The atmosphere that morning was heavy, to say the least. As they were having breakfast all together in Aladdin's room, the prince could see that several of them seemed lost in their own thoughts.
Ali Baba had been quiet and merely stared down at his dagger without reaching for his food. Sindbad looked down as though scheming something, a goblet held in his hand, but not a single drop of the liquid in it had been drunk. And Jaber seemed restless and worried, as if he had left something brewing on the fire and would like to get it soon.
Ali Baba and Jaber made sense to him. One was thinking about the past of his father that he had just learned of, while the other had been concerned about the sick prince.
What truly troubled him was Sindbad.
He wished he could see beyond his cold eyes and into the man's mind.
He glanced at Harun, who shook his head in response, implying that he didn't know any better than him what his nephew was thinking of.
