Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
S he now knew the way to the Consulate office and so, wearing a burka to preserve her anonymity, she left the palace and walked quickly through the city—its sights and smells now beginning to feel familiar to her. Almost like a home.
Anger fueled her every step. How could he have said the words he’d said to her, done what he’d done to her, while all along knowing he’d be marrying someone else within a few weeks? She could hardly believe it was the same man. But she’d heard his words with her own ears. She could feel a grief welling up inside of her, but she refused to acknowledge it. She knew that would come later. But now she had a job to do. Because if Kadar imagined he could keep her somewhere close by—a mistress to visit when he’d had enough of his wife—he had another think coming.
It didn’t take long to gain admission to the consul’s office. It seemed mentioning the king’s name could gain her entrance to the highest authorities.
“It’s been a week,” she said, after refusing refreshments. “I realize that isn’t a long time to process a passport. But my circumstances have changed and I need that passport as soon as possible.”
To her surprise, the consul didn’t appear fazed, but sat back in his leather chair framed by views over the city and nodded.
“Of course. A week is more than long enough to issue another passport, providing we have all the information.”
“You have all the information.”
The consul frowned slightly and checked his computer. “Yes, we could have processed it immediately, but we were stuck without the appropriate paperwork.”
She frowned. “What paperwork? I passed what I had to the vizier’s office. He said he’d organize it for me. That it would be quicker that way.”
He looked with surprise at her over his glasses. “It might have been quicker if we’d received some other proof of identity. We have several options. People usually use a driver’s licence if they have that, or one of the other valid forms. Traditionally, of course, we prefer a birth certificate and Sheikh Nabil informed me that that would be what you’d be providing.”
“He did? That’s the first I’ve heard. I can’t even remember seeing a birth certificate. My grandfather organized my first passport and had it renewed for me ever since. But you say a driver’s licence will also work?”
“Of course, Miss Albright.” It was the consul’s turn to frown. “I recall Sheikh Nabil saying that there was no hurry, so we set it aside until the birth certificate turned up. Do you have the driver’s licence on you now?”
“Yes.” She rummaged in the bag she’d borrowed—like her clothes—from Kadar’s mother, found it immediately, and handed it to him.
“Yes, this will be fine.” He stood up. “Excuse me a moment and I’ll expedite matters. You’re welcome to wait and we should have it for you in a jiffy.”
The wave of relief swept away the anger, exposing the hard core of grief at Kadar’s betrayal. She’d thought they’d come closer and had genuine feelings for each other. Above everything else, she believed she could truly trust him. And he’d betrayed that trust in the vilest way possible. He’d used her. Her grandfather had been right to stay away from this country, where people said one thing and believed another. Where sons were like their fathers, no matter how much they denied it.
When the consul returned to the room, she was pacing the floor, desperately trying to stem the pressure of tears which were building. She refused to give way to it, not in public. And she needed to sort this out before taking the first step in her plan to escape.
But her heart sank when the consul returned to his office. His face was sombre and his frown was not promising.
“Please,” he said, with a formality which hadn’t been in his manner before, “take a seat.”
He sat opposite and cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“Er, Miss Albright, I’m sorry, but something has cropped up and, while we can issue you with a new passport, there’s no point. Just yet.”
“What? What are you talking about? What do you mean?”
“There won’t be any point because your passport won’t be sufficient.”
“Sufficient to do what? Surely a passport means I can travel and leave Sirun when I wish?”
He inclined his head. “Unfortunately, in exceptional circumstances—and these have been classed as that—a visa is required. Without this special class of visa, there’s a possibility you could be arrested as soon as you set foot outside the consulate. It’s only the letter which the king has given you temporarily which prevents this from happening. As soon as your passport is issued, the letter is null and void—your protection gone.”
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. She blinked and shook her head. “Arrested? How could I be? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He looked serious. Far too serious.
She cocked her head to one side. “Have I?” She was beginning to doubt herself.
