by Holly Rayner
After the fifth dune, Steph began to feel nervous. This didn’t seem right, for some reason, and the driver didn’t seem to know any English. How would she find a way to ask him if they were going in the right direction? If it were possible, Steph’s stomach would have turned into one big actual knot after the day’s events. She sat wringing her fingers together as they drove on for what seemed like eternity.
Suddenly, a building came into view up ahead. Leaning close to the window, Steph did her best to make it out.
It was a palace! She was getting married in a palace? How was that possible?
Steph remembered her parents’ description of her future husband. They had said he was rich, but this was clearly something else entirely. This was royalty. While it looked different from what she was used to, Steph knew a palace when she saw one. The structure was a clear, magnificent white, but the rounded tops were capped with solid gold. Even from a distance, Steph knew that gold was real.
Somehow, she managed to become even more nervous than before. As the car pulled up the long, curving drive to the front of the palace, Steph’s eyes were glued to the window as she took in everything. Finally, they landed on a man, who was leaning nonchalantly in front of the ornate structure.
Steph gasped.
There, looking as casual as ever, stood Mehdi. He watched her with a hand over his eyes as he stood in the shade, as though he were looking for her. Was it possible? Could her life really be that wonderful?
The limo pulled to a stop, and Steph waited with butterflies in her stomach as the driver came around and opened the door, helping her step out. She kept her gaze on Mehdi, who pushed himself off the wall and approached her with a grin on his face.
“You make a beautiful bride. That much is true,” he said. He stood close to her as he gazed down into her eyes. “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, in fact.”
“Are you… Are you…” Steph stammered, unable to get the question out.
Here, in front of this palace, Mehdi seemed so much more than he had the night before, if that were even possible. He was tall and handsome and a little imposing, and she couldn’t find the words to ask if he would become her husband.
“The Sheikh of El Farah? Yes, I am,” he said. “I must escort you from this hot sun though. No need to have a bride melting on her wedding day.”
“You’re the Sheikh?” Steph asked, incredulous.
That wasn’t the answer she had been looking for, but she was so taken aback that she forgot that for a moment.
Mehdi nodded. “I am. It was so nice to meet you last night, and after our conversation I thought you might want rescuing one more time.”
They stepped into the shade, and Steph felt instant relief from the glaring heat of the El Farahn sun. She gazed up at Mehdi, finding her words.
“Are you my fiancé?” she asked.
Mehdi met her gaze and laughed. “Oh, I can see where you’d be confused. No, I am not. However, I do know what it’s like to have choice taken away from you, and I didn’t want you to have to suffer the same fate. I’m giving you a choice now, Steph. You can go back to the limo and I will have my driver take you to your original destination with no questions asked, or you can stay a while with me and enjoy breaking the rules a little bit.”
Steph’s brain struggled to catch up with what was happening. Mehdi had sent a decoy limo to rescue her from an arranged marriage, and he was now offering her asylum until she was ready to face the consequences of that action.
She stopped in the main foyer, closing her eyes. “Wait. Hold on a minute. I just need to process this.”
She opened her eyes and looked back up at Mehdi, who was staring down at her patiently. She pointed at him.
“You’re like…the king of El Farah,” she said.
“That’s right,” Mehdi said with a nod.
She waved her hands around the room at large, which, she noticed, was extremely large and glittering with gold designs.
“And this is your home,” she said.
“That is correct.”
“And you aren’t supposed to be marrying me today,” she said, and he shook his head.
“Unfortunately not,” he said, and Steph noticed a small pang of disappointment in his voice.
She stared at him for a moment as it all came together. Then she burst into a wide smile.
“You are insane,” she said, and Mehdi laughed.
“Probably, but here we are. So what do you choose, Steph?”
“What do I choose? You just kidnapped me from my own wedding!”
She was torn between feeling indignant and feeling relieved. Mehdi looked completely unrepentant, the paragon of confidence.
“It’s as I said. I think you deserve to choose, and I took action accordingly. If I have acted out of place I will apologize, but I think there is a part of you that is glad you’re not in the middle of a wedding ceremony right now.”
“And you are used to doing as you please, given your status? Is that it?”
Mehdi frowned. “Yesterday I told you that I lived in my own gilded cage, always meant to behave in a certain manner. Do you now hold me to that standard, now that you know who I am?”
Steph thought back to the aquarium, when that worker had been so quick to give Mehdi whatever he wanted. That all made perfect sense now. She felt a stab of guilt at his words.
“You’re right. I’m already making assumptions about you, and that’s wrong. But you made assumptions about me, too, when you assumed I would be perfectly fine being kidnapped.”
“And are you?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.
