trying to understand the heavy responsibilities being thrust on Sayed.
“Not at all.”
“Then why?”
“It is tradition.”
“Will your father take over the diplomatic stuff once he’s no longer acting melech?”
Sayed jerked, as if surprised by the question. “That would not be in line with Zeena Sahran tradition. I am not sure my father would find taking orders from his son a comfortable circumstance.”
“But the melech dictates political policy?”
“With the help of a cabinet of counselors, yes. My father will act as one of my advisers, as well.”
It still wasn’t making sense to her. “So, what, your father is just going to retire and start golfing, or something? Won’t he get bored?” How much time could it take to give Sayed advice every day?
Maybe she didn’t understand working monarchies, but she could not imagine a former king content to sit home twiddling his thumbs.
“Honestly? I have wondered the same thing myself. My father is a very dynamic man and I do not think he would enjoy the pursuits that kept my grandfather busy in his twilight years.”
“So, why retire now? Do you want to take over as melech?”
“No one has ever asked me that.” He looked at her like she was some kind of rare species he’d never seen before.
“Maybe they should have. What’s the answer?”
“My duty is clear.”
“Yes, but is it one you want, or even need, to take on right now?”
“You question things you cannot hope to understand.”
“Maybe.” But he still hadn’t answered the question and Liyah thought that was telling.
Sayed went back to his computer, dismissing her. Refusing to take it personally, Liyah skimmed his download of that morning’s copy of The Times. He had probably been happy to note there was no mention of Tahira’s elopement, but it would certainly be in tomorrow’s edition.
After a while, she set the reader down, intending to take that nap he suggested.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, everything started pressing in on her. The argument with her father played over in her mind like an unpleasant reality show. When she managed to push those images aside, then pictures of the night before rose up to fill the void.
An unrelenting montage of the sensual and profound that uselessly fed her newly discovered love.
Sighing, she opened her eyes.
It didn’t help. Her mind and heart were determined to dwell on emotions and experiences she would have been better off without.
Sayed turned from his work at his computer. “You are very pensive, Aaliyah.”
“Don’t you think I have reason to be?” She rubbed her temples. “I may not be an emir, but my whole life just took a ninety-degree turn.”
“Perhaps you needed a detour.”
“Do you think you know what’s best for everybody?”
“It is in the job description.”
“Right.”
He smiled.
And she almost smiled back. Darn him.
That nap was sounding better and better. If only she could sleep, but then she’d probably dream about him. She’d done that before they’d made love. Now the dreams would probably be even more frequent and, with her new knowledge, definitely more graphic.
She expected him to go back to his work, but he didn’t. “You said something yesterday about having a confrontation with your father being the reason you’d broken into Tahira’s liquor stash.”
Liyah opened her mouth to deflect, but she wanted to discuss the painful event with someone and Sayed was offering. “Yes.”
“It did not go well?”
“No.”
“You alluded to him treating you very poorly.” Sayed’s dark gaze probed hers.
“He did.”
“You are being rather laconic.” Sayed smiled, as if he found her amusing.
She didn’t mind. She liked his smile. Too much. “I suppose I am.”
She found herself grinning at his huff of obviously exaggerated exasperation, but then memories took away the lightness his humor had wrought. “It hurt that my father thought I was trying to work an angle, but that’s not what was most painful.”
“What was it, then?”
“When it became clear that my mom had lied to me my whole life.” That had hurt so much. “She always told me that even though he could not have me in his life because he already had a wife and children, he cared enough to send a small stipend to help with my care and education.”
“And this was a lie?”
“Yes. Oh, he was married, but he didn’t even know I existed.”
“That must have been quite a blow.” Sayed laid his hand over hers, offering comfort she needed badly. “To learn your beloved mother had been dishonest with you, but also to be made aware that whatever concern you’d thought he had for you had no substance.”
“You can’t care about someone you don’t even know exists.”
“And then when he learned, he reacted badly.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Liyah wanted to lean into Sayed, but stopped herself from such a blatantly needy action. “The best I can figure out, the money Mom saved from not paying rent was what she pretended came from him.”
It had been an elaborate but necessary ruse as Hena had insisted on teaching Liyah about finances from a young age. Her own parents had not been forthcoming with Hena and she’d made some bad monetary decisions in her ignorance.
She’d been determined her own daughter would not be put in the same situation.
Hena teaching Liyah about finances resulted in her daughter being very aware of their own. The pretense of support payments had worked to conceal both of the big secrets her mother kept from Liyah.
“Not paying rent?” Sayed asked.
“Another thing she hid from me. Her father owned our apartment and allowed us to live there rent-free as long as Mom promised not to bring me to Zeena Sahra.”
“What?” Sayed’s expression registered
