Chapter XII

It had been two months since he had started working at Prince Waleed’s palace. He had not actually met the Prince yet, but he knew enough about him through the poisoned whispers of the others who worked at the palace, and he judged him and the rest of his family, and their strange behaviours, mercilessly. He felt that they had everything, and never needed to worry about anything, unlike him, or Mr. Salama, or Ismail. They could do anything they wanted, and go anywhere they liked, whenever they pleased. He had met the Prince’s children, whom he found to be very intelligent, friendly, and welcoming. When they walked around the palace, they always moved slowly, and lazily, as they were never in a rush to get anywhere. Life, to them, was an inescapable prison of formalities and repeated experiences. Nothing to them was ever new, or exciting, and any small achievement they ever hoped to accomplish in their lives, was always made insignificant by the colossal size of the status they were born into.

As he walked down the giant, blue, hallway that made him feel dwarfed and irrelevant, he felt the constant tear in his mind and his heart that caused him to resent the Prince and his family in one moment, and in the next, want desperately to become one of them. He tried to convince himself that wealth and status were not important, and that a man, is instead, judged by his character. But then, he would wonder if, say, he were to one day fall in love with the Prince’s daughter, would he ever be accepted? If he could prove impeccable character, and talent, and all the qualities that he had always aspired to, would the Prince embrace him as a husband to his daughter? Or, instead, would he laugh at his request and brush him aside, like some unimportant dust?

His mind was riddled with nests of questions, and they would never end, so he decided instead to think about something else. He thought about Sultan’s apartment. He thought about, how he had been outraged with Sara, when he discovered the nature of what she and the rest of his friends had been doing. He thought about how he hadn’t talked to Sara for an entire week – something he had never done before. Finally, he thought about the hypocrisy he felt, when, after only a week, and after having a particularly bad day, and getting into an argument with Ismail, he made his way to Sultan’s new apartment, and joined Sara and his friends.

He now reached the door of Prince Waleed’s study. He had been summoned here, and was about to meet the Prince for the first time.

He knocked on the door and waited for a response. Upstairs, he caught a glimpse of the Prince’s wife, who always tried to look happy, whenever there was anyone around. He could see the anxiety in her eyes – an anxiety which he was now well acquainted with. They both wanted the same thing – she was waiting for Sultan to arrive, who always supplied her with the white, powdery escape, and he couldn’t wait to be done with the day, so he could return to Sultan’s apartment.

“Enter”, a voice announced from behind the door.

He opened the door and walked into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

The Prince was sat behind a large wooden desk, leaning back on his chair in a very relaxed manner. On his desk were a cup of tea, and a slice of cake.

“You must be Thalam, the new letter-writer”, said the Prince.

He nodded.

“I need you to write me a letter to Lady Miriam Grosvenor”, he said, looking out of the window. “I met her niece once, Lyla - truly wonderful girl. Never did belong among her kind, though.”

The Prince laughed.

“You know, we were on a train when we met, she was impossible not to notice. She was in a loud argument with the train conductor, when I went to see what all the commotion was about, it appeared she had refused to sit in the first class seat she had been assigned. She wanted to sit in the Standard class.”

“She liked to sit with the poor people. Their lives are so much simpler. Among them, there is no distinction of class, or wealth, or title – they all see each other as equal, and, whenever it is needed, they always help each other. Always.”

The Prince now looked directly at him, and gestured for him to occupy one of the seats across from his desk.

“Last I heard of her, she had intended to cross the Arabian Peninsula - a dream of hers, I suppose.”

Thalam sat down.

“Isn’t it a shame how many people don’t ever get the chance to follow their dreams?” asked the Prince.

“Not everyone has the luxury of wealth and status, your highness”, responded Thalam.

“And, you think that, this wealth, and status, would allow people to chase their dreams, eventually finding that which provides them with happiness?”

“Well, yes, your highness”

“Then you are a fool, my child”, he said. “Do not join the ranks of all of the subjects and servants and guests of this palace. They are all envious of the wealth and status of the family whom this home belongs to, because they do not understand.”

He paused for a moment before speaking again.

“It is human nature to always choose the path which is easiest, even if it is not the best one. You can never understand this difficulty, because the path of suffering has already been forced upon you – you have no choice, you were born into struggle, and so you must fight every day, to gain a little more. Like you, we also had no choice in being born into what we are. The difference is, that we were forced into a path absent of all suffering. That, in itself, my child, is the greatest form of suffering there is.”

The Prince was looking him in the eyes with a deep intensity, seeming as if wanting to make him understand something of incredible importance, that he did not yet understand.

“The poor, I do my best to help them, but it seems, all I can ever manage, is to donate food. However, I am expected to do more. Tell me, how can any one person be expected to relieve others of their suffering, when there exists no person at all, that can even begin to comprehend their own suffering, let alone resolve it? Yet, we all have a choice, and in this, I have not always made the right ones. I am envious of them. You see, the poor are sentenced to a different kind of suffering, to them, their concerns are well-understood – they worry about whether or not they have enough food, and how best to educate their children, and pay rent, and, because, they all collectively share the same concerns, together, they suffer as one, and so, they share together, the burdens of life, and suddenly, the weight is not so heavy anymore.”

“My wife, is unwell, and not to be blamed”, said the Prince. “Unlike our children, and myself, she was not born into this circumstance. Her fault, was that she loved a man, and accepted his ring, not fully understanding that it carries the weight of a heavy name, and that she would be forever bound to it, and so will those whom she will love most in this world – her children. She carries a great deal of pain in her heart, but for the sake of our children, and out of her love for them, she pretends otherwise.”

“My children, who were born into this suffering, find great difficulty in discovering the purpose of their lives. What point is there to life, if everything is simply handed to you? They suffer, and sometimes, because they are children, there is a light that shines in their eyes, and for a few weeks, maybe even a month, they become motivated, and find passion in something. My wife and I, we know that it never lasts, but as parents, and because we love them very much, encourage their brief passions, with a desperate hope that perhaps this time, our children might finally escape the excruciating weight of their wealth, and status.”

Prince Waleed took a sip of his tea.

“What is the greatest love one can receive, Thalam? Do you know? It is not the one taken from a lover, or a spouse, but it is the love shared between a child and their parent, would you not agree?”

He nodded.

“My children and I, we have lunches and dinners together, and I do not burden them with breakfast, because I know they hate rising early. A father’s responsibility is to provide for his children – but they do not need me, they will always have more than they ever need, by virtue of their birth right. I love them very much, and I worry, that if I burden them heavily, they may cease to love their father. The important things in life, Thalam, are not status and wealth. The things that bring happiness, are family, and love, and if you have these things, and if you have enough to eat, and a place to sleep, then you have gained the world. He who is content with what is little, has gained a lot.”

“Anyway”, said the Prince. “Enough of this, the letter, write to Lady Miriam that we have still not received news of Lady Lyla’s whereabouts, and that Grosvenor House remains her property alone, as per the will of her father, and as such, is under the protection of the crown, and shall remain so, until her return.”

Thalam felt guilty that he had, at one point, judged the Prince and his family. He learned never to judge another soul, before understanding it, and that no soul, no matter who it belonged to, was free from suffering. He tried not to judge Lady Miriam, either.