Chapter 18
Myala walked into the middle of the suite her father had reserved for their stay here in Ditra. Looking around, she wondered what her living quarters would be like once she married Sheik Falk. Shivering with anticipation, she moved towards the coffee cart that had been delivered.
“Good morning, Father,” she said, kissing his cheek as she passed him by.
“Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?”
“Not really,” she admitted with a heavy sigh as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She eyed the heavy cream that her father put into his coffee, then shook her head, smoothing a hand over her flat stomach.
No cream until she’d snagged Sheik Falk. After that, she could let herself gain a bit of weight. If he complained, she’d simply tell him that she needed the extra fat stores to help her become pregnant. Men knew nothing about women’s bodies. They believed anything women told them. Correction, they believed anything women told them as long as it suited their personal goals. If something about women’s bodies inconvenienced their world order, like a woman needing a bit more time sexually, or if she might be in pain, then men ignored those issues.
Mentally grumbling to herself, she perched prettily on a nearby chair. “Do you have any business with Sheik Falk today?” she asked.
Her father looked up at her over his glasses, giving her that patronizing smile that she hated. “Not that I know of,” he replied. “I’m only here in a ceremonial capacity this week. You know that. We’re trying to demonstrate that our countries are united as a region.” He lowered the file he’d been reviewing to his lap and folded his hands over his crossed legs. “I have meetings with the generals here in Ditra, and those generals will travel to Itim in the next few months for more of these silly, ceremonial photo opportunities.” He waved a hand negligently. “It’s all for the public and seems like a monumental waste of my time. But you know how I follow orders precisely.”
She did know that, Myala thought and looked down at her coffee. “You’re right, Father,” she replied. Then she had an idea. “Are you going to attend any of this week’s festivities?” she asked. She hadn’t been invited to the wedding week’s festivities. But she knew that her father could easily wrangle an invitation to some of them through his military counterparts!
“I hadn’t planned on attending, but if you’d like to go to some of the more entertaining events, I’m sure that I could get you on the guest list.” He still sounded patronizing, but Myala didn’t complain since he was following right along with her plans. “Is that the goal of your little eye lash fluttering moment?”
Myala gritted her teeth and forced her mouth into a smile. “Yes, Father. That’s exactly what I’d hoped for.” She hadn’t fluttered her lashes, she thought resentfully to herself, taking a sip of her coffee.
“If it means that you might find a husband that will give me grandbabies to spoil, then I’m more than happy to help.”
Myala wondered what her father would say if she tried to find a job. Then she snorted out loud. As if she were made to work at a job! She glanced at her manicure, approving of the perfect pink color. No, she wasn’t made to work at a tedious job. She was meant to be a wife and a mother. But she’d been raised to be a wife to an important man, and there wasn’t anyone as important as their illustrious leader.