Page 96 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

‘Where did you find this?’

‘In the same trunk as those jewels—which were then planted in my room to put Sahir off me.’ The King glanced sideways. ‘Anyway, I found it in there. It’s a Christmas menu from the Savoy. There are little ticks...the Queen’s writing.’ Violet watched as he traced the handwriting. ‘She kept a lot of things.’

‘I didn’t know.’

And suddenly Violet was brave—perhaps because she was leaving. ‘That’s the Christmas before Sahir was born.’

The King didn’t move, didn’t blink, but she felt the silence in the quiet garden and knew he did not need to read the date on the lavish card. He recalled it exactly.

‘Have you told Sahir?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Not yet?’ he said accusingly. ‘If you are here to blackmail me, don’t bother. The elders would crush you—and anyway, who would care now?’

‘I don’t blackmail people,’ Violet told him, and knew that his threats were not really aimed at her, but born of fear. For if she had guessed correctly then this must be such a secret. ‘And I certainly haven’t told Sahir.’

‘You will,’ he accused.

‘No.’ Violet shook her head. ‘It’s not my secret to share.’ She stood still, thinking of the huge secret she had stumbled upon. ‘He ought to be told, though.’

‘Never.’

‘I thought as much. Would you like to...?’

‘What?’

‘Well, if you haven’t been able to talk about it with anyone...’ She knew that must hurt. ‘I would never say anything,’ Violet blurted out, and was rewarded with a disbelieving laugh.

She had been like that once—as a little girl she had smiled and laughed, but it had been an act. Inside she’d been pinched, refusing to trust a soul. Eventually, while she’d still guarded a lot of her heart, she had learnt to trust certain people—like Grace, Mrs Andrews before she’d got ill, an especially kind social worker, and lately Sahir.

Especially Sahir.

She had trusted her body to him...her heart. But, more, he had taught her to trust another person.

Herself.

That was Sahir’s gift to her, Violet realised. Trust in her own judgement. And that made her brave enough to persist—not with ‘the King’, but with this man who sat alone on the bench.

‘It must be hard not to talk about the times you two shared,’ she suggested gently. ‘I will have to go home and lie to my best friend...pretend I didn’t spend my time here having the most wonderful time.’

‘If she’s your best friend, why can’t you tell her?’

‘Because I don’t want to place her in the position of not telling her husband. And I don’t want things to be awkward in the future.’ Violet took a breath. ‘I am guessing Carter and Sahir will remain friends, and that means we’ll see each other on occasion.’ She could feel tears trickling down the back of her throat, but she swallowed them down. ‘Sahir and I agreed on the night we met to keep things just between us.’

The King remained silent, and Violet didn’t blame him for not trusting her.

‘Your Majesty...’ She nodded her head and was just about to walk off when the King suddenly spoke.

‘We met at a debating competition in London. Our universities were in the final.’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘My father was surprised when I put my hand up to do that.’

Violet smiled.

‘We managed one day alone. She wanted to try a British Christmas dinner.’ He laughed. ‘We thought mince pies would at least have meat in them, but instead they were filled with fruit.’

‘I can’t stand them,’ Violet told him.

She imagined expecting a mince pie to be full of meat, instead of sweet fruit, and it made her laugh.

---