She expelled a steady breath. “It’s boring, if I’m honest. Apparently I’m not expected to do much more than attend official functions and get busy making babies.” She winced at her insensitivity. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just because Jak and I aren’t ready for a pregnancy doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be thrilled for you.”
Eleanor ground her teeth together and resisted the urge to point out that Michelle had wanted a baby for years. It was the way of their relationship. Michelle accepted Jak’s unreasonable behaviour and dressed it up as ‘their’ choice, rather than allow him to bear the brunt of family disapproval. But it was wearing thin for Eleanor. “I didn’t mean that we’re having a baby, Shell. I just mean that I don’t seem to have much to offer besides my womb.” And even that was tinged for her now. What had he said? That he wished his heir was not to be of the Rami family?
“That’s ridiculous,” Michelle retorted hotly. “Have you talked to Aki?”
Eleanor watched as the little bird began to pull at a piece of leaf with its grey beak. Tenaciously, he worked the springy greenery until it gave a little. “Not yet.”
“Why not?”
That was an excellent question. Eleanor thought about it for hours after disconnecting the call with Michelle. He was her husband. She’d come to his country. She was living in his palace. She’d attended every function she’d been expected to appear at. All without complaint. But what did he think she was doing with her time, besides that? Yet another week had passed since their wedding, and she’d barely seen him.
Since that one bone-melting kiss in the walkway, they’d said perhaps twenty words to one another.
“Ellie? Why don’t you just talk to him?”
Eleanor let out a slow sigh. “He’s the Sultan. Not my personal diary manager. It’s not up to him to keep me entertained.”
“He’s your husband.”
How could Eleanor begin to explain? Her position felt tenuous at the best of times. “I’ll think about it.” She rung off with a small frown on her face. Beyond her window, the day was warm and clear. Not as hot as the last few days, there was a slight breeze rustling the palm fronds. With a grunt of frustration she reached for a hat and pushed out of her room. Immediately, two attendants fell into step beside her.
It added to her already frayed temperament. “I’m fine.” She said dismissively. “I’m only going into the palace grounds. Please let me be.”
She stalked away before they could argue.
In the fortnight since marrying Aki, she’d gathered little bits and pieces of information. She knew the palace was centuries old; that it sat on a piece of land that was considered to be sacred to the Talinese. That it was designed with war in mind, with walls that were reinforced with four layers of stone beneath the marble façade. She knew that the same springs of water that served parts of the capital also serviced the palace, meaning the garden was lush and verdant even in the middle of a heatwave in the desert.
She’d looked out at the grove of fruit trees beside the palace for days now. Apples and oranges jostled with figs and bananas. Eleanor plucked an apple from a tree, wiped it in her hands and then took a bite. The crunch was satisfying; the flavour delicious. She made a small sound of pleasure as a little juice dribbled down her chin. It could have been the beauty of the day, but she could have sworn the apple was imbued with special sweetness.
She nibbled it down to its core as she walked, then tossed it beneath another tree. The action knocked loose a different fruit. One she hadn’t seen in her life. Curious, she bent down and picked it up, and turned it over in her hands. It was a dark green, almost grey, with a furry skin and little bumps at irregular intervals. She brought it to her face and sniffed it. The fragrance was nice. Sweet like honey. As she lifted it again, preparing to bite it, a voice caught her attention.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Irrationally guilty, she spun around to see Aki’s friend Ryan walking indolently towards her.
She lowered the fruit and looked at him curiously. “Why not? Is there some penalty for taking fruit from the orchard?”
His grin was disarming. He had a casual lope to his walk, and a lack of artifice that was refreshing. He was very handsome. Tanned skin, blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and even white teeth. His physique was strong and muscled, like someone who worked outdoors. And yet he did nothing for her. Not a single fibre of her body vibrated with longing when he approached her. Apparently, Aki alone could stir that reaction.
“It’s poisonous,” he said with a wink, reaching down and taking the fruit from her hand. He tossed it away. “These are Desert Ilati trees.”
“Poisonous?” She stared at the spectacular foliage in surprise. “Why the heck is it in the orchard?”
“Ah.” He winged his thick, fair brows at her in a sign of a shared joke. “It’s a trap.”
“A trap?”
“Ancient Talinese wisdom… that intruders and the unworthy will be drawn to the fruit because of its size and fragrance. More fool them, for the true bounty comes from the pedestrian, rather than the extraordinary.”
She looked at him in surprise. “I know that story. It’s the legend of Miraya, isn’t it?”
“Very good,” he complimented with true surprise. “You’ve been reading your histories.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It was a story Papa used to read me as a child. I grew up with an eclectic mix of Talinese folk tales and Disney movies.” She wrinkled her nose. “I used to despise the popular girlhood fantasy of marrying a prince and becoming a princess. But look at me now.” It was said with such droll misery that he couldn’t help but laugh.
“A fantasy that became a reality?”
“Not my fantasy.” She felt a lurch of embarrassment as she recalled his part in the conversation that had wounded her so badly. “Contrary to popular belief, I never aspired to marriage to someone like Aki.”
He frowned, not quite sure where her acerbic statement had come from. “You’re an academic?”
