Chapter 46
Two months after the honeymoon
“I didn’t want everyone to know yet.”
“Why not?” Jazmina asks.
“I don’t know. It feels like that’s all anyone talks about now. I’m shy. It bothers me, this invasion of privacy. Even the European magazines have written about my pregnancy. I get anxious every time I see another story about our family in the media.”
“I get it, but it comes with the territory, Adeela. I don’t think you fully understood what you were getting into when you married my brother, but now you do. Your life will be under a spotlight forever. Especially after everyone found out it’s a boy.”
I smile, remembering Kaled’s face when the ultrasound revealed the baby’s gender. He was convinced we were having a girl, but my intuition told me otherwise.
“Have you two picked a name yet?”
“Not yet. We’re making a list, but we might wait until he’s born, see which one fits him best.”
“Are you happy?” she asks.
“Very. I never pictured myself pregnant, even though ever since he asked me to marry him, I’ve known I wanted children. But when I found out . . . knowing there’s a life growing inside me . . . it’s incredible. I feel whole.”
She laughs and hugs me. “You know I’m going to be the clingiest aunt in history, right?”
I nod. “When are you leaving?”
“I decided to postpone it for a semester or two. There’s no way I’m leaving before my baby nephew is born.”
“Your sisters will be jealous.”
Jazmina and Kaled already have several nieces and nephews from their other siblings.
“I don’t care. Our little sheikh will be my favorite, because he’s the son of the sister I chose and the brother I love most.”
“That sounds weird.”
“True, but what can I say? I’m lucky. My sister-in-law is also my best friend.”
A month later
“I don’t like her,” my mother says, referring to Eiza, the first wife of the former Sheikh Kamran and Naim’s mother.
“Neither do I, but what am I supposed to do? Tell her to stay away? It’s awkward. I mean, the woman barely looked at me before, and ever since her daughter got pregnant, both of them have been acting like we’re best friends.”
Eiza’s youngest daughter, Nalini, around forty-five, is finally expecting a boy after giving birth to five girls.
“I don’t trust sudden friendships. Eiza was never kind to me. She was one of those who loved reminding me I was an ‘unfit wife’ for being American.”
“She never spoke to me all the years I came to the palace as Jazmina’s friend, and even after I married Kaled, she barely greeted me on our wedding day. Do you think that’s because she didn’t like you?”
“Maybe . . . Who knows? She was . . . uh . . . close to your father.”
“Close to my father? That’s odd.”
My father isn’t close to anyone. The few people he tolerates are all men. And it’s hardly appropriate for him to have been “close” to the sheikh’s wife.
“Very odd,” I repeat.
We’re in the palace garden, watching Eiza scolding a maid. She’s a beautiful woman despite her age, but her constant bitterness and arrogance erase any trace of charm.
I’ve never liked her, and lately her attempts to befriend me have only grown more unsettling. It feels unnatural, like she’s performing a role.
“Yes, I even thought that . . .”
“Thought what, Mother?”
She glances around to make sure no one can hear. “This isn’t common here, since the punishment is severe, I know, but I once suspected they were having an affair.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
Adultery is a serious matter in Rheadur. The laws aren’t as extreme as in some countries, where infidelity can be punished by death, but the penalty is still harsh: the woman is cast out with nothing but the clothes on her back. Not even her jewelry, unlike in a regular divorce.
Sadly, that punishment applies only to women, something Kaled plans to change by introducing equal penalties regardless of gender.
“Mother, are you sure about this?”
“I can’t be sure, but when I was married to your father, I caught them whispering together more than once. I thought maybe her hostility toward me was out of jealousy.”
“That’s serious. She’s the first wife of my father-in-law. To dishonor her husband with his own advisor—with anyone—would be shameful, but those two? They’re both part of Kamran’s inner circle.”
“My point, daughter, is that I want you to be careful with her. I trust Eiza as little as I trust your father—both are sly and cruel. Her sudden friendliness now that you’re pregnant gives me chills.”
