Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
“ Y our mother?” Of all the visitors, Soraiya hadn’t even imagined it would be his mother.
“Yes. And I don’t want you to meet her.”
“But why is she here?”
Zak’s face paled and then darkened as if turned into thunder. Never had she seen him so furious. So ice-cold angry. She turned to his vizier.
“Aabid, why is Her Royal Highness here? And at such a strange time?”
“She says she’s here to see you. She has something to talk with you about.”
Under her hand, Zak’s arm trembled with rage. “How dare she evade our security and enter my palace with demands!”
“Zak,” she breathed. “It’s fine. Let’s meet her. I’m sure if we talk calmly, we can sort this out. She must have a good reason to be here, and it’s best we know what it is so we can deal with it.”
Zak couldn’t very well deny her logic and gave a brief, unwilling nod before turning to his vizier with a sigh. “Very well, then. Show her to my office. We’ll be along in a few minutes.”
His vizier withdrew, just as the staff entered with dinner. Soraiya looked up in surprise, and told them to take it away again, that they wouldn’t be dining until later. It seemed an age ago that she’d asked for dinner to be served. An age when her hopes and thoughts were centered on something completely different. But that would have to wait. She needed to calm Zak down, and get him in more of a conciliatory mood if she were to mend bridges between him and his mother. Perhaps she’d been given the opportunity to heal their differences. She knew first-hand how poisonous a dysfunctional family could be.
“Zak?” she said, putting her arms around him. “I’m sure it will be all right.”
“Are you? I’m not.”
“But why would she have come if not to apologize, to extend an olive branch? You’re her son. She must miss you.”
He shook his head. “Soraiya, you don’t know her, and I’d hoped you never would. But it looks as if we have to meet her in order to make her leave. Quietly.”
“I would not have her ordered out of Sirun. It wouldn’t be respectful.”
“My mother respects no one, so it wouldn’t bother me. However, if you’re ready, let’s meet her. Get this over with.”
They walked quickly in silence the short distance to the office where they’d meet the Sheikha Alishaba. Soraiya sensed Zak was lost in thought, no doubt attempting to figure out what had brought the mother he hated back into his world so unexpectedly. And she didn’t want to say anything in case he changed his mind and they’d return to their rooms without seeing the sheikha.
Soraiya knew the sheikha had done wrong, but couldn’t believe that the mother of two sons would put riches above love. And she thought she could have a role to play in brokering a peace between them. Instinctively, she caressed her flat stomach at the thought of her son being brought up with a grandmother who was welcomed into their family, not shunned and despised. She didn’t want any child of hers to be raised in hatred: family against family.
At last they arrived and Zak strode straight in with Soraiya by his side. They were greeted with the sight of Sheikha Alishaba airily waving a framed photograph in one hand in some kind of greeting, while taking a sip of champagne with the other. A newly opened bottle stood in an ornate silver ice bucket. Drinking alcohol was permitted for visitors but rarely occurred. That the king’s mother drank in the palace shocked her.
“Mother,” he said.
“Darling,” she said, turning on a broad smile. Her full dark red lips stayed smiling, as if she were delighted at finding herself confronted by a patently aggressive son. She replaced the photograph and picked up a lit cigarette.
“Don’t ‘darling’ me! I want to know what you’re doing here. I expressly forbade you to come here, and yet you’ve had the gall to return.”
She narrowed her eyes as she sucked on her cigarette in a holder before blowing the smoke out at him. “I’m your mother. This is my country. Of course I can come and go as I like.”
He ignored her reply. “How did you get in? How did border control allow you access?”
This was all news to Soraiya. She had no idea that he’d actually banned his mother from entering the country.
“You came on a false passport, didn’t you?” He shook his head and paced away before turning on his heels and looking back at her. Soraiya was shocked at the look of pure hatred on his face.
Sheikha Alishaba shrugged. “I do what I need to do.”
“Why have you come when you know you’re not welcome?”
Alishaba pointed to Soraiya with her cigarette, dropping ash on the carpet as she did so. “To meet my lovely new daughter-in-law, of course.”
Soraiya placed a placating hand on Zak’s arm and looked up into his eyes, pleading with him to give the meeting a chance. He answered it with a huff and walked away, poured himself a glass of champagne, and knocked it back.
