It didn’t occur to her that she should speak.
Not because she believed in deferring to her father on such important matters, but because she preferred simply to listen. To listen to Aki. To hear his words and let them trickle over her, like honey falling from a spoon.
“Ellie? Do you promise me that this is truly what you wish?”
She focussed her attention back on her father. “Yes, Papa. I truly wish it.”
Not only did she wish it, she found she almost couldn’t wait.
“Well, my child, my blessings are yours.”
She nodded, and though her tummy was filled with butterflies, she found herself reassuring him. “Have I ever done anything I didn’t truly desire?”
His laugh was gentle. “No. I remember the time you were due to dissect a toad in science lessons. How you managed to shimmy your way out of that tiny window is a mystery to me.”
“It wasn’t the shimmying out the window that took courage, so much as the ten foot drop to the ground.”
“Ah, yes. You overcame your paralysing fear of heights to escape examining an animal that was already dead.”
She compressed her lips mutinously. “It was not dead. It was sedated. And it was only going to be dead if I did the assignment.”
He laughed at the memory of his ever-spirited daughter. “I shall never forget that phone call. I thought you were going to be expelled!”
“I can’t believe I was the first student to balk at such cruelty.”
He sighed. “That has always been you, my darling girl. So soft-hearted and kind. A true gem.”
She shrugged impishly. “Well, what can I say? I am pretty perfect.”
“Don’t let your mother hear me agree with you. She always says I am wrapped about your little finger.”
Eleanor nodded. “As I am about yours, Papa. Now, if we keep talking like this, I will cry, and my make up will run. Please do not be uneasy on my behalf. I am marrying Aki because I wish it. I will be very happy, I promise you.”
It was hard to believe Eleanor knew what she was getting herself into, and yet her confidence made further probing impossible. Sufficiently reassured, Nasir slipped from the room, leaving his daughter standing alone in the midst of an enormous marble space.
She was the picture of bridal modesty. While she wore a Vera Wang gown, it had been modified to incorporate gauze that covered to her neck, and down her arms. The effect was stunning. At only five and a half feet tall, with a generous bust and hips, the dress emphasised her curves. She had chosen to eschew heels, preferring comfort over the agonising pinch of the gold dipped stilettos that had been selected for her. After all, even an inch of added height still left her at less than average stature. Eleanor would always prefer to be short and comfortable than slightly less short and in pain.
“Ready?” Michelle poked her head around the door, her pretty face looking happy, for once. It was in such stark contrast to her usual strained expression that Eleanor took in a deep breath.
“You look beautiful, Shell.” Eleanor moved towards her older sibling in a noisy swish of skirts and lace. The bridesmaids were all wearing emerald green – the national color of Talina. Michelle, with her tanned skin, long brown hair and green eyes, looked like a supermodel.
Unlike Eleanor, Michelle was tall. Without heels, she stood at six feet. She was also slender as a beanpole, straight up and down, no curves to make men leer in the way Eleanor had long endured. Like all sisters, both envied what the other had been genetically blessed with. How Michelle wished she had Eleanor’s voluptuous chest; how Eleanor cursed her curves when she tried on clothing.
“Look who’s talking,” Michelle said, lifting her sister’s hands and holding them outwards, so that she could admire the full effect of the dress.
“You don’t think it’s too… much? Too princess puff?”
“Not princess puff, no,” Michelle said with a shake of her head. She dropped Eleanor’s hands so that she could lift her fingers to the diamond crown that sat heavily on Eleanor’s coffee colored hair. “Just perfect. You look like a real princess. And you look completely beautiful.”
“A princess.” Her eyes widened in her expressive face. “Oh, God. Now I’m nervous.”
“You’re made for this. Aki is a lucky, lucky man.”
Eleanor nodded distractedly. She looked down at the diamond she wore on her ring finger. It was the size of her thumbnail – five carats of pristine gem. “Dad thinks I’m doing this just for him.”