Instinctively, I rest my hands over my belly. “She wouldn’t dare hurt me. I’m carrying the sheikh’s child.”
“Not while I’m here. I’d kill her first. No one’s going to harm you. But after the baby’s born, I worry you’ll be more vulnerable.”
Mother told me yesterday that she plans to spend some time in Germany with Konrad after the baby arrives.
She can’t date him here in Rheadur, and since they’ve grown closer, she wants to get to know him better before making anything official.
Where she was born, people don’t marry without living together first.
“Mother, I’m sure that once our son is born, Kaled will build a small army to protect him.”
“And you?”
“Me too. Go in peace. You deserve to be happy more than anyone here.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that I’m leaving basically to . . . uh . . . date a man?”
“I don’t judge you, Mom. It’s not something I’d do, but we were raised differently. Everyone copes their own way. I just know I could never be with another man if I ever lost Kaled. He’s the only one for me.”
She squeezes my hand.
“Did you feel that way about my father?”
“No. I loved him, of course, or I wouldn’t have married him, but he wasn’t my world the way Kaled is yours.
Your father was a passion. I’ve thought about it a lot.
I think I was enchanted by someone exotic, possessive, so different from my culture.
But over time, the magic faded. Once the novelty of sex wore off, the fights began.
Less than six months after the wedding.”
“Did he ever hit you?”
“Not me. But I know he did it to the others. Maybe that’s another reason they hated me.”
“Is that why he sent you away? Because you didn’t get along with the other wives?”
“I think it was just the excuse he needed. He was already losing interest in me because there was no real love left.”
“I don’t think any love can survive betrayal. If your suspicion is right, and Father had an affair with Eiza—”
“Had? I don’t think it ever ended. I noticed the way they looked at each other at your wedding. Even if he no longer has access to the palace, I wouldn’t be surprised if they still find ways to meet.”
“I’m shocked.”
“I know. Betrayal is always hard to swallow. I was so na?ve when I got married. You know what’s worse? Eiza was the first woman I suspected of being involved with your father but not the only one. Maybe the most sordid case, since she was the sheikh’s wife.”
“So you think there were others? But how? You said he was obsessively jealous. He barely let you talk to anyone.”
“Probably because he was the one doing wrong. He assumed I’d do the same.”
I think about what she’s saying, and it makes sense. Kaled is possessive, too, but he doesn’t suffocate me. That means he trusts me.
It reminds me of the clause I insisted on putting in our marriage contract, and I feel my cheeks burn with shame.
“I did something terrible.”
Instead of looking shocked, she smiles. “Impossible, my dear. There’s no room for malice in your heart.”
“When Kaled proposed, I demanded a clause in the contract saying that if he betrayed me within the first three years of marriage, I’d receive a divorce with benefits. I want to remove it, but I don’t know how. I trust him. I don’t believe he’d ever cheat.”
I never told her about the Paris apartment, or anyone else, for that matter, but Jazmina said everyone in Rheadur talked about it for weeks after the wedding, how deeply the sheikh must love his wife to give her so much gold.
“Why did you do that?” she asks.
“I’ve never worked before. I didn’t want to end up like you did. I wanted a place for us to live. I was already determined to find you.”
I don’t tell the full truth, that I thought a man as powerful and handsome as Kaled would inevitably get tired of me.
“Talk to him, my daughter. If your heart tells you to remove that clause, do it. Don’t let my unhappy marriage poison yours.”
Her words are the push I needed. I promise myself that tonight, I’ll talk to him about it.
Hours later
I shift in bed when a tremor, followed by a wave of nausea, hits me hard.
I turn my head just to check if my husband has come to bed yet.
The clock reads ten fifteen. He never comes up before eleven. He’s been working like mad lately, saying he wants everything settled so he can be fully present for the final weeks of my pregnancy.
I sit up, and the room spins. Then a sharp cramp doubles me over.
Cold sweat breaks across my forehead as I fight not to panic.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand and press the number that dials Kaled.
He answers on the second ring.
“Please . . .”
“Adeela?”
“I’m in pain . . . please, I need you.”