‘It’s beautiful,’ Amy commented as they swept deeper into the desert. She’d said it more to herself, but Emir responded.
‘From a distance,’ Emir said. ‘But the closer you get …’
He did not finish. Instead he went back to staring broodily out of the window, replaying battles of the past in his mind, hearing the pounding hooves and the cries, feeling the grit of sand rubbed in wounds, history in every grain. Yet above all that he could hear her, reading a book to the twins, hear his daughters laughing as they impatiently turned the pages. He wanted to turn to the sound of them, to forget the pain and suffering, to set aside the past, but as King he had sworn to remember.
The heat hit Amy as soon as she stepped out of the helicopter. Emir held Nakia, while Amy carried Clemira and even though the helicopter had landed as close as possible to the compound of tents still the walk was hard work—the shifting soft sand made each step an effort. Once inside a tent, she took off her shoes and changed into slippers as Emir instructed. She thanked the pilot, who had brought in her suitcase, and then Emir led her through a passageway and after that another, as he briefly explained what would happen.
‘The girls will rest before we take them to the Bedouins. There is a room for you next to them.’
They were in what appeared to be a lounge, its sandy floor hidden beneath layer after layer of the most exquisite rugs. The different areas were all separated by coloured drapes. It was like being in the heart of a vibrant labyrinth and already she felt lost.
‘There are refreshments through there,’ Emir explained, ‘but the twins are not to have any. Today they must eat and drink only from the desert …’
Amy had stopped listening. She spun around as she heard the sound of the helicopter taking off. ‘He’s forgotten to bring in their luggage!’ She went to run outside, but she took a wrong turn and ran back into the lounge again, appalled that Emir wasn’t helping. ‘You have to stop him—we need to get the twins’ bags.’
‘They do not need the things you packed for them. They are here to learn the ways of the desert and to be immersed in them. Everything they need is here.’
‘I didn’t just pack toys for them!’ She could hear the noise of the chopper fading in the distance. Well, he’d just have to summon someone to get it turned around. ‘Emir—I mean, Your Highness.’ Immediately Amy corrected herself, for she had addressed him as she had so long ago. ‘It’s not toys or fancy clothes that I’m worried about. It’s their bottles, their formula.’
‘Here they will drink water from a cup,’ Emir said.
‘You can’t do that to them!’ Amy could not believe what she was hearing. ‘That’s far too harsh.’
‘Harsh?’ Emir interrupted. ‘This land is harsh. This land is brutal and unforgiving. Yet its people have learnt to survive in it. When you are royal, when your life is one of privilege, it is expected that at least once a year you are true to the desert.’
Where, she wondered, had the caring father gone? Where was the man who had rocked his tiny babies in strong arms? Who even last night had picked up his sleeping child just to hold her? Maybe she really had dreamt it—maybe she had imagined last night—for he stood now unmoved as Clemira and Nakia picked up on the tension and started to cry.
‘We will leave soon,’ Emir said.
‘It’s time for their nap now,’ Amy said. She was expecting another argument, but instead he nodded.
‘When they wake we will leave.’
‘Is there anyone to help? To show me where they rest? Where the kitchen …?’
‘It’s just us.’
‘Just us?’ Amy blinked.
‘There is a groundsman to tend to the animals, but here in the tent and out in the desert we will take care of ourselves.’
Oh, she had known they would be alone in the desert, but she had thought he had meant alone by royal standards—she had been quite sure that there would be servants and maidens to help them. Not once had she imagined that it would truly be just them, and for the first time the vastness and the isolation of the desert scared her.
‘What if something happens?’ Amy asked. ‘What if one of the girls gets ill?’
‘The Bedouins trust me to make the right decisions for their land and for their survival. It is right that in turn I trust them.’
‘With your children?’
‘Again,’ Emir said, ‘I have to warn you not to question our ways. Again,’ he stated, ‘I have to remind you that you are an employee.’
