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“A palace?” Her skin paled.
He closed the dishwasher and dried his hands on a towel. “You know my rank. Where did you suppose I reside?”
“I didn’t think about it,” she mumbled, imaging the wealth that must have been at his disposal. Her eyes drifted guiltily to the ring she wore. It was a piece of jewellery that was probably worth two years’ of her salary, and yet it was nothing to him. Small change.
“My palace is not large.”
“Oh?” She sent him a look of disbelief. “Just a demi-palace then”
He laughed. “Something like that.”
“Where do your parents live?”
“They spend most of their time at the royal residence – where I grew up.”
“The Royal Residence?”
“The seat of the ruling Emir. As Heir to the throne, my parents and I lived in the palace.”
“And this, I presume, is not a demi-palace?”
“No. My Uncle’s home boasts over eleven hundred rooms. It spans half a mile in one direction.”
Her jaw dropped in shock.
“It was begun several hundred years ago. Each Emir has added to it, and it is now both beautiful and grand.” He thought of her proclamation that she loved all things beautiful and heard himself say, “I would like very much to show it to you.”
Her eyes were distant, though they met his without flinching. “Perhaps you can show me pictures.”
“It is not so far to Takisabad.” What was he suggesting? What the hell was he attempted to encourage?
“Your wife – whomever she is to be – would not like that, I think.”
“Probably not.” His smile was grim. “And yet what honour I would put aside, for the chance to see you again. For you to see my people and my palace.”
Her eyes dropped, unable now to meet his.
“Do your parents approve of your marriage scheme?”
“Scheme? You make it sound like a nefarious plot.”
She leant against the bench, without speaking.
“In answer to your question, yes. My choice of bride was discussed with them at length. All three prospects meet with their blessing.”
Cassie swallowed. It helped, somehow, to talk about his impending engagement. “Do they have a preference?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Arja.”
“Oh. I like the idea of Sina.”
“Why?”
“Why do they like Arja best?” She asked instead.
