“Calm down,” Amir said, grasping her shoulders as she paced past him for the hundredth time. “So, she’s going to whip out a puppy. What does it matter? They are half breeds. They will not ascend to the throne. Neither will he.”
“Then you are not paying attention,” she snarled. “Kamran has your father’s ear. All of a sudden he is implementing businesses and programs with those fake American Kings, Queens, and blasted Knights. None of it has anything to do with you.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “I’m telling you that Ellena Maharaj becoming pregnant is going to be a major problem.” She pulled out of his reach and slammed her hand against the nearest wall. “The whole reason Kamran was passed over for the throne is because he could not sire a child. Her pregnancy proves that was an error all these years.” She looked at him, frowning. “Your father may see it that way.”
Amir whipped out his cell, texting an answer to Salman, then Umar and Laraib regarding these new developments. Seemed that all of his brothers were in a similar conversation with their wives. “He will not put Kamran on the throne with half breeds as his heirs. What part of this do you not understand?”
“He could easily put him with a second wife—a Durabian wife. She can produce those heirs.”
His expression went blank as he stared at her bridal garment, torn to shreds under his feet.
“Oh yes, you take my meaning,” she taunted. “She has opened a world of possibilities for him. And where will that leave us? And your father has been wavering on a few major issues lately. He could easily appoint Kamran crown prince instead of you.”
She focused on him, her eyes darting to several areas in the room. “We need to do something that will totally take him out of the running or throw him off center.”
“His wife is what makes them vulnerable.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
“We kill those half breeds before they can draw breath, and if his wife dies … so be it.”
During the middle of Friday night dinner at the Palace, Kamran stood, moved the plate in front of Ellena and switched his with hers. The spread of Durabian delicacies stretched the length of the main table that seated twenty-four, and the matching tables on either side that was decorated in the same opulent golds and creams—all warm colors.
“Why are you doing that?” Sheikh Aayan asked. “I mean, that is too big of a portion for you, but it is just right for a woman eating for two.”
“Or grazing,” Eshaal taunted, and Faiza nudged her into silence.
“It is fine,” Kamran said, putting his angry glare on Eshaal, who glowered right back at him.
“My son, why did you switch the plates?”
That repeated question paused all other conversations at the table.
Kamran locked gazes with his father. “Twice my wife has eaten here and has become extremely ill right after.”
“Pregnant women’s stomachs can be a little sensitive,” the Sheikh said, his tone dismissive.
“It is only sensitive when she comes here,” Kamran countered, ignoring the warning look from Ellena. “So, Mama has said tonight I will try what is on Ellena’s plate. Next time it will be Mama who will consume what’s on her plate. If Ellena does not have any trouble, then it will mean something else entirely.”
“It is nothing,” Faiza said around a mouthful of rice. “I just had the chef put a little something in it—herbs that helped me when I was pregnant. That is all. I did not realize it upset her so.”
“Did you now? All right.” Kamran switched his plate with Faiza’s and said, “Bon Appetit.”
She thrust the plate away, as though it had offended her. “Oh no. I am not pregnant. I do not need—”
He gestured to one of the servants and said, “Please cover this plate and put it in the serving station. And bring me another meal, please.”
Faiza breathed an obvious sigh of relief. “Good. All settled.”
“What are you going to do with that meal?” Sheikh Aayan asked, peering at Kamal.
“I am taking it to the hospital for analysis.”
“Why?” Faiza asked, with wide eyes and a shrill note in her voice.
“If you have to ask, then you are not paying attention.” Kamran scanned the faces of those around the table. “My wife will not eat another morsel in this place.”
“Just bring her another plate and toss that one in the receptacle,” Sheikh growled at the servant.
“Father, you are enabling them to escape the consequences of their actions, ones that specifically show they tried to poison my wife.”
“It is not poison,” Faiza protested, sharing a worried glance with Eshaal and Hiba, who tried to avert their gazes under their husbands’ heated glares.
Kamran left his position and bore down on her. “Then what is it … exactly?”
She shrank back, and didn’t respond, but Amir stood, trying to put some space between them.
“That’s all right,” Kamran said, shrugging. “The lab will tell us. I will have proof.”
“It is merely a misunderstanding,” Nadeem said, placing a hand on Hiba’s shoulder in an obvious attempt to keep his wife quiet.
“A misunderstanding is … putting raisins on a salad when someone doesn’t care for it,” Kamran countered. “A deliberate act is when someone is allergic to a food item and the host puts that very thing in the meal and doesn’t inform the guest. To put something in my wife’s food so that it creates stress on her body, so much so that she might lose the child she carries, is attempted murder. All I have to do is prove it.”
“Apologize now,” Sheikh commanded, eyes flashing fire at Faiza. “End it here.”
“More than apologies are required, Father,” Kamran said in a voice that brooked no resistance. “If we cannot trust the food that is being given to my wife, then how do you expect us to come here every Friday to break bread?”
“We will switch out her meals with someone at the table each time for you to be sure. Does that work?” Amir said as the Sheikh nodded.