Her cheeks burned in anger but Amy scooped up the twins and found their resting area. Maybe he was right, she thought with a black smile. Maybe she needed time in the desert, for she was too used to things being done for her—a bit too used to having things unpacked and put away. And, yes, she was used to ringing down to the palace kitchen to have bottles warmed and food prepared. Now she had to settle two hungry, frazzled babies in the most unfamiliar surroundings.
The wind made the tent walls billow, and the low wooden cribs that lay on the floor were nothing like what the twins were used to—neither were the cloth nappies she changed them into. Emir came in with two cups of water for the girls, but that just upset them more, and when he’d left Amy took ages rocking the cribs to get the twins to settle. Her anger towards Emir rose as she did so, and it was a less than impressed Amy who finally walked out to the sight of Emir resting on the cushions.
He looked at her tightly pressed lips, saw the anger burning in her cheeks as she walked past him, and offered a rare explanation. ‘There are traditions that must be upheld. Sit.’ Emir watched her fingers clench at his command and perhaps wisely rephrased it. ‘Please be seated. I will explain what is to take place.’
It was awkward to sit on the low cushions, but Amy remembered to tuck her feet away from him. It was difficult facing him again after last night—not that he appeared to remember it, for his eyes did not even search her face. Really he seemed rather bored at having to explain things.
‘I understand that you think this is cruel, but really it is not …’
‘I never said cruel,’ Amy corrected. ‘I said it was harsh on the girls. Had you told me earlier what was to happen I could have better prepared them. I could have had them drinking from cups.’
He conceded with a nod, and now he did look at her—could see not just the anger but that she was upset, and on behalf of his children. ‘I know the year has been a difficult one. I am grateful the girls have had you.’
She was disarmed by his sudden niceness, forgot to thank him as she ought to, but Emir did not seem to notice. ‘I have not been looking forward to this. Which is why, perhaps, I did not explain things. I have been trying not to think about it. Hannah was not looking forward to this time either.’ Amy blinked at the revelation. ‘Hannah wanted it left till the last moment—till they were a little older. I was trying to follow her wish, I did not think about cups …’ He gave a shrug.
‘Of course not,’ Amy conceded. ‘I don’t expect you to. But if there was just more communication it might make things easier.’
‘If she were alive still this would be difficult.’
Amy could see the battle in his face to keep his features bland, almost hear the effort to keep sentiment from his voice.
‘If she were here Hannah would not have been able to feed them, and that would have upset her.’ Amy frowned as he continued. ‘This is a time when babies are …’ He did not know the word. ‘Separated from their mother’s milk.’
‘Weaned off it?’
Emir nodded. ‘Tradition states that they should travel for a week living on water and fruits. The desert people do not approve that I am only giving them the girls for one night, and King Rakhal also opposed it, but I explained that my children have already been …’ he paused before he used the word that was new to his vocabulary ‘… weaned at two weeks of age.’
‘And he agreed to reduce it?’
‘Not for my daughters’ sake.’ Emir’s voice deepened in hate. ‘Only, I
believe, because his wife is pregnant. Only because I reminded him that the rule would apply to his infant too.’ He gave a rare smile. ‘Perhaps Queen Natasha found out about it.’
Amy smiled back. She looked at him and was curious—more curious than she had ever been about a man. There was just so much about him she did not know, so much she had wrongly assumed. These past weeks it had not been bottles and cups on his mind, it had been their welfare. That this proud King had gone to his enemy to ask a favour spoke volumes, but it just confused her more.
‘Natasha is English, like you.’ Emir broke into her thoughts. ‘And would be just as opposed, I presume.’ His smile was wry now. ‘Poor Rakhal!’
‘Poor Natasha,’ was Amy’s response. ‘If Rakhal is as stubborn as you.’
He told her some more about what would happen—that they would set off soon and would take lunch at the oasis. ‘It must be soon,’ Emir said, ‘for the winds are gathering and we have to make it to the oasis today, so all this can take place before their first birthday.’
