CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
T HEY WENT UP to the observatory.
Her legs were shaky from the sex, and from the endless excitement he brought to her soul.
‘You should first see the stars lying down,’ Sahir told her as they reached the top. ‘Close your eyes.’
She stood, eyes closed, and felt it was oddly silent. The echoes from the stairwell were gone, and the air was very cool. She could feel it on her exposed breasts. He took her hand and she walked on cold stone.
‘When did you work it out?’ he asked.
‘I was reading on the bed...’ She paused, frowning, as beneath her feet she suddenly felt a soft rug.
‘Keep your eyes closed and lower yourself.’
She wanted to feel behind her, but she held his hands and lowered herself down—not to a cold, hard floor, but onto a soft cushion.
‘How...?’
‘No questions,’ Sahir said. ‘Lie back.’
It was disorientating. Her body was braced to be lying on stone, but instead she felt enveloped in silk.
Violet lay waiting as he joined her and took her in his arms. ‘Can I look now?’
‘When you are ready.’
She could never have been ready.
Violet opened her eyes, and nothing could have prepared her for the feast in the sky. There were more stars than she could even begin to count. Everywhere her eyes fell there were more, yet more, and everything she’d thought she knew or believed, or didn’t know and did not believe, vanished—because she was staring at something so impossible, so divine, it was impossible not to lie there in awe. The sight was impossible to fathom...silvers, pinks, blues, gold. Endless beauty.
‘I’ll never forget this,’ Violet said, gazing into the magnificence. ‘How do you even begin to learn about them?’
‘Hakaam is the last of his school. He was one of seven. They learned from ancient almanacs, or calendars, first written in clay. Even as he passes on his knowledge, they still discover more.’
He showed her the stars, some planets...
‘Spica...’ He guided her to the tiny light. ‘That is actually two stars—maybe more—so close together, orbiting each other.’
‘How close?’
‘Eleven million miles apart.’
Unfathomable.
Like them.
‘I know we can’t last,’ she said again, staring up to the sky. ‘I know that, but I wouldn’t change things.’
‘You’re a pessimist.’
‘Yes.’
‘What happened to sunny, happy Violet?’
‘I don’t have to be her when I’m with you.’
‘You don’t.’
‘I’m scared you’ll marry and bring your wife to visit Carter and Grace...’
‘Violet.’ He halted her. ‘Can I ask you to trust me enough to know that I shall sort this out?’
‘I don’t see how.’
‘Nor do I yet,’ Sahir admitted. ‘You’re a very new puzzle.’
She turned to look at him, and he truly was as stunning as the sky. ‘I’m scared I’ll only be your lover.’
‘Do you really think I’d want that?’
‘Yes.’ Violet nodded. ‘If that’s the only way.’
She sat up and tucked up her knees, looked at all the lovely cushions and rugs. There were even jugs and glasses and little sweet treats.
‘Did the maids do this?’
‘No, my mother taught me. I didn’t realise it at the time, but she was teaching me all the secret places...’
‘To take a lover?’
‘She was romantic. I guess she wanted me to be too.’
‘Well, she taught you well.’
‘I’m furious with my father, Violet,’ he admitted. ‘We have never got on, but we have always worked together well. I don’t see how we can now.’
‘You have to.’
‘I don’t know... He should know better than to mess with my private life.’
‘It’s not just him, Sahir, it’s the council, the elders... Of course they want you married to someone suitable to have heirs.’
‘I told them maybe when I am forty.’
She inhaled sharply, understanding now what he’d been saying that first night, and she hated it that she cried. Because five years from now...
‘Come here.’ He pulled her down into his arms as she cried, and it felt nice. ‘I’m going to fight for us,’ he told her.
She gave a mirthless, tear-choked laugh and tried to pull away. ‘I don’t believe you, Sahir. Nobody’s ever fought to keep me.’
It was, Sahir knew, going to take more than a few nights to wipe out a lifetime of hurt for her. And even though he didn’t tell her, Sahir could not see how.
They slept, bathed by the stars, and in his arms she was perfection.
Sunrise woke him.
Sahir looked at Violet’s soft, round cheeks. They were usually pink, sometimes blushing, occasionally pale with anger, even fear, like when she’d first bravely faced him here. This morning, though...
He could not quite say. Perhaps they were the palest pink, and yet she was glowing. The desert sun had added little freckles to her nose, and as he put up a hand and touched her cheek it felt like a soft petal...