She nodded. “International law.”
He had known that. It caused him to speculate just why she’d agreed to the marriage, and for the first time, he got a sense of Aki’s misgivings. For a beautiful young woman to give up a career she’d worked hard to attain seemed like a foolish move, especially given that she hadn’t known Aki from Adam.
“And you?” She asked, reaching up for another apple. “I presume this is safe?”
He nodded.
“Good. Otherwise I’d be keeling over about now. They’re delicious. Can I pick one for you?”
He laughed. “Sure, thanks.”
She plucked a large, red fruit from the tree, wiped it on her palm and then handed it to him.
“So?” She asked, swallowing her first mouthful. “How do you and Aki know one another?”
He let out a low whistle. “That’s a long story.”
“Tell me.”
“A command?” He asked with a wink.
“Can I do that? If so, then yes.” She sighed. “I have all day. It’s not like there’s an awful lot for me to do.”
He studied her face thoughtfully. “Are you bored?”
“I won’t be if you tell me something interesting,” she joked, taking another bite on her apple. They turned by silent but mutual consent down another corridor of fruit, heading back in the direction of the palace. “We were at school together. My parents were divorcing, and they decided I’d be better sent far away from the tabloids and all-out warfare. They sent me to the international school in Kalinad, because my father’s best friend was the principle. I didn’t speak any Talinese then, and I missed my friends something chronic. I met Aki on the first day. He caught a group of older boys in the middle of slapping me around a bit. He scared them off and earned my gratitude.”
Eleanor looked at him in surprise. Ryan was almost as tall as Aki and certainly as strong.
“Yeah, I had a late growth spurt. Back then, I was
a wimp.” He grimaced. “Now I work for Aki, and I love Talina. It’s my home.”
“Your accent is still pronounced.”
“Yeah. Don’t think I plan on shaking it.” He grinned. “It’s the most Australian thing about me.”
“I see.” She finished the apple and pitched the core across the grass. “And what work do you do for my husband?”
“I’m a financier. I control his investment fund.”
She lifted her brows. “Sounds onerous.”
“Actually, it’s a lot of fun. Playing with other people’s money is far better than gambling your own.”
She laughed. “I guess when you put it like that.”
“What are your first impressions of life as Emira of Talina?”
She looked up at him dubiously. “You’re Aki’s best friend?”
“Guilty as charged,” he grinned with a disarming nod.
She expelled an impatient breath. The need to confide in someone was great, but speaking too freely to this man would be a mistake. She had heard for herself the open nature of his relationship with Aki. Evidently they had no secrets. It would be foolish of her to think she could confide in either of them. “Fine,” she said with a tight shrug of her shoulders. She sensed he was waiting for more, and so she elaborated somewhat vaguely. “It is nice to be in a place my father has talked of so often.”
Ryan rubbed a hand across his jaw. “His exile must have been difficult.”
She shot him a sarcastic look.
“Understatement, huh?”
“He never wanted to be Sultan,” she said firmly. “Despite what Aki thinks. Despite what anyone thinks. My father is an academic, like me. Or rather, I guess I’m like him. He desired only the ability to read his books in peace and quiet, and the security of a home for his children.”
Ryan was quiet for a moment. “You resent Aki, and his grandfather, for the exile of your father?”
She shook her head. “I resent that it was seen to be necessary.” She felt the need to be circumspect and so smiled apologetically. “I resent that my father spent thirty years in a country he doesn’t understand, amongst a people he doesn’t really get. I resent that he was unable to return, even for vacations. That he feels he denied his daughters a chance to enjoy their heritage. All because of a stupid birth right he never had any intention of claiming.”
“Have you spoken to Aki about this?”
Ryan was the second person that day to ask her if she’d spoken to Aki. It was a perfectly normal consideration. He was, after all, her husband. He was also the person she found it hardest to communicate with on earth.
“No.” She tilted him a look. “The past is in the past. My father is now free to visit Talina as often as he likes, after all.”
Ryan nodded slowly. There was a hard edge to her words, and a small red flag was flying in his mind. He probed gently. “Aki is not as emotionally distant as he seems, you know. He takes time to crack, but once you do, he will be loyal to you for life.”
A flash of anger seared through her. She wasn’t sure the Sultan possessed a loyal bone in his body. “He will be loyal to me for life because he is my husband,” she said with a firm confidence that caught him off guard. “Any suggestion to the contrary is treasonous.”
His expression was filled with candour. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just felt a reserve in you, when you were speaking about Aki.”
“You are my husband’s best friend and confidante.” She stopped walking and looked up at the palace. “It is natural that I would feel a sense of reservation. After all, I’m quite certain you and he discuss everything in great detail. Which makes it difficult for me to bare my soul to you.”
He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Woah. I was only giving you a little insight from my years of experience with Aki. I didn’t mean to make you feel under siege.”
She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head back, focussing on the azure blue of the sky. “I’m sorry,” she said, finally. “I snapped at you.” She lifted a hand and rubbed the back of her neck. “It won’t happen again.”
“That’s okay,” he said quietly. She really was beautiful. And in a moment of contemplation, her expression was so sombre, her eyes so filled with sadness, that he thought she might actually cry.
