The two men at the table with the hookah are talking, with obvious approval, about the Sultan’s daughter (whom they cannot possibly have met)
…and, with something other than approval, about the Sultan’s mother, the Begum (who had better not become aware of their existence).
The men notice you eavesdropping.
FIRST MAN: “Oho, another stranger!”
SECOND MAN: “A fresh chicken for plucking!”
One of the men gets up from the table and approaches you. You don’t much care for his smile.
It’s just as well you’re wearing the cloak of obscurity. You really don’t like the look of these guys.
You are hopelessly outnumbered.
DISGRUNTLED VOICE: “Hey! Where’d she run off to?”
DISGRUNTLED VOICE: “Hey! Where’d he go?”
Boy, you really can’t take a hint, can you?
In case it has escaped your notice, you’re the only woman in the room. Better not draw attention to yourself.
These are not the kind of men you would want to strike up a conversation with. Better keep a low profile.
It isn’t that kind of tavern.
You get the strong feeling you’re not welcome here.
Maybe some water from the public fountain is what you really want.
Yes, wouldn’t that be fun? But keep in mind that there are MANY people in the room, and you really have no way of knowing what they would be turned into.
If the tavern patrons see the kinds of things you’re willing to get rid of, they may decide to find out what ELSE you’ve got stashed away.