“Does he?” Michelle busied herself arranging Eleanor’s skirts behind her.
“Yes. I … get the impression he thinks it’s a mistake.”
Michelle straightened, coming to stand in front of her sister. She scanned her face thoughtfully. “You don’t make mistakes. You’re Eleanor.”
Eleanor let out a small breath of amusement. “And you?”
Michelle waved her hand in the air dismissively, but when she spoke, her voice was clogged with emotion. “Lots of mistakes. That’s us. Shelly and Ellie. Chalk and cheese.”
“You don’t make mistakes, Shell.” It was a lie. They both knew Michelle had made the worst mistake of her life when she’d married Jak Jorgensen.
“Papa is probably just worried because it’s very sudden. You and Arnaud only broke up a few months ago, and here you are about to marry someone else.”
Arnaud. Had it really only been a few months? She’d hardly thought of her ex-fiance. The man who had unceremoniously broken her heart. Or so she’d feared at the time.
“That was a farce,” she said with a shrug. “An obvious error in judgement. See? I do make mistakes after all. How could I have ever been taken in by his stupid lies?”
“We all were. And you didn’t make the mistake. You didn’t marry him. You got out before it was too late.”
“Finding him in bed with his housekeeper sort of gave me no choice, right?”
“What a pig.” She pulled a face, then made an obvious change of conversation. “Come on. Everyone is waiting. It’s time.”
“I’m ready.” And she was. She really was. Strangely, given that she’d only met Aki two months earlier, she didn’t have any doubts or worries about what she was doing. Talina was beautiful; and she felt a sense of belonging and connection to the country she’d never seen, but had heard of since birth.
Marrying royalty was hardly a casual affair. Besides her sister, she had seven other attendants – various cousins of Aki’s. There were also ten servants hovering around the women constantly, ready to arrange dresses and hold flowers as necessary. And in the middle, there was Eleanor.
Beautiful, petite, vibrant Eleanor.
Anyone watching the proceeding would have been forgiven for thinking she and Aki were a love match, for the way she glowed and grinned her way down the aisle. Her large, caramel eyes clung to him throughout the entire ceremony.
Unlike when he’d visited her in New York, he was dressed in a ceremonial Talinese outfit. A long white robe with gold thread embroidered in a detailed pattern around his neck and cuffs. Somehow, it made him look even more masculine, and to enhance his raw virility.
As the officiating cleric spoke, addressing the assembled group of guests, Eleanor had eyes only for her groom. His handsome face was severe; his concentration obvious. She hadn’t seen him for over two weeks.
And still, they had not kissed.
Except in her dreams. She’d fantasised and wondered about how his lips would feel on hers more times than she could count. More than that, she wondered what it would be like to make love to him. Did he know how innocent his bride was? Did he care? A brief frown flickered across her face. Unusually for a wedding such as theirs, it had not been mentioned. Perhaps he presumed that she and Arnaud had been more involved than was actually the case. After all, they’d dated for years, and been engaged for two. High school sweethearts.
She swallowed a small sound of disgust at the ridiculous image that painted. Eleanor had bought his ‘chastity
’ idea, hook, line and sinker. How refreshing it had been to be with a man who wasn’t interested in just getting her in bed. Who was happy to sit up late watching movies together, or reading books side by side, without immediately wanting to make it a seduction scene. She’d never felt pressured by Arnaud. Then again, she’d never felt particularly desired, either.
And all the while, he’d made her a laughing stock. How many women had there been? She’d stopped caring after she’d found evidence of four. It was enough. She’d been blinded by his lies, and she’d walked away without a backwards glance. How could she forgive him? He’d tried to apologise. To promise her that he’d change. But a man such as Arnaud was not capable of reform.