Sheikha Alishaba turned to Soraiya, placed her hands on her shoulders as if inspecting her face. For the first time, Soriaya noticed how Alishaba’s heavy make-up and perfectly coiffured hairstyle masked her age.
“You are a beauty,” Alishaba said. “No one told me that.”
Soraiya blanched at the back-handed compliment. “Your Royal Highness,” muttered Soraiya. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
“I’m sure it must be, Soraiya.” She cocked her head to one side. “May I call you that?”
Soraiya nodded. “Of course.”
“Good. Then, in which case, please call me Ali.”
Soraiya was pretty sure she was never going to call this formidable woman “Ali”. But it didn’t look as if the sheikha had any interest in her because she immediately turned to Zak.
“And you, Zakariyya, are you pleased to see me too?” She folded her bare, elegant arms, the gold bracelets jiggling noisily. Her fingers were bright with jewels.
“You know I’m not. After what you did to me, to Kadar, to Sirun, I didn’t think you’d ever dare to show your face here again.”
The sheikha’s smile didn’t slip, but her eyes grew a shade colder again.
“And yet, here I am.”
“And what I want to know is why you’re here.”
“First things first. How about you show a little of the famed Sirun hospitality and sit down with me, give me a little time to get to know your lovely wife?” She flicked a vaguely disinterested look at Soraiya.
“Yes,” said Soraiya, picking up the sheikha’s meaning, thinking that maybe things could still be salvaged. “Please, take a seat”—she hesitated—“ Ali , and I’ll arrange for some refreshments.”
Alishaba waved a dismissive hand. “I have all I need,” she said, picking up the champagne glass once more and taking a seat.
Soraiya followed and sat down to one side, glancing anxiously at Zak who stood undecided for a few moments, before joining them, standing with his back to the grand painting of his forebear, looking just as haughty, just as autocratic. His mother also seemed to have noticed.
“Being king suits you, Zak. Although I have to say I’m surprised. I never thought your brother would abdicate for love.” She scoffed. “And I never thought you’d leave the pleasures of the west for this place.”
“Well, that just shows how much you know either of us.”
She shrugged, and turned to Soraiya. “But you have your lovely new wife to help you. I hear great things about you, Soraiya.”
“Really? From whom?” Soraiya couldn’t help asking. She was sure it wouldn’t be her father.
The woman smiled, but Soraiya didn’t feel any warmth behind it.
“The French delegation, of course, my dear. They’ve said marvelous things about you.” Alishaba tapped the ash off her cigarette. “Especially Madame Cardusi.”
“The French delegation!” exploded Zak. “What the hell have you been doing, talking to them?”
Alishaba’s smile didn’t waver. She held her cigarette out and the smoke wreathed around the room like a snake. “We go back a long way. Before your time. Yes, she said if it hadn’t been for what you could bring to the deal, they wouldn’t have gone for Zakariyya’s proposal in any way, shape or form.”
“Now we’re getting to it,” said Zak dangerously, “the real reason you’re here. May as well forget the niceties and come straight out with it.”
The sheikha laughed. But it wasn’t pleasant laughter, it was the laughter of someone who thought she held the advantage.
“Oh, Zak!” she said, cocking her head to one side to blow out another plume of smoke. She laughed again and daintily plucked a piece of tobacco from her tongue. “You should see your expression. It was worth coming here just to see that!” Before he could respond, she continued. “Maybe you’d like to know why I sought Madame Cardusi out?”
“Not really,” he said. “I think that’s pretty obvious. You wanted to find out what was going on between them and us.”
The sheikha gave an amused grunt. “You were never this predictable, Zak. Must be married life.” This time, she didn’t even bother to look at Soraiya.
“Quit the insults and get to the point, will you?” growled Zak.
“I went to see her because I thought she had the right to know exactly who she was dealing with before everything fell apart on them.”
“You’re talking nonsense. Nothing is going to fall apart.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked. “Zak, you’re missing the obvious. Marriage has also stunted your senses. Think . What is it that sits at the crux of all of this?”
He glared at her in silence.
The sheikha looked from one to the other of them. Then settled her gaze on Soraiya.
“It’s land, isn’t it Soraiya? The land which you are due to inherit from your grandmother as her only true granddaughter.”