“No, addressing the culprit works.” Kamran extended his hand. “Come, Ellena.” He maneuvered past the guests until he was by her side. “My issue is what happens when they demand that the chef or the servants do something else. They are not in a position to refuse. Especially if they wish to keep their jobs.”
The Sheikh ignored his wife’s warning to allow Kamran and Ellena to leave. “Bring the chef.”
One of the servants left his station at the head of the table, and ran to do his bidding.
The chef was a round-faced, barrel-bellied man with something akin to a handlebar mustache.
“What did you put in her food?”
He flickered a panicked look at Faiza and Eshaal before focusing on the Sheikh.
“Answer me!”
“I … I … I do not know,” he stammered, wringing his pudgy hands.
“Who gave it to you?”
The tense silence was so thick, one could slice it in half.
“Your Highness, I beg you,” Chef Zain implored. “They said it would help her indigestion. I do not know what was in that powder.”
“Bring the container to me,” Kamran demanded.
The chef complied and a few minutes later he ran back with a vial and handed it to Kamran, who held it under his nose and inhaled. “No smell.” Then he touched his fingertips to the opening and placed it on the tip of his tongue. “I taste almonds and garlic. I believe this will come back from the analysis as either cyanide or arsenic.”
Sheikh Aayan glared at Faiza. “She and the chef will be punished for this devious act.”
“And my brother?” Kamran queried, causing several people to gasp.
“Your brother?” The Sheikh frowned as if he heard wrong.
“Yes, you’re punishing her, but not him.”
Sheikh waved away that thought. “He said she gave it to him.”
Kamran held his ground and gritted out. “Chef Zain said they.”
“That does n
ot mean he had anything to do with it,” Sheikh said. “I am more inclined to think that Eshaal and Faiza were involved.”
“Where do you think the poison came from?” Kamran shot back. “Neither one of the women have that type of access. But I digress.” He extended his hand. “Come Ellena, we will take our leave.”
“We have isolated the threat.” Sheikh Aayan stood, his expression thunderous.
“In part, but not all. It is safer for my wife not to be in the palace.”
Rashid, Waqas, Saba and Saqib all moved in unison to accompany them.
Kamran raised his voice, adding, “Do not forget that I have to answer to her family if anything happens to her.”
He let that statement walk across the room and back for a moment.
“You might not take that seriously, but I certainly do,” he said over his shoulder. “Some of those men have a dark past. I have no wish to learn how dark it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You lied to me,” Sheikh Zohaib’s shout echoed off the columns and every wall in the palace. His thinning hair, and protruding belly made him seem less formidable than the man he was addressing. “I married my precious daughters to lesser men because your son took their innocence.”
Sheikh Zohaib had landed in Durabia much earlier than expected, sending the palace into a frenzy to make everything suitable for him and his family to stay a few days.
“Married them properly,” Sheikh Aayan, pointed out. “Do not forget that.”
“He took their value first.”
Kamran called over Saba and Saqib to translate for Ellena so he could now focus on the conversation and the nuances of the exchange. Word had made it around the Muslim world that Kamran was expecting a child and that information put in question how two Arabian wives managed not to produce any offspring for him.
“Remember, you insisted on the annulment each time, then kept asking for the return of the dowry. Even though your daughters, by law, should have remained here. The better question is how is it that your daughters managed to be here with my son for five years each and bore no fruit but somehow ended up married, then pregnant by men they wanted in the first place?”
Zohaib shared a glance with his wife, Zoya and their son, Crown Prince Sajid.
“Did you think I would not find out?” Sheikh Aayan stated and his tone was more accusatory than anything else. “I found it suspect, but had no proof of their deception until now when Ellena Khan is carrying Kamran’s child.”
Zohaib gestured rudely toward Ellena. “Your proof is that he sired a child with a nonbeliever?” he scoffed. “He could not impregnate a woman of high caliber. That is not proof.”
“Bring your daughters before me,” Sheikh Aayan commanded. “Let us hear from them what their actions were.”
Zohaib waved him off. “They are married and have children. That proves everything.”
“Did you bring them as requested?” Sheikh Aayan asked, his eyes laser focused on Zohaib.
“Yes, they are here,” he answered, taking in a nod of assent from his wife, Zoya.
“Bring them before me,” Sheikh Aayan growled.
Zohaib bridled with anger, fists waving as he growled. “You cannot command me as if I am one of your subjects.”
Kamran shared a speaking glance with Ellena. She, too, had said something was amiss with those years of barrenness. He hadn’t given it much thought. Unlike how things would normally be done, everyone had been so quick to proclaim his weakness and not what they perceived as the women’s failings.
“There is some deception in this issue.” Sheikh Aayan narrowed his gaze on his old friend. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”
“By accusing my daughters of such blatant treachery? How does that benefit me?”
“The truth benefits everyone,” Sheikh Aayan countered. “Bring them in, or I will have my guards do the honors.”