He sighed and pursed his lips. “Only you can answer that.”
She leaned forward, a wave of nausea bringing her out in a clammy sweat. “Of course I haven’t.” What had Kadar done? What had his vizier done? And why? “Why would you even ask that?”
“Well, as part of our agreement with the government of Sirun, anyone who is a ‘person of interest’ to the government requires a specific type of visa. And gaining that visa is far more complex than simply issuing a passport. In most cases, it’s merely a formality, but it is a formality which we must adhere to.”
“So… you’re saying I’m a person of interest to the government?”
“That is correct.”
“And that usually means the person is some kind of political risk? Maybe has a criminal record of some kind?” She was doing her best to keep her voice level, the anger and rising fears suppressed.
He nodded. “Indeed.”
“Then,” she said, rising slowly and gripping the sides of the desk, staring across the computer at him, “why on earth should I be a person of interest to this country?”
He looked more and more uncomfortable. “That is indeed a question I asked.”
“And the answer you received?” she prompted when it was clear he didn’t know how to proceed.
“That you… and His Highness, Sheikh Kadar al-Hadar, have,” he shrugged, “some kind of liaison which means you come under a specific clause which requires security checks at the highest level. It seems, Miss Albright, that your movements are of importance to the government.”
“The government, or King Kadar?”
He shrugged again. “Possibly both.”
She sat back in her chair and rubbed her forehead, which was thumping with tension. “I don’t understand. Yes, I know the king, but there is nothing political in our…” She hesitated, groping to find the right word—“friendship.”
“You must understand, Miss Albright, that there is little that is purely personal in this country. Especially when it comes to the royal family. The personal is very political for them. I’m afraid you’ve found yourself in the middle of a complicated web of political intrigue.”
She stilled, her eyes narrowing on the consul. “How so?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I suspect the answer lies with your grandfather.”
“My grandfather?” But as soon as she repeated the words, she realized it was more than her love affair with Kadar. There was nothing political, nothing of strategic importance there. No, there was something in her family history which Kadar and his vizier knew that she did not. And he’d kept it from her. Now she thought about it, he’d never said that he’d known of her parents’ death, or that he hadn’t known. He’d simply avoided the topic and had always changed the conversation.
Was everything Kadar had said a lie? She felt sick to her stomach at how easily she’d been manipulated. She’d fallen for him hard, and he’d used that for his own ends. She didn’t know what those ends were, because he’d kept her in the dark. For good reason, no doubt. And for a reason which she was determined to uncover, just as soon as she’d returned to the palace.
She looked at the consul directly. “Can you help me extricate myself from this mess?”
He pulled a face. “Regrettably, not until the paperwork has been signed. If we act prematurely, if we don’t do as the government requires, then our relationship with Sirun could be jeopardized. There’s more at stake here than your passport, Miss Albright.”
She nodded. She guessed he was telling the truth. He couldn’t help her. And if the government couldn’t help, then it was down to her.
“Then I have no option,” she said, walking to the door.
“Please, I strongly advise you don’t do anything rash,” said the consul, also rising to his feet.
She turned to him then. “Rash? My options are severely limited. I think ‘rash’ might be the only course of action available to me. I need to do some digging around my family in Sirun and then I’ll discuss this with the person who’s created this mess. It’s the only way open to me now. In the meantime, I ask that you do whatever you can to order a birth certificate for me. It’ll help expedite the paperwork and I’ve a feeling that the answer might lie there.”
“Certainly. If you come with me, I’ll get a clerk to work on your case. At least that’s something we can do to help. I apologize again, Miss Albright, but my hands are tied.”
He smiled, but his smile fell when there was no answering one. Because, once more in her life, she was on her own and she had no choice but to do battle to get herself out of this mess. And the only way she could think of was to find out what the hell they knew about her that she didn’t. Only then would she confront them. Knowledge was power. And she didn’t have that. Not yet, anyway.