannot hear your words, my Prince,” said the Jinn.

“She suffered your pain as her own, in spite of all the gold
and jewels that were bestowed upon her. She would have
traded them all for your happiness.”

The Prince was silent, his face pained to see his sister

suffer so.

“And what of the man you love?” the servant girl asked

as she set a jeweled comb in the Princess’s hair.

“The King has decreed that I must marry the Sultan.

Why should I find happiness when my brother suffered so at
the loss of his wife?”

The Prince’s eyes were damp with tears.

“This is the future your death has created, Your

Majesty,” the Jinn said, returning them to the gardens.

Before the Prince now stood a beautiful, dark-haired

woman, her face lit by a full moon. Tears ran down the
Prince’s cheeks as his eyes met those of his long-dead wife.
“Serena!” he cried. “You have come back to me!”

“Beloved,” she said as she brushed the tears from his

The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

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cheeks, “I never left you. I have always been in your heart
and soul.”

The Prince gathered her against him, wishing with all

his heart that she were real. But when he opened his eyes,
she was gone, as he knew she would be.

“I have no power to return her to you,” the Jinn said.

“Who are you?” the Prince asked again.

“I have already told you,” the Jinn replied.

“No,” the Prince persisted. “I have seen you before.”

The Jinn did not answer, but reached out and brushed

a strand of silken hair from the Prince’s eyes.

“I will grant you your wish,” said the Prince with

determination. “But first, you must grant me my wishes.”

The Jinn bowed deeply. “I am yours to command.”

“I wish to see my sister married to the man whom she

loves.”

“You shall have your wish,” answered the Jinn.

“I wish for my kingdom to prosper.”

“You shall have your wish,” answered the Jinn.

“I wish to know no more loneliness.”

“You shall have your wish,” answered the Jinn.

The Prince looked at the Jinn in surprise. “You can do

all these things, and yet you cannot revive the dead?”

The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

9

“No,” replied the Jinn, “I cannot. But in truth, I have no

need to grant any of your wishes.”

“Do you mock me now?” demanded the Prince.

“Hardly,” replied the Jinn. “But no magic is needed to

realize your deepest desires. All these things are possible
through you.”

The Prince said nothing.

“Do you not see, my Prince?” asked the Jinn. “You

yourself will give your sister the gift of marriage to the man
she loves. And your people will prosper at your generous
hand.”

“But you have not taken away my loneliness,” the Prince

challenged the Jinn.

“But that, too, is within your grasp,” the Jinn replied,

reaching for the Prince’s face and touching it lovingly. “For
you were correct—we have met before, in your dreams.”

“I remember you,” said the Prince as he took the Jinn’s

hand in his own and pressed it to his lips. “After the Princess
died, you held my hand when I could no longer bear the
pain. You kept this hand from plunging a dagger through my
heart.”

The Jinn breathed deeply. “I have waited for you, my

Prince,” he said. “I have never left your side.”

The Prince knew the words the Jinn had spoken to be

true, and his marble gaze began to crumble. Their lips met
silently, softly, their kiss deepening as the Prince’s heart
awoke once more.

The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

10

“I can end your loneliness,” the Jinn whispered, his lips

brushing against the Prince’s ear. “But there is no magic
here either. You must simply say the word, and I will stay
with you forever.”

The Prince shivered, but the cool night air was not to

blame. “I no longer wish to be alone,” he said. “Stay with me,
here.”

“Your wish is my command,” replied the Jinn. But the

only magic was the fragrance of the roses, the orange
blossoms, and the soft chirping of the insects in the trees.

“And what of your wish, Beloved? What is it that you

desire?”

The Jinn smiled. “I already have my wish. No magic

other than your heart’s desire was needed to grant it.”

And as the night deepened, the Prince found something

far more precious among the gold, silver, and gems. He
found the promise of true happiness, and the balm that
would begin to heal his broken heart.

The Prince and the Jinn | Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes

11

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In her last incarnation,

S

HIRA

A

NTHONY

was a professional

opera singer, performing roles in such operas as Tosca,
Pagliacci, and La Traviata, among others. She’s given up TV
for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes
anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her
Kindle.

Shira is married with two children and two insane dogs, and
when she’s not writing, she is usually in a courtroom trying
to make the world safer for children. When she’s not
working, she can be found aboard a 30’ catamaran at the
Carolina coast with her favorite sexy captain at the wheel.

Shira can be found on

Facebook

,

Goodreads

, or on her web

site,

http://www.shiraanthony.com

. You can also contact

her at

[e-mail]

.

The Prince and the Jinn ©Copyright Shira Anthony & Venona Keyes, 2011

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
382 NE 191st Street #88329
Miami, FL 33179-3899 USA
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Anne Cain [e-mail]
Cover Design by Mara McKennen

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 382 NE 191st Street
#88329 Miami, FL 33179-3899 USA http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

Released in the United States of America
October 2011

eBook Edition