8. Keira
CHAPTER 8
KEIRA
K ing Hassan turned out to be a heavyset man in his early sixties. Upon first sight, Keira’s thought was that he looked like the father of anyone else her age. His hair was graying and there were lines on his face. She felt herself begin to relax.
Then he spoke. “Kareem, who have you brought before me?”
It was so formal, and his voice was so tight, that Keira’s muscles froze right back up. She was hard-pressed not to turn and run away.
Only Kareem’s hand in hers kept her where she was. “There’s someone I want you to meet, Father,” he said. “This is Keira Harding. My wife.”
The room was so silent that Keira could hear the echo of her own breathing, which suddenly seemed thunderous. She held her breath, trembling.
“Your wife?” the king repeated, his tone ominous.
“We married in the United States,” Kareem said.
“You just met this woman?”
“Sometimes you know that quickly that someone is right for you,” Kareem said blandly. “With Keira, it was love at first sight, Father.”
“She hasn’t even been vetted. She’s probably trying to take advantage of the crown.”
Keira felt her face flush and her pulse accelerate. Who was he to suggest such a thing?
But could she defend herself to the king? What were the rules here? Was she even allowed to speak without being spoken to first? It wouldn’t help matters at all if she offended him right out of the gate.
“Keira wouldn’t do something like that,” Kareem insisted.
His father snorted. “You hardly know the woman. And she’s an American. What would make an American want to come all the way to Qalmar with a man she hardly knows? There’s got to be something wrong with her.”
“Get to know her,” Kareem said. “You’ll come to see her the way I do, Father. She’s wonderfully clever — and lovely, as you can see.”
Keira took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was excruciating. There was nothing she could do or say to make it go any more smoothly. And yet, if she could just get through this painful encounter, good things lay ahead.
“Very well,” the king said abruptly.
For a moment, Kareem didn’t speak. Keira looked over at him and saw that his jaw had dropped slightly.
“Very well?” he managed.
“If you want me to accept this woman, the two of you will stay for dinner tonight. When the meal is over, I’ll give you my decision.”
King Hassan rose and departed the room abruptly, without another word.
Keira and Kareem watched him go for a moment, neither one of them saying a word. Keira didn’t think she could have spoken if she had wanted to. Her throat was tight, as if she was about to start crying, even though she didn’t think she was. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes to be sure, but they were dry.
“All right,” Kareem said. “All right. This is good.”
“This is good ?”
“He’s giving you a chance to impress him.”
“I thought you said I couldn’t impress him.” Keira’s breath was coming fast and erratic now. “You did say that. You said not to bother trying, that I just needed to get through this meeting so that he would understand who I was. You told me there wasn’t going to be any chance of approval from him. Now we’re staying to dinner because… because we do want his approval? Which we aren’t going to get? What’s happening, Kareem?”
“I thought he would shout at me, ignore you, and send us away,” Kareem said. “The fact that he’s having us stay means that he does want to give you a chance to win his favor.”
He smiled.
Keira couldn’t believe it. He was smiling now? “Can’t we go, like you said we could?” she asked, and now the tears were pressing at the backs of her eyelids. She swallowed hard. “I’m still in my jeans, Kareem. I can’t wear this to a royal dinner.”
“You can. I’m in jeans too,” he pointed out.
“But that’s different. You belong to this family. I’m just an outsider who he thinks is scamming you.”
“He might think that’s happening, but you and I know it isn’t. And by the end of this dinner, he’ll know that too. Don’t worry,” Kareem soothed her. “This will be wonderful. A real Qalmese meal to welcome you to the country. The only thing is…” He hesitated.
“Is what ?”
“You know you and I are going to have to pretend to be in love, don’t you? That’s the only way this will work. That’s how we convince my father that you’re not taking advantage of my position. He has to think you’re so in love with me that we simply had to marry, that you were willing to give up your whole life back in the States and come back here with me without a second thought. He has to respect you, but also think that your love for me was more important than anything else.”
“You’re asking a lot.” Keira’s mouth was dry.
“If this works, if he approves of us, the rest of what we’re trying to do will become much easier,” Kareem said. “He’ll take a step back and we’ll have more freedom to go about our business. I know it’s difficult, but trust me when I tell you that it’s the right choice.”
Keira nodded. She straightened her shirt and did her best to finger-comb her hair into some semblance of order, highly conscious of the fact that she hadn’t had a shower since they’d boarded the plane. This couldn’t possibly be going any worse.
A low chime sounded. It didn’t seem electronic — it was as if someone had actually struck a bell somewhere nearby. Keira looked at Kareem.
“That’s dinner,” he said.
“You get called to dinner by a bell?”
“That’s how we know it’s ready.” He shrugged, as if such things were normal.
“Does that happen at your house too?”
“Would it be a problem if it did?” He smiled. “No. I’ve dispensed with a lot of royal formality at my own home. I dismissed most of the staff a few weeks after I moved into the place.”
“You fired your staff?” Keira frowned. “That seems heartless.”