Soraiya nodded. She couldn’t very well contradict the sheikha because the land was, indeed, the whole reason for their arranged marriage in the first place.
“But it seems that DNA sample you gave for that ancestry site your cousin asked for has thrown the cat among the pigeons.”
Zak looked at Soraiya. “DNA sample? When was this?”
“My cousin asked if I would. She wanted it for our family tree. I didn’t think there would be any harm in it. It was about six months ago.”
Zak looked back at his mother. “Go on. What cat? What pigeons?”
“Well, my darling son, it seems your new wife isn’t who she claims to be.”
Soraiya’s mouth dried in shock. But it had the opposite effect on Zak. He walked over to his mother, towering over her, fury imprinted on his features.
“You’ve said enough! I want you out of here this instant.” He strode over to the door and called some guards who came running, closely followed by an anxious-looking vizier who’d obviously been loitering, concerned as to what was playing out behind closed doors.
“Fine!” said his mother. “The more the merrier. Let everyone hear.” She opened her arms theatrically wide. “Her Royal Highness Queen Soraiya is not the natural daughter of His Highness, the King of Ra’nan. His blood does not run in her veins. Not to put too fine a point on it”—her eyes narrowed as she looked at Soraiya, and Soraiya’s blood ran cold—“she is a fraud.”
There was a collective gasp.
“Ha!” the sheikha said, turning an amused look to her son. “If looks could kill!”
Zak roared and strode across the room toward his mother. Before Soraiya knew what she was doing, she found she’d leapt between the two of them. It was all to do with her and she didn’t want it to end up in something even worse because his mother was right, Zak’s look could kill. And she wanted no bloodshed.
“Enough!” said Zak. Soraiya had never seen this furious side to him. “I want you gone from here immediately. You’ve had your fun, now leave!”
“Wait!” Soraiya said. “This is just hearsay.”
“You obviously haven’t checked out the website,” said Alishaba, “or been in contact with your cousin.”
“I want you out, now!” shouted Zak. “Guards!” They stepped forward, but Soraiya instinctively stopped them.
“No,” said Soraiya quietly.
It was his mother who looked at her in surprise. “The mouse has a voice,” she said sarcastically.
Zak hadn’t even heard her. No doubt the blood was pounding in his veins, the fury making him deaf to her quiet voice. It was his mother’s comment which made him turn to Soraiya.
“What?”
Soraiya gripped her hands to give herself courage. “I said, ‘no’. Your mother should stay.”
He put his hands on his hips and turned his full frown onto her. “There is no way I’ll allow my mother to stay in Sirun, let alone the palace, after what she’s said here tonight. I told you she was poison, and that’s exactly why she came here—to destroy everything we’re trying to build.”
She lifted her chin to meet his fierce gaze. “I know what she’s done.”
Another snort of laughter came from Alishaba standing behind him. He gritted his teeth.
“But,” Soraiya cleared her throat and her voice emerged stronger, “we need to discuss this—with her, with my father. We can’t ignore this.”
“Damned right, you can’t,” said his mother. “Because it will mean the end to all your plans, Zak,” she said in a song-song voice, taunting him.
At that moment, Soraiya knew Zak wouldn’t weaken.
“Guards!” he said in a low, intense voice which had them hastening toward the sheikha. “Show her out of the palace.”
The sheikha shook off the guards’ hands, poured herself another glass of champagne, lifted it to Soraiya. “Here’s to you and getting yourself out of this mess. Because he won’t want you now. No one will.” She slugged back the drink and walked to the door. She nodded at the vizier, who glared at her. Then she continued out, followed by the two guards.
The vizier shook his head and closed the door on Zak and Soraiya.
Zak started over to the door.
“Zak! Where are you going?” asked Soraiya, unable to keep the desperation from her voice.
“To see Aabid. It seems we have important things to discuss.”
“So have we. Please Zak.”
He paused with his back to her. He turned slowly. “Tell me. Did you know?”
“Of course not. I don’t believe it, anyway. If I’d suspected I’d hardly have had a DNA test done, would I?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps a part of you wanted to know for sure. But whatever, it’s not worked out as you thought. And it certainly hasn’t worked out as I’d ever imagined.”
With that, he walked out, leaving Soraiya alone in her devastation.