She could have fallen into his arms and kissed him then and there, but instead she stepped back and crossed her arms, mostly to keep them for wrapping around him without her permission.
“Maybe,” she said, and Mehdi smiled.
“Aha! There’s the truth now. Worry not, fair maiden, for you will not be another man’s bride this day,” he said, his tone playful.
Steph glanced down at her elaborate dress. Compared to Mehdi’s casual outfit, she definitely felt silly, even if her surroundings were appropriate for a ceremony of some kind.
“It does feel strange, to be in this gown with nothing to show for it.”
“Perhaps you would like a change of clothing?” he said.
“You keep women’s clothing on hand for just an occasion such as this?” she asked with a skeptical brow.
Mehdi laughed. “Steph, it’s the palace of El Farah. I’m not the only person who’s lived here. My parents had many dignitaries visit, and they housed many people for a variety of reasons. It is always pertinent to have spare clothing around. At the palace, anything can happen, and it has.”
Steph thought about anything happening at the palace, and her thoughts turned to Mehdi’s lips before she gave herself a mental shake. Obviously being in a wedding gown was not helping the direction of her thoughts.
“I would be grateful for a change of clothing, yes,” she said.
“Wonderful. I can show you to one of our guest rooms. Right this way.”
Mehdi started down a long, shimmering hallway, and Steph fell into step with him, finally taking the time to observe her surroundings. The walls were white, like the exterior, and they were loaded with ancient portraits, colorful tapestries and rugs.
“These are amazing,” Steph said, taking in all the art.
Mehdi glanced around, nodding nonchalantly. “Yes, I suppose so. These pieces of art have been in my family for generations. The whole palace has, actually. El Farah, if you haven’t noticed, is really big on tradition, history, and family loyalty. It is because of this that the palace has remained unchanged for many centuries. We update it, of course, when the gold starts to get weathered, but generally the place looks exactly as it did when my ancestors lived here.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” Steph said.
Mehdi shrugged. “I think tradition certainly has a place, but I’m not the same man a
s my great-great-grandfather. Why would I want to live in a palace coated in gold? It’s a waste of resources, and the upkeep is atrocious. I don’t want our tax dollars going toward something like this.”
“Do the people agree with you? Perhaps you could use popular vote to create that change.”
Mehdi frowned. “They do not. As I said, tradition is a big part of our culture. The people like the palace the way it is. They want it to look like this for their grandchildren and beyond. I’m afraid any children I may have will have to endure the level of exorbitance this castle provides.”
Steph was surprised to hear a sheikh speak in such a way about his palace. Mehdi seemed to like things simple, even as he complicated her own life with wild, spontaneous gestures like a secret limo kidnapping. He was an enigma, a puzzle she wanted to pick apart and solve.
They reached the end of the hallway and Mehdi opened a door on the left. The room was expansive, but Steph hesitated before going in.
“What is it?” Mehdi asked.
She blushed. “I just… I’ll need a little help getting out of this dress.”
“Oh,” Mehdi said, clearing his throat.
“Not a lot! Just the buttons on the back.”
They paused for a moment before Mehdi nodded and she turned her back to him. Steph felt a searing heat as his fingers brushed lower and lower down her back, pulling each button from its loop, before stopping right at the base. She took a bracing breath, trying to calm herself as she turned back to him with a sheepish smile.
“Thank you,” she said.
Mehdi’s expression was unreadable, but in that moment Steph was sure he was fighting the urge to kiss her, too. After a pause, he stepped back toward the hallway.
“No problem. You’ll find spare clothing in the armoire by the bed. I’ll have someone come get you in a bit. I imagine you haven’t eaten yet?”
“I have not,” Steph agreed, stepping inside her room.
“Good. I’ll have something delicious prepared. See you soon,” he said, nodding to her before turning and walking briskly in the opposite direction.
Steph watched him go once again, and she couldn’t believe her life.
She was in a palace, with the Sheikh!
EIGHT
Steph
The room Steph was in was all high, arching ceilings and tasteful furniture. The dome theme continued, the room arching over her like a sand-colored rainbow, curling over a large, comfortable-looking bed. Her back still tingled where Mehdi had touched her. Knowing now that he had servants, she wondered why he hadn’t sent a maid in to help her instead of taking on the task of undressing her himself. She decided not to think about it, lest she get any more ideas in her head. The man was a king, for heaven’s sake. There was no way she could entertain a relationship with him. He probably had an arranged marriage himself!
Allowing her dress to fall to the floor, Steph padded across the room in her slip to the spectacularly large armoire Mehdi had mentioned, tossing the doors open and taking a look inside. The clothing was splendid. There were many variations of sizes, and Steph poked through until she found a pale yellow dress and a white cardigan—simple, just as she liked it. She slid into the dress before turning toward the mirror.
