and admired the beautiful decorations and the glittering crowd. King Givon hosted a “small, intimate” birthday celebration for his good friend and prime minister, Aleser. However, small and intimate in the royal world was different from small and intimate in Dora’s experience. There were more than a hundred people in the room.
Dora drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. She felt fine, and she looked good. At least that’s what she’d told herself as she’d dressed an hour before.
Since arriving in El Bahar, she’d started letting her hair grow. Now she wore it swept up in an elegant French twist. A few weeks before she and Khalil had gone to Paris for business meetings. Fatima had given Dora the name of an exclusive salon, which had pampered her with a manicure and facial. Afterward, a gifted artist had taught her the best way to apply makeup. All the horseback riding and the long distances between rooms in the palace had helped Dora drop ten pounds since arriving. While she would never be model perfect, she was an attractive, vital woman. Unfortunately she cowered in the shadowed doorway like a frightened schoolchild. If only she’d been able to walk in with Khalil.
Dora sighed. While her husband had been greeting guests, she’d been throwing up in her bathroom. So much for morning sickness occurring in the morning. Her attacks were infrequent, but they generally came in waves, striking every few hours, then disappearing for a day or two. Still not sure how to tell Khalil the truth about her pregnancy, she’d sent him away, telling him that she’d found a stain on her dress and had to change. The price of her lie was that she would be forced to enter the party on her own.
She took a step into the well-dressed crowd and moved toward the bar. There she ordered sparkling water poured into a wineglass, then plastered a smile on her face and prepared to plunge into the insanity.
“Your Highness,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
Dora turned and saw Martin Wingbird hurrying toward her. A tall, stately man walked briskly behind him. She paused.
“Good evening, Martin.”
“Your Highness.” Martin bowed, then glanced at his companion. “Princess Dora Khan, may I please present Lord Andrew Hall. He’s heard about your plans to increase opportunities for young women to attend college and would like to speak to you about that.”
Lord Hall took her offered hand and bowed low over her fingers. “Your Highness, I hesitated to disrupt a party to discuss business, but I’m only in El Bahar for a short visit.” He straightened. “My late wife was a great advocate of female education, as she called it.” He smiled, but his deep blue eyes remained sad. “In honor of her, I have dedicated my life to that cause. After hearing about your campaign and your success in convincing the king of the need to educate women, I would like to talk about offering scholarships to worthy female students so that they could attend British universities.”
Dora studied the thin man. His white hair was thick and wavy, his skin permanently tanned. “How on earth did you hear about my program?”
“News travels quickly, Your Highness. You are a highly visible and respected member of the royal family. People watch and talk.”
Dora laughed. “I suppose I have to believe you, but I’m still having trouble adjusting to all this.” She waved to take in both the party and the palace. “Lord Hall, I would be most delighted to discuss the scholarships with you. Will you still be in El Bahar tomorrow?”
“Business keeps me here for three days.”
“Good.” She looked at Martin. “Make an appointment for Lord Hall.” She returned her attention to the older man. “I look forward to our discussion.”
“As do I.” He nodded and moved away.
Dora sipped at her sparkling water. Life was certainly different these days. Just six months ago, she couldn’t have imagined a world such as this.
She circled the room, greeting people she knew, introducing herself to others. Small talk wasn’t her favorite, but practice made her better. She kept looking for Khalil, wondering where he was and what he was doing. Finally she caught a glimpse of something familiar, and she stopped in her tracks.
Dora stood near a small alcove, one of many that lined the ballroom. Behind her music played and people laughed and talked, but in front of her was relative silence. She waited, then caught the movement again. It was no more than a swirl of fabric from a woman’s dress and the gesture of one slender arm. Yet she sensed something familiar…something dangerous.
Quietly Dora moved forward until she could see the two people standing in shadow. She recognized the man immediately—despite looking somewhat like his brothers, she would never mistake Khalil for anyone else. It took her a minute to place the woman. Not because she didn’t remember her, but because of the way the light and shadows played on her face.
Amber. The stunningly beautiful woman who had been engaged to Khalil. The woman who was a temptress in clinging red silk that outlined a perfect body. Thick, black hair piled high on her head, leaving her neck looking slender and delicate.
Dora stood just outside of their sight and fought against the waves of pain and hurt that crashed through her. Despite the pretty dress, the jewelry, the makeup, she was a pathetic parody of that beautiful young woman. Amber wore red silk, Dora blue. But the styles were similar enough to cause comment—ribbed column styles that accentuated bosom, exposed shoulders. Amber’s dress clung all the way to her knees, emphasizing her amazing curves, while Dora’s gown had been softened with folds of fabric so that her still-heavy hips would not be highlighted.
Amber was all things more, Dora thought miserably, wanting to back up but frozen in place. Her own hair had been put up, but she didn’t have the thick length to add height and volume. Her own earrings were lovely diamonds, but they paled in comparison to the jewels glittering on Amber’s ears and around her neck. She felt like an ugly parody of the younger woman’s beauty.
All her confidence, all her happiness, evaporated like a bowl of water left out in the desert sun. Khalil had been right, she was nothing.
Defeat weighed heavily on her. She forced herself to turn so that she could leave and escape to her room to lick her wounds. At that moment, the music ended and relative quiet settled over the ballroom. While others were too far away to hear what was said in the private alcove, Dora was not.
“I want you, Khalil,” Amber purred in her sultry tones. “I am your destiny, not that cow of a wife. What were you thinking, taking her when you could have had me? I know you don’t love her. I’m willing to admit I was wrong. I want to be with you. I want to have your sons.”
It was too much, Dora thought as tears blinded her. She hurried away before she made a sound and betrayed her presence to the lovers.
Up ahead she spotted a side door and made for it. Pain ripped through her. Pain and disappointment—for all that should have been but never would be. She’d lost before she’d begun. How on earth was she supposed to compete with a woman like Amber? No wonder her husband wouldn’t admit to caring about her—he didn’t. He loved another and she, Dora, was only in the way. She’d been fooling herself to think Khalil would ever love her.
A sob ripped through her. She opened the door and stepped into the night. But instead of soothing her, the faintly sweet scented air turned her stomach. She rushed to the edge of the balcony and threw up into a potted plant. She’d thought she’d hit rock bottom before when Gerald had rejected her, but this was far worse.
“It
