"How do you find the city, Lady Angelica?" the gatekeeper asked on the way. Anzhelika - no longer even surprised that he knew her name and that she had recently arrived - answered:
"I haven't seen much of it yet, but overall the city looks very nice, the architecture is attractive."
The gatekeeper was silent for a moment, and then answered seriously:
"Jerusalem is our pride. Salah ad-Din will not give it to the enemy... and we will not give it either."
"I wish you luck," Anzhelika also became serious, "and I will also help where I can."

The guy wanted to add something else, but they had already reached the courtyard, and the girl saw the Sultan standing surrounded by warriors and giving orders to one of them.

In addition to a shirt and trousers, this time he was wearing chain mail, a heavy cloak hung from his shoulders, and a long straight sword in a scabbard was fastened to his belt. Anzhelika looked curiously at his face, at his serious eyes under slightly furrowed brows, glanced at his entire posture - he looked as if he could break away from his place at any moment - his businesslike, precise gestures. His voice was serious and restrained, although he spoke to the warriors in a rather soft tone. Anzhelika marveled at the contrast with their previous meeting. Yesterday he was although an energetic, but cheerful and relaxed man. Today, his appearance and tone left no doubt - he was a ruler and a military leader. And in this image he was also stunningly handsome, the girl thought, lingering in the shade of a tree.

Anzhelika waited for the Sultan to finish speaking and dismiss his subordinates with a gesture, and then came closer and called out to him:
"Salah ad-Din!"

He turned to look at her, his eyes flashing with surprise for a moment. It took Anzhelika a bit to realize that he was taken aback by her clothes - tight pants were not something customary here.

"Angelica! As-salamu alaykum," he responded joyfully, and the girl excitedly caught the attentive look of his dark eyes.
"Good morning. I visited the hospital, and I have a couple of ideas for improvement," Anzhelika said.

Salah ad-Din smiled warmly at her and nodded, gesturing for her to follow him. The girl followed him out of the courtyard and down some well-lit corridors, watching with curiosity as everyone they met along the way bowed and greeted them, both those dressed up and not so much. The Sultan responded to everyone's bow with a nod and to their greeting with a greeting. Anzhelika looked at him furtively with pleasure - his quick steps, his shoulders straightened, his chin slightly raised. His cloak was fluttering slightly behind his shoulders. It was not at all difficult for the girl to keep up with Salah ad-Din - her healthy lifestyle was having an effect.

Finally, the Sultan unlocked the door of some room and entered. Anzhelika followed him into a spacious room that was apparently his cabinet. The furniture consisted of a carved table of dark wood, a low table with a bowl of fruit on it, several armchairs, and a bookcase.

Anzhelika sat down on the wide windowsill, crossed her legs, and began:
"In general, the hospital is very good, there is a lot of space, and therefore, air..."

Salah ad-Din cast a fleeting glance at the girl's figure and then looked away, directing his gaze somewhere out the window, but Anzhelika managed to notice it. Looking with curiosity into the black eyes of the Sultan, which had suddenly become impenetrable, and at his long dark fingers, slowly twirling a silver ring on one of them, the girl continued:
"...But there is something that can be added to this. At my home, they really care about the cleanliness of the hospitals, they boil everything that can be boiled and wash everything that can be washed," Anzhelika was already enthusiastically describing her native healthcare, helping herself with gestures. "Wet cleaning is done every day. And this really bears fruit - so much infection is eliminated..."

Salah ad-Din took another quick look at Anzhelika. Her perfectly slender legs were hugged in pants of some kind of hard fabric that didn't hide a single line - from her graceful ankles and slender knees to her toned (and elastic for sure) thighs. An absolutely incredible sight. Usually, Salah ad-Din had to see only the outlines of the lower part of the silhouette, wrapped in airy fabric swaying as girls walked, and he could only guess what the figure was like - until the moment when the fabric fell to the feet of the beauty, revealing smooth skin. But Angelica was as if open and covered at the same time, close and far away. It was disconcerting. It was pleasantly disconcerting...

Salah ad-Din looked at her fair face, slightly marked by a golden tan, and her light eyes. The girl's dark eyelashes trembled for a moment under this slightly clouded gaze, and for a moment she faltered a little, but after a short sigh she continued:
"We had a nurse who invented all these rules with cleanliness, Florence Nightingale. And she reduced the mortality rate in hospitals from, like, forty percent to two..."
"Percent?" the Sultan asked, looking closely into Anzhelika’s eyes.
"A percentage is one hundredth," the girl explained. "Well, that is, a hundred people were admitted to the hospital - and instead of sixty, as was usually the case, ninety-eight came out alive..." Salah ad-Din raised his eyebrows slightly in amazement, and Anzhelika finished: "And it seems she even didn't have any moonsh... spirit back then. That's why I propose introducing such a system here too."
"Yes, of course," the Sultan answered seriously, rubbing his beard with his fingers, "that would be excellent."
"It will be," Anzhelika assured him cheerfully. There was something beautiful in this concentrated, thoughtful expression on the man's dark face. "And at the same time," the girl thought, "for some reason I incredibly want to distra-act him..."
"You can give any orders to the maids, Angelica," Salah ad-Din said confidently, “I will order them to be carried out strictly."
"Thank you," the girl responded with a smile.
"Thanks be to you," the Sultan replied and added: "There is one organizational issue on which I would like to know your opinion. Where would it be more convenient for you to live: in a separate house or here, in the palace?"
Anzhelika exhaled in admiration and answered immediately:
"If possible, then in the palace. It's closer... to work."

Did it only seem to the girl that Salah ad-Din's eyes flashed for a moment?.. But he immediately nodded and turned away, going out the door and calling the maid in the corridor. Briefly giving her instructions to prepare a room for Anzhelika, he returned to the girl and said to her slightly slyly:
"Move in and make yourself at home, Angelica. And after sunset, wait for me in the courtyard. I will have a gift for you."
"Wo-ow, what kind?!" Anzhelika exclaimed enthusiastically, but Salah ad-Din only put his finger to his lips and smiled cunningly. Anzhelika laughed and said, getting off the windowsill: "Well then, see you later!"

Wandering down the street to Kamal's house, the girl went through one option after another, but not a single fantasy turned out to be as wonderful as the reality that awaited her a little later...

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Abdul Latif ibn Yusuf al-Baghdadi (1162-1231) was a physician who worked for Saladin, including in Jerusalem in 1192.
Florence Nightingale (1820-1910) was a nurse, who invented sanitation and reduced hospital mortality from 42.7% to 2.2%.