‘Morning...’ she said.
‘We have to go,’ Sahir said. ‘Pria will be arriving to escort you to breakfast soon.’
‘That’s right.’
They had to hide all the cushions in some cupboards and he locked them away.
‘Did your mother teach you that too?’
‘She did.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘She was a bit...wild.’
‘She was wonderful,’ Violet said. ‘Well, her taste in poetry was impeccable. There was one I read last night...’ Violet stopped.
‘Please don’t tell me any more about my mother’s private life.’
‘I won’t.’
Only that hadn’t been the reason she’d stopped talking. Her head was spinning as she thought about the words in that poem as Sahir led her down the stairs. So much so that she went to the wrong entrance and was about to press the handle.
‘Violet!’ He halted her, pointed to the gold sun etched into the door. ‘That would take you to my father’s wing.’
‘Whoops!’
‘Hurry! Have a quick wash and put on a fresh robe. Pria is always early.’
She was right about the meaning of that poem, Violet was certain. And even though she had to get ready for Pria, she was barely inside her room before she opened the poetry book and found the earmarked page.
This poem Anousheh had loved so, Violet had been so sure it was about the King...
Yet she frowned and read the lines again.
Or was it from the King?
‘Sahir...’ She dipped a piece of fruit in some honey as they shared a breakfast in the garden. ‘Do you think your parents ever...?’
He looked over.
‘Used the secret staircases?’
‘Violet!’ He laughed at the very notion.
‘Only...’ She stopped as more tea was poured and knew this really wasn’t the place to have this conversation.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ She smiled. ‘When is your flight?’
‘When I board,’ he said, and then conceded. ‘Now.’ He stood as Pria approached. ‘You’ll be okay?’
‘Of course.’
‘Go to the hammam,’ he suggested. ‘If you still ache.’
‘Oh, I do.’
He did not kiss her goodbye, but she didn’t need it to feel the warmth in his parting, and she knew he would come to her tonight, in the observatory.
Violet took her time to finish her breakfast, then went to stand at a huge arch as Sahir and his entourage walked through the Welcome Gardens, lingering to watch the royal jet soar into the sky.
Nervous about the future, she still dared to feel happy. She even wore a smile on her face as she walked through the central star and glanced up, thinking of last night and more certain with each step that she was right about Queen Anousheh.
Pushing the door open to her wing, she walked down the long corridor, then turned into her suite.
‘Bibi?’
She frowned, because the maid was crying. She met the unwelcome glare of Aadil.
‘What’s going on...?’
‘I was just moving your glass,’ Bibi sobbed.
Violet felt her heart plummet as she glanced down at the floor and saw the scattered stones—diamonds, emeralds and rubies—and the little square of silk Sahir had given to her the first day they’d met.
It was her worst nightmare...
‘What’s going on?’
She heard both Layla’s voice and her footsteps.
‘Oh...’ Her face fell when she saw the jewels.
‘They are Queen Anousheh’s,’ Aadil said. ‘I believe they have been missing for some time.’ As Layla went to scoop them up, he halted her. ‘Don’t touch them. We’ve called for the palace jeweller.’
Violet, when she should be protesting her innocence, was shivering.
‘I found them in the trunk.’ She felt as if she might vomit. ‘I left them there.’
She wasn’t crying or pleading, which astounded her, and she just let Layla take her by the shoulders and sit her down.
‘It’s a simple mistake.’ Layla glared at Aadil. ‘Please leave us.’
‘Not till the palace jeweller is here.’
It was dreadful—the awful silence as the jeweller arrived and with white gloves collected the stones, each and every one. It took ages.
Aadil took the square of silk.
Oh, why didn’t she say something? State her case?
Because it was hopeless.
She didn’t want to see the doubt in Sahir’s eyes, or the disappointment—or, on the impossible chance that he believed her, watch him having to defend her. To people who wanted her gone.
‘It’s a misunderstanding,’ Layla said, when all had left.
‘Why aren’t you with Sahir?’ asked Violet.
‘I’m on my day off.’ Layla smiled and took her cold hands. ‘It’s okay, you’re shocked. I am going to contact Pria. She can tell Sahir—’
‘No.’ Violet shook her head. ‘Please don’t.’
‘He has to know.’
