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‘Good morning, Your Highnesses,’ he greeted, bowing low before turning to Zufar. ‘You are needed urgently, sire.’ He didn’t say more, but whatever lay behind his words was enough to make Zufar’s face tighten.
Without further questioning, he rose from the table. ‘I’m afraid I need to start my day earlier than planned. Finish your breakfast. Your aide will be here in half an hour.’
With that, he swept out with all the regal authority and purpose of a true king.
Niesha deflated the moment she was alone. After a few minutes of toying with the fresh fruit on her plate, she rose and went to the window. Outside the sun was blazing. On the palace grounds, the remaining signs of the wedding were being removed. In a few hours, it would be a thing of the past.
Desolation crept closer, wrapping tighter around her.
She realised that somewhere between last night and this morning, she’d let the tiniest grain of hope take root, fooled herself into thinking that the bargain she’d struck with Zufar would immediately go towards filling the yawning hole she’d felt all these years.
But it still gaped as wide as ever.
A throat cleared behind her and she steeled herself not to stiffen.
‘Your Highness?’
She turned. The woman dressed in a sharp skirt suit was tall, statuesque, with kind brown eyes and an easy, deferential smile. ‘My name is Kadira Hamdi and I’m your new aide.’
Niesha had never seen her before but something about her expression eased the knot inside her. For starters, there was none of the judgement in her eyes that she’d witnessed in Halimah’s.
And even though the woman before her was stunningly beautiful, Niesha sensed no malice in her.
She nodded and returned the smile. ‘I’m Niesha...but of course you know that...’ She trailed off, feeling a little out of sorts. She smothered her unsettled emotions. ‘What’s on my agenda this morning?’ she asked brightly.
Kadira stepped forwards, opened a leather-bound folder and ran her finger down a long list of items. ‘We will do as much or as little as you desire, Your Highness, but I suggest we get your honeymoon wardrobe squared away. With your permission, I’ll have the three stylists I have on standby meet with us now?’
Niesha tried to hide her nervous gulp with a smile. ‘That works for me.’
Kadira’s smile widened, before she reached for the phone tucked into her folder. Her fingers flew over the surface for a few seconds. ‘If you’re ready, Your Highness,’ she said with a graceful dip of her head.
Niesha left the dining room, thinking she was headed back to the women’s quarters. But Kadira turned down a different hallway, one that led past many doors and into Zufar’s private suite.
On entering, Niesha realised it was the one that connected the previous Queen’s rooms to Zufar’s, the one he’d suggested she turn into a dressing room or nursery. She barely had the time to take in the fact that the previously fully furnished room was now empty before Kadira was leading her through a narrow hallway into another room.
This one was just off Zufar’s bedroom and was a dressing room similar to his. Within the space large enough to hold an entire new suite, sumptuous sofas had been set up against one wall, with half of the closet space already filled with designer labels and accessories.
‘Whose clothes are these?’ she asked, a little more sharply than intended.
Kadira looked surprised. ‘They’re yours, Your Highness. His Highness instructed your belongings to be moved here this morning.’
Niesha hid her surprise at how quickly Zufar had acted, took a seat, then focused as Kadira continued, ‘The rest of the space will be filled according to the seasons once the designers have made their presentations.’
‘I understand,’ Niesha murmured.
Moments later, the stylists arrived, trailing assistants pushing endless clothes rails.
For the next two hours she was bombarded with choices and suggestions until her head started to throb.
The sheer scale of opulence was staggering, and Niesha was glad she was sitting down. She knew another woman in her shoes would have jumped for joy at being so totally immersed in wealth and privilege but, in that moment, she would have given all of it away for a crumb of her past, because she knew that even dressing in the most luxurious clothes and jewels wouldn’t dull the persistent ache in her heart.
She was about to ask for a reprieve, or a cup of tea, when a sharply voiced command preceded Zufar’s majestic entrance into the room. Everyone stilled for a second, before executing a curtsey, which he acknowledged with a sweep of his hand.
‘Leave us.’ The command was brusque.
The room emptied in seconds. For a full minute he didn’t speak, just paced in a tight, inflexible line that spoke of his military training.
‘Is...is something wrong?’ she asked, after watching his jaw clench a few times.