“They are in the garden with my servants,” Zohaib conceded in a low tone with a wary glanced toward Kamran.
“What will happen if they are somehow the reason that no children were produced during your union?” Ellena asked Kamran, gripping his arm.
He didn’t take his gaze off his father. “Let us not speak on that right now.”
“Kamran—”
“Ellena, not now, please, love. In private, we will discuss everything. But right now, I really need to focus without having to manage your fears. My love, please.”
She clamped down on anything else she had to say. Kamran took her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, which still didn’t reassure her.
Zohaib took note of the exchange between Ellena and Kamran, then asked, “Are you bringing formal charges?”
“This is an informal inquiry. That is all,” Kamran stated. “Also, please bring the royal physician and the servants who were designated for them during their stay here. They will be brought in by my personal bodyguards.”
“That will take some time.”
“We have time,” Sheikh Aayan said as Rashid took off. “Dinner is not for two hours yet. In the meantime, everyone will stay here in this room, so no one is giving any information or guiding them to make answers that are not quite true.”
At first, no one moved. Then moments later, people formed clusters to discuss what was unfolding.
Twenty minutes afterward, two servants and the royal physician who had retired a few years ago—were standing before Sheikh Aayan, along with Kamran’s first two wives.
“There seems to be a little issue surrounding the time Afifa and Naila remained within these walls. Please explain any unusual activity during their time here.”
The tallest of the group stepped forward, “They were just like all the others. So their daily routine was simple.”
“Thank you. Anything else?” he hedged. “I know it was a long time ago but whatever you can recall would be a good thing.”
Ellena took in the haughty posture of the two princesses, but didn’t miss the warning glare the more petite of the two sent to the servant whose lips were twitching in an effort not to speak.
“Actually,” that particular servant said, leveling a defiant look at Naila. “I thought it a little odd that they both took the special little vitamins.”
Both of the princesses stiffened, and so did the doctor, who had remained silent.
“They were in a silver foil packet in a small plastic case.”
Ellena gasped. Saba paused and gave her a curious glance. Kamran stroked her hand as a warning to remain silent.
“I knew they were not ill,” Israh, Naila’s former servant, said. “And when I asked, they said they were vitamins.”
“See, nothing out of place.” Zohaib exhaled and nodded as if that put an end to things. “Vitamins are not drugs. Case closed.”
“Vitamins do not come in silver foil packets or plastic cases such as those,” Ellena said, her voice clear across the throne room.
All eyes turned on Ellena and Kamran.
Sheikh Aayan said, “How do you mean?”
“They described it in enough detail that the doctor is well aware of what they are. She should tell you as she carries more weight than I.”
“We do not listen to the word of a non-believer,” Zohaib snapped. “Be silent, heathen woman.”
“First of all,” Kamran said, leaving Ellena’s side and moving until he was a few feet away from Zohaib. “That is my wife you are speaking to, so watch your tone. Second, she made a valid point, that answer is needed so we can have clarity. And I, for one would like to hear what they have to say.”
Sheikh Aayan gestured for Kamran to pipe down. “Go on.”
“It was round plastic with a soft white bottom and an orange top,” the servant said.
Kamran stole a glance at Ellena, who simply nodded.
“Both of them took the same vitamins?”
“Yes, Sheikh Aayan. Both of them,” she replied. “Every day at the same time.”
“What is the meaning of these
questions?” Zohaib growled, impatience in his stance.
Sheikh Aayan’s head tilted as he peered at the two sisters. “Do you wish to tell them, or shall I?”
“They said you were a monster,” Afifa cried, wringing her hands. “That you would treat us horribly.”
Kamran bore down on them. “Did I ever do anything of the kind while you were my wife? Ever?
“No,” she whispered. “I simply wanted to go home. They said if we did not give you children, that we would eventually be sent home.”
“And leave here having the world believe I was the reason?” Kamran accused. “All because you wanted to be with someone else? You allowed the world to believe I was … less than able to sire children, all because you did not wish to fulfill the pledge between our families.” Kamran’s hands clenched and released. “I did not even tell anyone that neither one of you were virgins when our marriage was consummated.”
Gasps and shock echoed loudly in voices around the room. The flurry of discord rippled throughout the guests.
“Because I knew your death would be eminent and I did not want that for you despite what our laws dictate” He circled them, took in their fear. “And you care so little for me to be so dense … why would you?”
“Who gave you the pills?” Zohaib looked over to Zoya, who vigorously shook her head. “You did this? You allowed this to happen? You allowed them to bring shame upon our family. To bring disgrace to Nadaum rule.
The physician closed her eyes and came forward. “I gave them the pills.”
“I will deal with this accordingly,” Zohaib said on a weary note.
“No, we will,” Kamran said with a tone of finality.
“Kamran …” Ellena shook her head, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“My wife is asking that I show you mercy, when you deserve none,” Kamran explained. “First, for the offense of not being pure when coming to the marriage bed. Then by compounding that grave error and disregarding my kindness by participating in such a cold, calculated deception, that I am still affected by it today.”
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