Like Jak. Her eyes drifted to her sister, who stood beside her as a beacon of support. Jak was in Aki’s wedding party, and it galled Eleanor to have him there. Oh, to the best of her knowledge, he’d never been unfaithful to Michelle. But there were other ways to hurt a person’s spirit. Such as denying them the baby they desperately wanted. Eleanor suspected his unwillingness to start a family boiled down to a possessive need to keep Michelle all to himself. Such was his obsessive need to control her. Eleanor shivered, and moved her dark eyes past Jak, towards Aki.
As they reached his best man, they stalled. Ryan someone or other. He was Australian, and kind. She’d only met him for a few minutes, so had only gathered a very short impression, but she’d liked him instantly. And it had given her more faith in the decision she was making. Eleanor believed one could tell a lot about a person by the friends they chose to surround themselves with. That Aki was close to someone like Ryan boded well for her.
And then, she looked at her groom; at the exact moment he looked at her. Their eyes met, his grey, hers brown. Inside her body, blood gushed like a torrent, pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears. His expression was inscrutable, but his eyes. Oh, his eyes were so expressive. They seemed to dance with thoughts and feelings – only she didn’t understand. It might take her years to truly understand his nuances. Delicious anticipation zipped through her. Getting to know him was a prospect she was joyous to have on her horizon.
Unlike western ceremonies, theirs did not conclude with a romantic kiss. But they touched. For the first time, it was more than an accidental brush. His fingers reached down and took hold of hers, and before the assembled guests, he lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. As he pressed a chaste kiss against the skin on the back of her hand, signalling to all present that she was his, his eyes held hers. And Eleanor thought she’d died and gone to heaven. If one small kiss on her hand could evince such a rush of feeling, what would it be like to be in his arms? And without hundreds of people watching?
She smiled up at him, a smile so full of wide-eyed innocence and trust that a normal man would have been powerless to resist her sweet entreaty. But he was no normal man. He was a ruler. Born to a long line of rulers. He turned away with a cold lack of response, and led her from the marble and gold wing of the palace. With each step, Eleanor couldn’t help thinking that she was moving into her future, and with Aki by her side.
“How do you feel, now that it’s over?” Katherine had taken her first opportunity to grab her daughter in a quiet moment. The party was in full swing. Eleanor had not really known what to expect, but if she’d been forced to describe what she anticipated, she would have said a staid, stately affair. And while it was certainly stately, the reception was anything but staid. One of Talina’s pop stars had taken to the stage and was singing a number of hits, while the younger guests danced the night away. Attendees were drinking fine champagne and the air of convivial excitement showed little sign of abating.
Eleanor did not need champagne though. Her insides were zipping with the certainty that soon, in a matter of hours at most, she and Aki would truly become married. A twenty four year old virgin, she had come to assume that she simply had no sex drive. She had not found it at all difficult to abstain from sex with Arnaud, despite the fact that he was physically attractive. If anything, she had felt a philosophical detachment about the whole thing. An academic curiosity, perhaps, but no bone-melting ache to be possessed by her then-fiancé.
But with Aki… one look and her insides seemed to slick with moist anticipation. Her whole body seemed to quiver when he came near, and she found it increasingly difficult not to throw herself into his arms.
“Happy,” she answered with a smile. “And relieved I did not trip, as I walked that long aisle.”
Katherine’s eyes was watery. “You were perfect. So beautiful. I was very proud of you, my darling.”
Eleanor put an arm around her mum’s waist. “You know, before I married Aki, I was a PhD student in International Law. That should make you more proud than the fact I married the Sultan of Talina.”
“Of course.” Katherine squeezed her daughter’s waist affectionately and simultaneously rolled her blue eyes. “Honestly, you’re such a stickler for this feminist business.”
“It’s not a ‘business’, mother, it’s an imperative on all women.”
“And that fits in with you marrying a stranger how, exactly?”
Eleanor’s smile was beatific. “Because I chose to marry him. Feminism is about choice. I was not forced to marry Aki. I was not paid to do so. And I am in no way uncomfortable with what lies ahead.”
“Good. Because I think your husband has the potential to be a difficult man.”