He did have their best interests at heart, Amy realised, even if he did not always show it. At every turn he confused her, for when the twins woke from that nap it was Emir who went to them, who helped her wrap them in shawls. When she saw him smile down at Clemira as they headed outside he was like the Emir she had once seen.
As they turned to the right of the tent Amy felt her heart sink at the familiar sound of horses whinnying—it was a sound that had once been pleasing to her, but now it only brought terror.
‘Horses?’ She looked at the beasts. ‘We’re riding to the oasis?’
‘Of course.’ He handed her Clemira, oblivious to the panic in her voice.
‘Your Highness …’
‘Emir,’ he conceded.
‘Emir—I can’t. I thought we’d be driving.’
‘Driving?’ He shot out an incredulous laugh. ‘You really have no idea what this is about.’
‘I honestly don’t think I can ride,’ Amy said.
‘Walk, then.’ Emir shrugged. ‘Though I suggest you walk alongside a horse, for it will only be a short time before you surely decide you’re not so precious.’
‘It’s not that!’ He was so arrogant, so difficult to speak to at times. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him about her accident. She didn’t want a lecture on how it was better to get back on a horse, or some withering comment, or—worse—questions. ‘I’m nervous around horses,’ she offered.
Emir just shrugged. ‘I will travel alone, then,’ he said. ‘You will help me to secure the twins.’
Amy bristled. He certainly wasn’t going to baby her—after all, he didn’t even pander to the twins. She wondered if they would fight and struggle as she secured them, but instead the girls were delighted with this new game—giggling as he balanced each one against his chest. It was Amy who was struggling as she wrapped a sash over his shoulder and tied a knot low on his waist, for she had never been closer to him.
‘That’s Clemira.’ She did her best to keep her voice light, hoped he would not notice her shaking fingers as she wrapped the second twin and was glad to walk around to his back so he would not see her blush. She lifted his kafeya a little, ran the cloth behind it. Her fingers paused as she felt dark skin. She bit on her lip as she saw the nape of his neck, resisting the urge to linger.
‘Done?’ he asked.
‘Nearly.’ She finished the knot on his shoulder. ‘Are you sure you can manage them both?’
‘I have carried much more.’ He indicated to Raul, the groundsman, to bring over his horse. As he mounted with ease the twins started to get upset—perhaps realising that they were leaving Amy behind.
‘They will be fine,’ Emir said.
But wasn’t it her job to make this transition easier for them? As painful as it would be, she wanted to be there for the girls when they were handed over to strangers—wanted this last bit of time with them.
‘I’ll come.’ The words tumbled out. ‘It will be better for the girls if I ride along beside them and give them their lunch.’
‘It is up to you.’ Emir’s voice did not betray the fact that he was relieved. He had privately been wondering how he would manage—not the ride, but the time at the oasis.
When he saw her tentativeness as she approached her animal, saw that her fear was real, he halted their departure for a moment and called to Raul, translating for Amy. ‘I have asked him to bring Layyinah. She is, as her name attests, the most gentle mare.’
Layyinah was gorgeous—white and elegant, and more beautiful than any horse Amy had seen. She had huge eyes and nostrils, her forehead was broad, and Amy ran a hand over a magnificent mane.
‘She’s beautiful,’ Amy said. ‘I mean seriously beautiful.’
‘Pure Arabian,’ Emir explained. ‘That bulge between her eyes is her jibbah. There is more …’ he did not know the word ‘… more room that helps with her breathing in the hot air. They are built for this land. In our horses we put a lot of trust and they return it. She will look after you.’
Amy actually wanted to get on, although she was incredibly nervous. The once familiar action took her a couple of attempts, and though her robes had enough cloth in them to allow for decency it felt strange to be climbing onto a horse wearing them. But Emir had managed, Amy told herself. As she took to the saddle she was glad he had mounted his horse first, because he was there beside her, surprisingly patient and encouraging, as she took a moment to settle. The horse moved a few steps as it became accustomed to a new rider.
