Epilogue
THE SOUND OF childish laughter rang out through the royal suites in the palace of Al Surrahin.
And even though Malik had heard that sound a thousand times over the last two years, he would never grow tired of it.
If it were down to him, Malik would ensure that these suites would be filled with it every day of the rest of his life.
Though his sheikha might have something to say about that.
He peered around the ornately carved wooden screen to find Hana chasing Kadar, their eighteen-month-old son, around a footstool, his chubby legs pumping furiously, but not getting him quite as far as he thought.
Hana threatened him with the tickles that so delighted him, and Kadar allowed himself to be caught.
Just had he’d been caught, Malik thought happily, wondering at the magic his beautiful wife wielded like the jinn he’d once compared her to.
She picked up their child, drew him to her and covered his little wriggling body with loud kisses that resulted in a squeal of such pure delight, Malik didn’t even try to cover his ears. That kind of joy, in these rooms?
He’d never thought he’d be able to bear even a single night here. But that was another part of his wife’s magic. Her ability to heal with the sheer, unrestrained, determined love she gave so unconditionally. She’d been immoveable in her insistence that they move into the royal suites.
He’d fought it for as long as he dared, but within months of their return to Al Surrahin from the island on the Persian Gulf, Malik had given in to her gentle but unwavering persuasion.
He’d not slept a wink the first night, but she’d been with him the entire time.
And when the morning came and the earth hadn’t broken and the world hadn’t ended, he breathed a sigh of relief that had been years in the making.
She had been the same with his lingering worries about children. She hadn’t laughed or mocked him—of course she hadn’t. She had met his fears with the same compassionate acceptance as she had met almost everything else.
And instead of leaving him to his thoughts, she’d talked with him until his fears had begun to lose their power.
She’d helped him to see that even if their child developed the same epileptic condition that he’d had, they would be there to support, love and help their child through whatever difficulties they faced; together, as a family.
‘What are you thinking about so seriously over there, husband?’ Hana said with a smile, without taking her eyes of their son.
‘What a miracle you are to me,’ he said, ready with a smile when she rolled her eyes at him.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Malik replied with mock indignance.
‘You’re after something. I know you,’ Hana said, her tone nothing but love.
‘Are you trying to imply that I am buttering you up in order to gain something?’
‘Yes!’ she cried with a laugh.
‘I am merely complimenting you, wife,’ he insisted as he chewed his cheek.
‘Mmm. No, when you compliment me it’s different,’ she insisted, her eyes gleaming with humour as she pressed a kiss to their son’s soft, downy head of hair.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, well, you call me beautiful, you say that I’m your heart, your eyes, your soul, all of which I love hearing. But miracle? I know you, husband. So I’ll ask you again, what are you after?’
His pulse started to race in his chest, his nerves getting the best of him. As if sensing the change in his feelings, she put Kadar down in his cot next to their bed.
‘What is it? Is everything okay?’ she asked as she closed the distance between them.
‘Yes,’ he rushed to reassure her, taking her in his arms, and pulling her to him. ‘I just…’
‘Malik. Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can ask me anything,’ Hana urged, as she looked up at him with nothing but love shining bright in her eyes.
‘I was wondering if…maybe…you’d like to…’ He nearly cursed himself, stumbling over his words like a foolish teenager. ‘If you’d like to try for another child,’ he finally got out.
His wife, perhaps for the first time in their four-year-long marriage, was utterly speechless. And she looked so adorably shocked, he couldn’t help but sweep in and steal a kiss from her partially opened mouth.
‘Do you mean it? Really mean it?’ she asked, delight and hope filling her voice when they’d finally pulled apart from a kiss that had unravelled a little more than he’d planned.
‘Yes,’ he replied, sincerely.
She knew his concerns, knew how much he’d worried with Kadar.
The birth had been difficult for them both, given what had happened to her mother.
And then, and even now, waiting to see if Kadar developed the same condition Malik had suffered from weighed upon him.
But those concerns, he realised, were the same for any parent, for anyone who loved another, who wanted the best for them, who wanted for them to never suffer, or hurt.
And with Hana by his side, he’d learned not to deny her—or himself—because of fear.
It was okay to be scared but true strength, he had learned from Hana, was to act in spite of that fear. To try, to honestly give it a go. With hard work and determination, as he’d heard her say more times than he could care to count.
‘I would love nothing more,’ Hana said to Malik, finally answering his question, filling him with the kind of heart-soaring happiness he could never have imagined he’d feel before meeting his wife.
‘Not even me?’ he teased.
‘Oh, you’re exempt from all the mores. Because I love you the most,’ she replied, her play on words delighting him.
‘I can live with that, my love,’ Malik replied.
‘Really?’ Hana demanded with a laugh. ‘You’re not going to try and compete with me?’
‘Why would I?’ he asked with a knowing smile. ‘My heart is yours. There is only one heartbeat between us. Can’t you hear it?’
She placed her head on his chest, tapped out the rhythm that bound them together and sighed, at peace and utterly content, just the way she had made him.
Through the rest of the years of Malik’s rule, taking care of Al Surrahin on behalf of his young nephew, through the happiness of their own children and the hardships of their losses, his brother, and then her father, they stood side by side, hands together, fingers entwined, just like their hearts.
Every birthday, celebration, milestone, was enjoyed with the knowledge that what they had, what they shared, was something so special, so incredible, so magical, so precious, they never doubted it again.
For the prince had found his princess, and in doing so, found what had many names, but the most common, the most well-known, was simply this: true love.