Eleanor put her head on her mother’s shoulder, and through the crush of people, she could make out Jak, and a rigid Michelle by his side. They were locked in conversation with a stuffy looking pair of men. In the midst of the celebrations, their group was sombre.
“I would say that, of your two sons-in-law, my husband will prove the least difficult.”
She felt Katherine stiffen beside her. “Yes. I think you are right.” Together they watched as Jak spoke with all the appearance of civility that they had, at one time, thought to be true.
“Nothing good comes of marrying a man at twenty years of age,” Katherine muttered with a disapproving shake of her head.
“Excuse me, Mrs Rami, would you care to dance?” Nasir seemed to have completely shelved his concerns about the authenticity of Eleanor’s marriage. His face was beaming with happiness and pride. As he led his wife towards the dance floor, Eleanor heard him say, “I never thought I would get to bring you home, my darling. To show you all the things about Talina that make it so special. This is the happiest night of my life.”
And Eleanor’s heart soared. She had done it. Somehow, she had fixed a great sadness in her beloved father’s life. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked fiercely. She didn’t want to be seen to be crying. She dipped her head forward and cut a path through the room easily. Amazingly, unlike most other weddings she’d been to, no one stopped the bride to speak to her. She was not just any bride though. She was royal, now. Queen of a powerful country.
The palace was, as one would expect, enormous. Built on the back of the wealth of the silk traders, it sprawled for over an acre. White marble that glistened in the sun and glowed in the moonlight stretched four stories tall. And atop the walls were dozens of cupolas, some marble, some gold, some copper. Eleanor wasn’t sure she’d ever get to understand the layout of the palace completely, but becoming familiar with her new country was a task she was looking forward to. One of her attendants made to follow her but Eleanor shook her head. “I just need a moment, please.”
“Madam, my duty is to accompany you…”
“No,” she shook her head and smiled disarmingly. “I am in the palace. Security guards are everywhere. If you wait here, I’ll come back in ten minutes.”
The attendant seemed to prevaricate, then finally nodded uncertainly.
“Excellent. Thank you.”
Ellie swished through the long, wide, deserted hallway. The artwork on the walls was stunning; impressionist masterpieces down one side, and ancient Talinese tapestries on the other.
Her feet made no so
und on the floor, as her flat shoes had a soft leather sole.
Half way down the corridor, she took an arch to the left, and then another to the right. She knew she was in the private wing now, because she remembered the portraits on the walls. She slowed her speed, and then stopped completely, to look at the gold framed, life-sized painting of Aki’s grandfather Amos. The man who had exiled her father.
He had died four years earlier. Long enough in the past to no longer feel animosity towards him; and yet she did. Hadn’t he realised that Nasir had no interest in pressing his right to the crown? Nasir was the last person in the world who would let ego and a need for power control him.
She stepped closer to the painting. Amos had been a large man, in stature. Similar to Aki. The same dark eyes stared down at her now from beneath beetled brows. She shivered. These eyes, in this face, seemed capable of great cruelty. She moved away quickly. Somewhere along here was the room she’d used to get ready in hours earlier.
She approached the door and then stopped walking. Voices drifted from across the hallway. Recognising Aki’s, she edged closer. It had not been her intention to eavesdrop. More of an instinctive curiosity. And had she not heard her name mentioned, she would have stepped away again swiftly. Craning against closed doors to catch whispered conversations was definitely not Eleanor’s style.
“Eleanor is not a bride I would have chosen for myself, and you know it.”
Was it possible for a heart to explode and yet for a person to remain breathing? She gulped and leaned a little closer.
Ryan’s thick Australian accent was unmistakable. “You hardly know her.”
“I know enough,” he muttered darkly.
“Yeah? Like what?”
She heard Aki’s heavy exhalation. “I know that she is motivated by a love of wealth and prestige. I know that she is dumb – for how blindly she walked into this union.”
Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees... Page 63