‘Not yet.’ She shook her head again. ‘Not until I’ve gone.’
‘Violet? There’s no need for that.’
‘I’m not running away. If the police need to see me...’
‘No police.’
‘I just want to go home,’ she said. ‘As soon as possible. Can that be arranged, or should I do it myself?’
‘It can be arranged.’ Layla nodded sadly. ‘Of course.’
‘Thank you.’
She sat there for ages. Layla kept bringing tea, and even offered her some brandy.
‘I don’t like brandy.’ Violet stood. ‘I might go for a walk. Get some air before the flight.’
‘The pilot will be here in an hour, but you can still change your mind.’
‘I won’t.’
No, she’d spent a lifetime under a cloud of suspicion, and she was not living like that again. Furthermore, even as they’d made love last night, she’d known it was too wonderful to last.
She picked up the book, wanting to bury her face in something rather than actually read, just to see the next hour out.
She wandered blindly around the fragrant gardens, barely noticing the gorgeous blooms, wishing she’d known this morning that it would be their final goodbye.
Then she looked ahead and saw a man sitting beneath the shade of a tree and her heart stopped. For a tiny second she’d thought it was Sahir, but it was the King, sitting alone...
‘Your Majesty.’
‘This is my private garden,’ he snarled.
‘I got lost...’ She took a breath. ‘I’m leaving shortly. I wanted to say thank you.’
He huffed and waved her away. Only she found he didn’t scare her out here. Given where she’d visited her father, a pretty garden with one angry man really didn’t daunt her.
‘Leave me in peace,’ he snapped.
‘Of course,’ Violet said, and turned to walk away.
But then she looked at him, so upright and so rigid, so hostile.
So lonely?
‘I found something.’
‘I heard.’
He gave a mirthless laugh, and Violet knew he was referring to the jewels.
‘It’s a menu. I thought it might have been misplaced. I didn’t know if I should ask Sahir, or just ignore it, or...’
He looked over at her as she opened the poetry book and took out the folded card she’d slipped inside.
His hand was trembling a little as she handed the cream sheet of paper to him, and she swore that in those dark eyes there was the shimmer of tears. And then a smile had the years falling from his features, and the agony, and the grief...
‘Where did you find this?’
‘In the same trunk as those jewels—which were then planted in my room to put Sahir off me.’ The King glanced sideways. ‘Anyway, I found it in there. It’s a Christmas menu from the Savoy. There are little ticks...the Queen’s writing.’ Violet watched as he traced the handwriting. ‘She kept a lot of things.’
‘I didn’t know.’
And suddenly Violet was brave—perhaps because she was leaving. ‘That’s the Christmas before Sahir was born.’
The King didn’t move, didn’t blink, but she felt the silence in the quiet garden and knew he did not need to read the date on the lavish card. He recalled it exactly.
‘Have you told Sahir?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Not yet?’ he said accusingly. ‘If you are here to blackmail me, don’t bother. The elders would crush you—and anyway, who would care now?’
‘I don’t blackmail people,’ Violet told him, and knew that his threats were not really aimed at her, but born of fear. For if she had guessed correctly then this must be such a secret. ‘And I certainly haven’t told Sahir.’
‘You will,’ he accused.
‘No.’ Violet shook her head. ‘It’s not my secret to share.’ She stood still, thinking of the huge secret she had stumbled upon. ‘He ought to be told, though.’
‘Never.’
‘I thought as much. Would you like to...?’
‘What?’
‘Well, if you haven’t been able to talk about it with anyone...’ She knew that must hurt. ‘I would never say anything,’ Violet blurted out, and was rewarded with a disbelieving laugh.
She had been like that once—as a little girl she had smiled and laughed, but it had been an act. Inside she’d been pinched, refusing to trust a soul. Eventually, while she’d still guarded a lot of her heart, she had learnt to trust certain people—like Grace, Mrs Andrews before she’d got ill, an especially kind social worker, and lately Sahir.
Especially Sahir.
She had trusted her body to him...her heart. But, more, he had taught her to trust another person.
Herself.
That was Sahir’s gift to her, Violet realised. Trust in her own judgement. And that made her brave enough to persist—not with ‘the King’, but with this man who sat alone on the bench.
‘It must be hard not to talk about the times you two shared,’ she suggested gently. ‘I will have to go home and lie to my best friend...pretend I didn’t spend my time here having the most wonderful time.’
