“How about this, Sheikha?” Daria held up a floral dress which was nearly transparent. It is very sensuous.” She raised an eyebrow. “Perfect for your honeymoon.”
Soraiya took the dress and was seriously tempted. But replaced it on the hanger. “As you well know, Daria, we have postponed our honeymoon until after the French delegation has visited, and the coronation.”
“But, Sheikha, you can have your own honeymoon here, within these walls, can you not?”
She shook her head with a grin. She’d known Daria for years and had been relieved that she’d agreed to come with her, and often took her advice. “I can. But not today. Today, I’ll be leaving the apartment. I wish to look business-like, professional. That’s the image I’m going for this morning.” She plucked a beautiful white silk abaya with embroidered trim and matching hijab from the wardrobe and held it up against her. It was modest, regal, and acceptable. Now she knew Zak a little better, she knew he was no monster. Whatever had made him angry when she’d first talked of helping him with matters of state would be easily overcome. She was sure. She’d start as she meant to go on.
What a difference a couple of days could make! Last time she’d walked through these corridors and gardens, she’d felt nervous — intimidated even. But since she’d been intimate with Zak, everything had changed and she could appreciate the beauty of the ancient palace, so very different from her own. It was such a maze of pathways and buildings that she got lost a few times and had to ask people for directions.
When she eventually entered the offices, she found a clerk who became very flustered when she asked him for the files she wanted. She frowned as she watched him thumb through some papers in an old-fashioned filing cupboard and produce a couple of files, fumbling with confusion. But Soraiya was glad of his confusion because she soon discovered he’d given her not only the itineraries and plans for forthcoming visits but also the budgets and financials associated with them. She only had time to skim their contents when the door burst open and the Prime Vizier, Aabid, swept into the room. His craggy, thin face gave nothing away as he bowed.
“What a pleasure — and a surprise — to see you here, Your Highness.”
“Thank you! As our honeymoon has been postponed until after the coronation, I thought I’d get started right away.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Get started? On what exactly?”
She looked up, alerted by his chillingly polite tone that something was amiss, and frowned. “Familiarizing myself with the country’s affairs.”
It was his turn to frown.
“So I can be of assistance,” she added helpfully, thinking that he may not be aware of the work she’d done in her own country. “I worked on state affairs in my country, especially on diplomatic missions such as the forthcoming French delegation.”
“Yes, I’d heard. An unusual arrangement.”
She cocked her head to one side, now certain that he disapproved. “Not so unusual, I think, for someone of royal blood with an MBA in International Relations.” Stated like that, she almost convinced herself of the ease with which she’d gained her role. But it covered years of studying and working hard to please her father. She might not have received the love she craved, but at least she’d gained his respect.
“Indeed. However”—he tapped his steepled fingers together which unnerved Soraiya—“you may find things a little different here.”
Uneasiness flickered in her gut. “And why is that?”
“The king may have other ideas.”
She gave a small grunt. She knew that. But couldn’t imagine Zak’s “ideas” would hold up against her logic. She was born and educated for this role, and all she had to do was make him see that.
“I’m sure the King won’t mind,” she said with a smile, returning her attention to the paper files in front of her. She’d look into hiring a company of first-rate IT specialists she knew to get the administration up-to-date.
She continued to focus on the papers, aware he hadn’t moved. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the vizier gesture to the clerk. She looked up, but this time didn’t smile, simply raised an imperious eyebrow.
“Was there something else, Aabid?”
“I believe a group of ladies will pay you a visit later this morning. Suitable ladies.”
“And I’ll be very pleased to meet these suitable ladies. But I’ll stay here until then.” He still didn’t move. “Maybe we could meet up later, Aabid? No doubt after I’ve gone over the itinerary for the French delegation, I’ll have some questions for you.”
Reluctantly, he bowed. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
“And please, call me Soraiya.”
He bowed again but, judging by the air of disapproval he exuded as he left the room, she doubted he’d be calling her Soraiya anytime soon.
She was quickly absorbed. After years of working on visitor itineraries, she knew how important the details could be and how much they could affect the outcome of the negotiations. She instantly saw how minor changes could be made, which would have a large impact on the success of the visit. One of her father’s rare compliments was that she had an instinct for such projects.
But her concentration couldn’t withstand the sound of raised voices coming towards her. She assumed some underling was being admonished by their manager until the door burst open and an angry-looking Zak entered the room. The door was closed behind him by the clerk, and Zak stood before her, hands on robed hips, and his brow lowered over eyes that were coal black.
She rose uncertainly. “Zak, I?—”
“Soraiya,” interrupted Zak. “What do you think you’re doing?” He spoke between gritted teeth as if he were determined to contain a fury which she didn’t understand.