Her makeup was still perfect, but it seemed a little much for the simple outfit. She carefully unpinned her hair until it was in a curly ponytail and washed a layer of makeup off. By the time she was done, she looked perfectly suited for a late afternoon lunch rather than the wedding she was meant to be at.
Another rush of guilt shot through her, but she pressed it down. Steph was allowed to enjoy her own life, and she had never before done anything she’d truly wanted to do. In this moment, what she wanted was to be with Mehdi, enjoying his company in a country she was still getting to know. Who better to get the details from than the ruling monarch himself?
As she finished cleaning herself up, there was a knock at the door. Steph walked over to answer and found a young woman there, who bowed.
“His Majesty has sent me to guide you in the right direction, miss,” she said, her voice slightly accented.
Steph nodded, smiling, before she looked down and realized she didn’t have proper shoes. The young woman took notice of the direction of her gaze and entered the room, opening a drawer at the bottom of the armoire and showing Steph the selection there. Steph picked out a delicate pair of flats and slid them on before following the young woman out of the room and down several corridors.
Mehdi hadn’t been wrong. The palace was showy in a way that didn’t suit his personality at all. Steph wondered what it would take to make some changes, though of course that was far beyond any decisions she could make. The woman opened a veranda door which led to a small, shaded courtyard. There, Mehdi was enjoying a cool drink as he sat at the table, and when he saw her he stood.
“That looks far more comfortable,” he said, his eyes taking her in.
Steph blushed again beneath his stare, but she smiled. “Thanks for giving me access to your collection. Everything was so beautiful. It was difficult to find something I liked most.”
“You have chosen admirably,” he said, gesturing for her to sit down, which she did, thanking the girl who had guided her there.
“Are you hungry?” Mehdi asked, and she nodded.
“I couldn’t stomach food all day, but now that things have relaxed a bit, I could eat a horse!”
“Well that is barbaric,” Mehdi said, appalled, and Steph laughed.
“It’s just an expression; don’t worry. Anyway, wasn’t it you telling me not to question the meat I was eating just the other day?”
Mehdi grinned. “That was because I knew it was regular old beef, but I wanted to see if you’d dare to try it.”
“Did you think I’d chicken out?”
“You? Never.” Mehdi laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “Do you like punch?” he asked.
Steph nodded. “As much as anyone, I suppose. Why?”
“You must try this. It’s made with fruit which is only grown here in El Farah. It doesn’t travel very well, which is why you’ve likely never tried it, but it is delicious.”
Steph reached for the ornate goblet in front of her and took a sip of the red punch. Her eyes widened at the taste. It was sweet, citrusy, and delicious. It was the perfect thing to calm her nerves after a couple of stressful days.
“This is outstanding!” she said, and Mehdi smiled, satisfied.
“We’ll also be having a lunch of all of El Farah’s traditional dishes, so I can introduce you to anything your mother might have missed in your education of your heritage.”
Steph grinned. “I can’t wait,” she said, taking another sip of punch. “So what do you do, as the sheikh? I’m surprised you have enough free time to kidnap unsuspecting women from their arranged marriages.”
Mehdi laughed, and Steph found herself leaning in closer, wanting to be near that energy.
“My position is ceremonial, mostly. I’m a monarch, but we have a parliament that seems quite content running the show.”
“Interesting. Do they let you in on any decisions at all?” she asked.
“Sometimes. If there is an issue I feel particularly strongly about I will make my opinion known.”
“And what is the political atmosphere like in El Farah? Is there one party that hates another?”
Mehdi thought about that for a moment. As he did, their food arrived, and the table became laden with exotic-looking dishes that smelled like heaven. Mehdi explained what every dish was, from the meat pastries to the fruit pies and local vegetables. Steph filled her plate and took a succulent bite, closing her eyes as she experienced the cuisine of El Farah for only the second time.
“To answer your question,” Mehdi said, picking up where they left off, “there is some political discord here, but El Farah has been a prosperous country for many years now. When the people do not suffer, the government is working correctly, and peace ensues. I find that we h
ave managed to strike that balance, though I do believe some of our laws to be a bit too conservative.”
Steph took another sip of punch to wash down her fruit pie, tilting her head. “It seems you are in the minority, though I suppose since you’re the only person here I really know, I can’t say that’s a fully informed observation.”
“I spent many of my formative years in Europe and the United States, and I learned a lot while I was there. I think taking on some Western ideals would be good for our country. It would help us become more united with the world as a whole, and help blend us into the twenty-first-century global community.”