‘Kef.’ Emir leant over and pulled at the rein. ‘It means stop,’ he explained, and waited till Amy had her breath back. ‘How does it feel?’
‘Good,’ Amy admitted. ‘It feels scary, but good.’
‘We will take it slowly,’ Emir said. ‘There is nothing to be nervous about.’
Oh, there was—but she chose not to tell him.
As they set off, even though it felt different riding on sand, the motion was soon familiar, and Amy realised how much she had missed riding. It had been a huge part of her life but she had never considered resuming it. Had never envisiaged the day she would be brave enough to try again—unexpectedly, that day was here.
She breathed in the warm air, felt the beauty of her surrounds, and for the first time she put anger and her questions aside, just drank in the moment. She heard Emir talk to his children, heard their chatter and laughter as they set off on an adventure. It was nicer just to enjoy rather than think about where this journey would take them.
‘It’s gorgeous.’
Emir merely shrugged.
‘So peaceful.’
‘When she chooses to be,’ came Emir’s strange answer, and he looked over to her. ‘Don’t let the desert seduce you. As my father told me, she is like a beautiful woman: she dazzles and lulls you, but she is always plotting.’
‘What happened to your father?’
‘He was killed.’ Emir pointed to the distance. ‘Over there.’
Despite the heat she shivered. ‘And your mother?’
He did not answer.
‘Emir?’
‘It is not a tale to be told on your first night in the desert.’ He changed the subject. ‘Soon we will be there.’ He pointed ahead to a shimmer on the horizon. ‘Do you see the shadows?’
‘Not really,’ Amy admitted, but as they rode on she started to see the shadows that were in fact huge trees and shrubs.
‘What will happen?’
‘We will select our lunch,’ Emir said, ‘and then we will wait for the desert people.’ He looked over, saw her tense profile, and then he looked down at the twins, lulled by the motion of the horse, safe with their father. They had both fallen asleep and he did not want to hand them over either—hating so many of his kingdom’s ways.
‘They’ve missed you.’
He heard Amy’s voice but did not respond, for he had missed then so much too, and he could not share with her the reasons why.
Or perhaps he
could.
He looked over as, bolder now, she rode ahead of him, her eyes on the oasis. Her scarf kept slipping, her hair was blowing behind her, and the attraction he felt was acknowledged. What just a couple of generations ago would have been forbidden was a possibility now. After all, Rakhal had an English wife—maybe there could be a way …
Poor Rakhal?
Perhaps not.
Poor Natasha. Even if they had been said as a light joke, he recalled Amy’s words, knew from their conversation she was not one who would be told what to do. She would not meekly comply to his request or be flattered that he’d asked.
She was trotting now, and Emir frowned. For someone so nervous around horses, someone who hadn’t wanted to ride, she was doing incredibly well. She looked as if she had been riding for years. He had a glimpse then of a different future—riding through the Alzan desert alongside her, with Clemira and Nakia and their own children too.
He must not rush this decision—and he certainly must not rush her.
She pulled up her horse and turned and smiled then, her face flushed from the exertion, her eyes for once unguarded, exhilarated. Emir wanted to see more of that and, patience forgotten, kicked his horse faster to join her, his urgency building with each gallop. He wanted her wild and free in his bed. Today—tonight—he would convince her. And as he slowed to a walk beside her, as he saw the spread of colour on her cheeks darken as he looked over to her, as he registered she wanted him too, he thanked the desert that had brought him a simple solution.
Maybe his kingdom and his family could somehow remain.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘LA,’ Emir scolded, frowning as Nakia spat out the fruit he’d tried to feed her. ‘I mean no!’ He was fast realising that the twins mainly understood English. ‘She copies her sister.’
Amy couldn’t help but laugh. They were deep in the desert, sitting by the oasis, feeding the children fresh fruit that they had collected from the lush trees—or they were trying to feed the children, because a moment ago Clemira had done the same thing, spitting out the fruit and screwing up her face.
Beholden to the Throne Page 4