‘If she’s your best friend, why can’t you tell her?’
‘Because I don’t want to place her in the position of not telling her husband. And I don’t want things to be awkward in the future.’ Violet took a breath. ‘I am guessing Carter and Sahir will remain friends, and that means we’ll see each other on occasion.’ She could feel tears trickling down the back of her throat, but she swallowed them down. ‘Sahir and I agreed on the night we met to keep things just between us.’
The King remained silent, and Violet didn’t blame him for not trusting her.
‘Your Majesty...’ She nodded her head and was just about to walk off when the King suddenly spoke.
‘We met at a debating competition in London. Our universities were in the final.’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘My father was surprised when I put my hand up to do that.’
Violet smiled.
‘We managed one day alone. She wanted to try a British Christmas dinner.’ He laughed. ‘We thought mince pies would at least have meat in them, but instead they were filled with fruit.’
‘I can’t stand them,’ Violet told him.
She imagined expecting a mince pie to be full of meat, instead of sweet fruit, and it made her laugh.
The King reluctantly laughed too. ‘There was Christmas pudding...’
‘Yuk.’
He smiled.
‘Did you enjoy the meal?’
‘I can’t say the food was quite as I expected. But it was still the best meal of my life,’ he said fondly. ‘There were consequences, though...’
She guessed that meant Sahir! ‘A long lunch, then!’
He smiled at her cheeky response.
‘A very long lunch,’ he agreed.
He did not say they’d married because of Sahir, but it was very clear...
‘There was a lot of urgent discussion, the council met and with help from a couple of very select people my bride was “chosen”. Believe me, with all the unrest between our countries she would not normally have been considered. Except then...’ His voice grew husky. ‘She was the most wonderful queen. She brought passion and vigorous debate into every room, but peace into the desert and the gardens.’
‘Yet you hid your love? Even from your children?’
‘We had to. The King’s promise to the country is for a steady ruler, free from emotional ties to any other.’ He halted. ‘Very few people knew the truth, and they helped keep our secret at great personal risk.’
‘Can I ask something?’ Violet said, because truly she didn’t understand. ‘You loved your wife very much?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yet you don’t want the same love for your own children?’
‘Anousheh did. She had many projects, and changing the laws regarding marriage was one of her priorities. She knew it would be an uphill fight—we both knew.’ He grew serious then. ‘I always thought it was just nonsense, having to hide like a thief to be with my wife, having to treat her like a colleague. Yet, after I lost my queen I was...’
He said some words in Arabic.
‘It means distracted...wandering,’ he told Violet. He looked at her. ‘There is a reason why love is not always wise. I was lost for at least two years. At the time there was a lot of instability with some neighbouring countries. Had it not been for the guidance of Aadil and his father I might have made some less than wise choices.’
He shook his head.
‘I never want that kind of danger for my people.’ He glanced over at her. ‘To lead a troubled country when grieving is an agony... I wouldn’t wish that on an enemy, let alone my son. You can support him quietly, be there, but...’
‘Not fully?’
‘Correct.’ He nodded. ‘I’m offering you a compromise.’
‘I’m tired of compromising.’
Violet stared at her hands, placed together in her lap, recalling Sahir’s fingers closed around her own. She gripped her own fingers tighter, offering her own support to herself.
‘Your son has taught me that I deserve better than to be second best.’
‘Think about it.’
‘I want a family of my own,’ Violet said. ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted. And, while Queen Anousheh sounds incredible, I’m no good at debate, nor playing on the other side.’
‘Will you tell Sahir?’
‘No. I gave you my word.’
Violet wanted to tell him that that he, too, had been entitled to love, but his secret was too big and so she shook her head. She thought of Sahir...how he hated the memory of that final conversation he’d had with his mother...how he loathed Aadil, when in truth, he was on their side.
‘I do wish you’d tell him,’ she said.
‘No.’
‘Please?’
‘I said no.’ The King was clearly regretting that this conversation had even taken place. ‘What time is your flight?’
‘Soon.’
Violet stood there, sad and defeated, because she did not know how to fight, how to be mean, how to persuade another person just to get what she wanted. But she would stand up for Sahir.
‘He told his mother off,’ she told the King. ‘That was the last conversation he had with her. He was trying to protect her from being caught...’ But, no, she could never play mean. ‘You have my word, Your Majesty.’