Page 10 of Sheikh's Quarantine Triplet Baby Daughters

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said. "Now I just need you to tell it to the media. And my cabinet. And to a full thirty percent of Alraed, according to the most recent polls."

"Just point me at them, and I'll tell them all," Diane said with a laugh. "They've really been running roughshod over you, haven't they?"

"I'm one of the richest and luckiest men in the word, but I will say it doesn't feel much like it right now," he said with a laugh. "And thank you."

"For what?"

"For being just so perfectly yourself. You know when I first saw you in the office a week ago—"

"You know it's been two weeks, right?"

"Oh. Oh that's a thing, isn't it? Well, when I saw you two weeks ago, my first impulse was to think that you haven't changed even a little. You were exactly the same, and I could barely believe it."

"And then?"

"And speaking to you now, I realize that you have changed. You've grown, and you've become even more yourself."

Diane was so quiet for a moment that Samyar thought he had offended her. He wasn't quite sure he could face that again. Even when they were keeping their distance, he wanted her happy, wanted her to feel safe, and this felt as if it might be a step back towards that iciness he had felt after they had made love two weeks ago.

"Thank you," she said finally, looking down at her folded hands.

"Thank you?"

"Yes. You're not the person you were five years ago. I'm not that person I was five years ago either. Sometimes I look back on that time and wonder what I was… anyway. You're right, and I find myself shockingly flattered that you see me so clearly. I think, in some ways, you always have."

"I love looking at you."

The words popped out before Samyar could stop himself. They made Diane laugh a little self-consciously even as she shook her head.

"That's something you would have said five years ago," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe... maybe we don't, okay?"

As much as it stung, Samyar knew exactly what she meant. They couldn't be those people anymore, and it would only be worse for them if they forgot that.

"You're right. Then may I say that regardless of how inconvenient it is for you, I am happy you are here? Not... not for any selfish reason, but the palace is as safe as I can make it. It is far safer here than in your apartment in Paris."

"Right. Do you know that the elevator fell to the basement last year? Broke into a million pieces, no warning at all. We're just lucky there was no one in it when it went."

Samyar shuddered.

"I knew that thing was a death trap," he muttered. "They should have decommissioned it years ago."

"I know, I know. But my groceries were heavy, and yes, I see your point. But it's not just the safety that I'm grateful for. I guess... I feel ready to see you again. My whole trip out here, I didn't think I was. But now I see you again and... and I'm happy."

She shrugged, almost confused by it, but Diane's smile was a balm on Samyar's soul. They had been happy right to the end in Paris, and that was how he remembered her best.

"I'm glad," he said, and he took her hand, humbly kissing her knuckles. She didn't pull away, but instead only watched him with her extraordinary dark eyes.

"Me too."

Samyar was going to say something remarkably unwise, but then his phone chirped. He made a face and picked it up, and when he saw who it was, he groaned.

"An interview," he said, already picking up to go. "The palace publicist has been insisting on all of these interviews, and now he's starting to surprise me with them. I keep telling them that the press conferences are enough, but—"

He was going to go, but Diane reached up to pluck the phone out of his hand.

"You can't go if you didn't see the message," she said practically, a wicked little gleam in her eyes.

"I can't?" Samyar asked, raising an eyebrow.

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