“No, I made sure they found other positions,” Kareem assured her. “With a recommendation from the royal family, you can work almost anywhere in Qalmar. They’re fine. It was just that I preferred the idea of having my own routine, rather than fitting with the established one — one more thing for my father to be unhappy about. Don’t bring that up at dinner.”
Keira added it to the growing mental list she was keeping of things not to talk to the king about.
The dining room was cavernous, and Keira couldn’t help hugging her arms tightly around her body as they walked in — the air seemed chilly, somehow. She didn’t think it was actually any colder in here, but it was difficult to relax her muscles all the same.
King Hassan sat at the head of the table. To his right was a woman Keira hadn’t seen yet. She had the same thick, dark hair as Kareem, and unlike the king, she wasn’t going gray at all. She had Kareem’s large, dark eyes, too, and the shape of her mouth was just the same. Keira was sure this had to be Kareem’s mother.
“Right here.” Kareem led her to a chair all the way at one end of the table, right next to King Hassan. Keira wished she could have asked to be seated farther away from him. He was staring at her as if waiting for her to do something wrong. As for the queen, she fixed her eyes on Keira, frowned, and said nothing at all.
Show some spine, Keira. You face men who think they know how to push you around every single day. You can handle this.
She faced the king directly. “Your Majesty, it’s so very gracious of you to ask me to stay for dinner,” she said. “I know this must all come as a surprise.”
“Yes, it’s been quite a shock.” He watched her beadily. “This is my wife, Queen Rajiyah. Kareem’s mother.”
“It’s such a privilege to meet you, Your Majesty,” Keira said to the queen.
Queen Rajiyah said nothing, just observed her quietly. Keira trembled.
“You do know that Kareem will not inherit my throne, don’t you?” the king asked her.
“He’s told me that.” Keira laughed. “And what a relief. I don’t know that we’d have been able to marry if he had a responsibility like that. I’m hardly fit to be queen — this is the first time I’ve ever been to Qalmar! I only hope I can prove myself suitable to be the wife of the king’s youngest son.”
“We’ll see.” The king leaned back as the cover was lifted off his plate. “I apologize, this food won’t be anything you’re familiar with.” The smug smile on his face belied his words. “Had I known a westerner was joining us today, I would have arranged for a different meal.”
Keira looked down at her plate.
The dish was one that would surely have made anyone from home flinch. It was meat, but the meat was so very red that Keira doubted it had touched a frying pan. She could smell onion, allspice, and nutmeg, and there were a few sprigs of parsley and mint finely arranged over the top of the plate.
The king was watching her. “I can have the cook whip up some buttered noodles,” he said. “I daresay you would like that better.”
Kareem was watching her too.
He wouldn’t be disappointed, Keira was sure. She could send this plate back. She could take the buttered noodles, which did appeal more and suited her palate better.
She didn’t need to impress the king and queen.
But she smiled instead. And the smile was genuine, because she had been dealt a card she knew how to play.
“Kibbeh nayyeh,” she said.
The two men looked at her. King Hassan’s eyes were wide with disbelief, but Kareem was clearly having trouble holding back a smile.
“You’re familiar with it?” the king asked at length.
“Oh, very. A client I worked with once was Lebanese, and he always insisted on having this dish whenever possible. I’ve tried it before. But I’m sure what we were able to get in America doesn’t compare to what you serve here at the palace,” she added.
“Who was this client? You haven’t said what you do for a living, Ms. Harding. What kind of clients do you have, that you find yourself needing to serve them Lebanese cuisine as a function of your job?”
She glanced at Kareem. “I’m in events planning.” It was the story they had agreed to tell, and now that they were here, Keira was glad they had. It was obvious that King Hassan wouldn’t respond well to hearing that she had ever had anything to do with motorsports. Kareem had made it clear how little his father cared for that sort of thing, so to talk about her family’s involvement with it would make entirely the wrong impression.
She took a bite of the Kibbeh nayyeh, maintaining her smile. It was better than what she’d had of this dish before, though still a bit of a shock — she didn’t think she would ever become someone who ate raw meat regularly.
“Well,” King Hassan said to his son, “your new bride is, at least, more cultured than I feared she would be. You can be grateful for that. Perhaps she won’t have such a terrible time fitting in here in Qalmar as I might have thought.”
And then he smiled at Keira. “You know,” he said, “no one else in this family appreciates good Kibbeh nayyeh. My son would never eat it if I didn’t serve it to him. Perhaps that’s something you and I might have in common.”
The sentiment nearly made Keira drop her fork, so little had she expected it from him.
It wasn’t a big smile on the king’s face, to be sure, nor was it the charming smile that she had come to expect from Kareem. He wasn’t making any attempts to win her over. But his eyes had softened, and Keira no longer felt as if he despised her or resented her for having come into his life in the way she had.
Maybe Kareem was right. Maybe this experience wasn’t going to be as bad as they had feared. Maybe they would even have some fun with it.