“I’m just… working things out.” Her brave attempt at a smile made him feel even worse for her. “I suppose it’s all a little different to what I expected.”
He watched her for a moment. “Look, Aki is like a brother to me. He’s my best friend. I love him. But you’re his wife, and I know he’d want me to be here for you. You and I are both foreigners to this land. To its ways. Its fruit.” He joked, nodding towards the poisonous tree. “If I can help you settle in, I’m happy to.” He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, to catch her attention. “I mean it, ma’am. If you just want to talk to someone, you don’t need to worry I’m going to report back to Aki. I’m not like that, and nor is he.”
She covered her sceptical glance quickly. “Thank you.”
“Do you want another apple?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.” She began to move in a separate direction to Ryan, then stopped, and turned back to face him. “Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever call me ‘ma’am’ again.”
“What shall I call you, your highness?”
She poked her tongue out. “You can call me Ellie.” She shrugged. “That’s what most people call me.”
“Ellie. Suits you.”
“Thanks.” She turned back to the side entrance to the palace.
“Hey, Ellie,” he called when she was almost at the gate. She turned and squinted back towards the grove. “Cheer up. Your husband’s one in a million. You’re a real life Princess, whether you wanted it or not. Life ain’t so bad.”
She laughed and waved a hand. It had been a short conversation, but it had left her feeling substantially cheered. She stepped into the cool marble courtyard of the palace just as an idea occurred to her. “Excuse me,” she approached a servant with a smile. “Would you have twelve green apples collected from the orchard, and taken to the kitchens for my personal use?”
The servant didn’t express any surprise at the odd request. “Certainly, your highness.”
“Thank you.” She hummed as she went. She was not the woman Aki had accused her of being. She was not vapid. She was not a wall flower. She was smart, and courageous and a fighter, and she would make this life of hers work. She’d committed to Aki, and she’d damn well roll her sleeves up and make the most of being his wife.
The apples were perfect. Exactly twelve were lined up in a neat row on one of the stainless steel benches when she entered the large cavity.
The palace had over two hundred staff and guests in residence at any one time, and the kitchen housed a dedicated army to cater to their every whim. The team of more than a dozen chefs bustled about her in a way that made her feel almost invisible. Almost, but not quite. No one came within six feet of her. No one made eye contact with her. There was a deference towards the Emira that clearly marked her as unique.
She began to peel the apples one by one, enjoying the mundane familiarity of the chore. They were still warm from the beating sun. One by one, she replaced the pale fruits on the bench, until they were all finished. Making apple pie was a Rami family tradition. Her mother Katherine had won the state fair three years in a row with her grandma’s recipe. She’d handed it down to Michelle and Eleanor both, but it was only Ellie that truly captured the spirit of the pie.
On autopilot, she assembled the ingredients and kneaded the pastry by hand. The apples she cubed and tossed with cinnamon, sugar and currants, then added a little squeeze of lemon juice at the last minute.
Finally, she began to roll the pastry and assemble the pie in a heavy-duty tin. She popped it in the oven and set a timer on her watch. She wanted to remove it from the oven herself. That was the best moment. Well, almost the b
est moment. Taking the first bite was hard to beat.
The palace had, at first, seemed like a complex rabbit warren of luxurious rooms and hallways, but it was now familiar to her. She trailed the ground floor, towards Aki’s study. She had gleaned that he spent most of his day in either his study, or the pool beyond their rooms. She hazarded a guess that he would still be working.
As she approached his door, she heard his voice, and her skin began to crawl. It brought back a searing memory of the conversation she’d overheard, and her steps slowed of their own accord. But there was no return voice, only silence, and so she quickly surmised he was speaking on the phone. As to the content, his words were in his native language, and so indecipherable to her. She paused for a moment to gather her courage and then knocked on the door.
A brief beat passed and then the door was pulled inwards. Aki stood, phone cradled beneath one ear, an expression of concentration on his handsome face. He wore a slate grey shirt with jeans that showed off his tan and strong arms. And, as always, her heart turned over painfully in her chest. He was her husband. This awkwardness had to stop. She pushed past him and took a seat on one of the leather wing back chairs. Her body radiated a confidence that was completely assumed.
Aki studied his wife openly, as he put a swift conclusion to the call. His friend Tariq, Emir of Assan, had a problem that needed lengthy consideration and discussion. But at that moment, he was far more interested in what had brought Eleanor swanning into his study. Her shining brown hair was looped up into a bun, as it often was, and she was dressed head to toe in white. He came and leaned against his desk, beside her, so that he could see her face. No make up. She seemed only to wear it for official occasions. Around the palace, she was bare faced and beautiful. His lips quirked as he saw that she wasn’t completely bare faced now. On her cheek, there was a smudge of something white and powdery.
He reached over on instinct and rubbed the pad of his thumb over it. Eleanor seemed to startle, then lifted her own fingers and wiped at her face. Embarrassment was evident in her delicate features, and in turn, frustration puffed Aki’s chest. He said a final farewell to Tariq, and disconnected the call.
Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees... Page 67
