CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      ‘You need to come home,’ was his answer when she told him her fears, and she knew that he was right—knew that Alzan was where she wanted to be.

      They did not stay long in London. Just long enough to sort out her things and for Amy to try and convince her mum, who would fly to Alzan for the wedding, that she knew what she was doing, that it would all be okay.

      And how could they not be okay? she asked herself. For it felt so right to have Emir by her side.

      The journey home was a blur—the luxurious plane a mere mode of transport that allowed her to follow her heart. Even the people cheering the arrival of their King and soon to be new Sheikha Queen did not really register. But for all it was a blur, for all her mind was too busy to take in every detail, Amy would never forget her return to the palace.

      He held her hand as they walked through the foyer where he had not kissed her goodbye, as they walked up the stairs—together this time—and then to the nursery. Emir let go of her hand, stepped in first, and she walked in quietly behind and smiled at the delighted reaction when the twins saw him. They were playing with their dolls’ house, making everything right in a world where they could, but their beloved toy was instantly forgotten. Their father was back and that was all the girls needed to know—and then they saw her.

      ‘Ummi!’ It was Nakia who squealed it first and Clemira frowned, glanced at her sister and chastised her, for she had learnt that word was bad.

      And then Clemira looked over to where her little sister was pointing and when she saw who was there she forgot to be the leader; she just burst into tears and took first steps towards Amy.

      ‘It’s okay.’ Amy realised how much she had been hurting because her pain was gone the second she picked up Clemira. Poor Nakia stood too, but her legs didn’t know how to walk yet, so she burst out crying too, and cried some more when Amy picked her up. Overwhelmed, the twins cried till they were smiling, kissing her face because Amy was crying too. She looked to Emir and it was the closest to tears she had ever seen him.

      He had lost so much—his parents, his wife and almost Amy. That he could trust in love again was a feat in itself, and his decision was the right one, Amy told herself as she held his new family.

      How could this be wrong?

      Yet Amy awoke on the morning of her wedding with dread in her heart. She understood why Emir had been unable to make his decision when love was around, for when he was close, when he was near, it felt so right that they marry, that love was the solution. But Emir had spent the eve of his wedding in the desert, and without him it was far more than pre-wedding jitters Amy was struggling with. This morning she didn’t even have the twins to keep her busy, for they were being readied for the wedding by the new nanny.

      She felt as if she were cheating the people.

      The maid came in and opened the window and the room was filled with humid desert air. Amy felt as if it was smothering her as she tried to swallow the ripe fruit that had been picked at dawn in the desert and prepared and served to her.

      As was the tradition for the future Queen of Alzan.

      The maids watched as she drank fertility potions from huge goblets and with every mouthful Amy felt sicker. Each taste of bridal tradition choked her and reminded her of the cheat and liar she was.

      She bathed and had her make-up and hair done. Her eyes were lined with kohl and her cheeks and lips rouged. But she could see the pallor in her face and the guilt in her eyes as blossom was pinned into her hair—‘For innocence,’ the maiden explained. Amy closed her eyes on another lie as she remembered the love they had already made.

      A dress of pale gold slithered over her head and she thought of her mother who, though there for the wedding, was stressed. She had done all she could to dissuade Amy. As late as last night she had warned her daughter of the mistake she was making, had offered to take her home; she had told Amy that she was taking on too much, that though the country was cheering at the union now it would soon turn against her, and maybe in time her husband would too.

      ‘No.’ Amy was adamant. ‘He loves me.’

      Yet she felt guilty accepting that love. What should be the happiest day of her life was blighted by the knowledge that she could never be the Queen the people really wanted.

      And now the final touches. She could hear the excitement and anticipation building in the streets outside, for the wedding was to take place in the gardens and the people had gathered around the palace.

      ‘The people are happy,’ the maiden said as a loud cheer went up.

      ‘It is King Rakhal and Queen Natasha, arriving,’ a younger maiden informed the busy room, watching the proceedings from the window. ‘They have the young Prince with them.’ She looked to Amy and smiled. ‘They won’t be able to gloat over us for much longer.’

      And now the maiden tied a necklace around her throat which had a small vial at the end of it. Amy knew even before the maiden told her that it was for fertility, for Clemira and Nakia had received a similar necklace in the desert. Emir’s response then had been brusque, but the maiden was more effusive as she arranged it around Amy’s throat.

      ‘It is to ensure that the sands remain as Alzan.’ She placed it over the scar on Amy’s throat and Amy could feel her rapid pulse beating there against the vial, could hear the cheers from the people of Alzan building outside, she could feel the sweat removing her carefully applied make-up as the humid desert air made it impossible to breathe.

      ‘Amy?’

      She heard the concern in the young maiden’s voice, and the shocked gasps from the others as they saw how much she was struggling.

      ‘I can’t do this,’ was all Amy remembered saying as she slid to the ground.