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Callista frowned. “The woman wanted to buy the toy, but the man is trying to raise the price. Oh, she’s from Aswara.”
Remembering what Jarah said about Aswara, Aubrey stepped forward. She wasn’t about to let someone suffer just because they weren’t born in Rihamel. Looking the man right in the eye, she produced the card Jarah had given her and nodded her head to the tiger.
The area around them fell quiet, and the man looked at the guards nervously.
“This isn’t about them. I’d like to buy this toy,” Aubrey said. Callista smiled and quickly translated.
After a moment of hesitation, the man nodded and took the card. When he handed her the tiger, Aubrey passed it on to the young woman, who immediately gave it to her son.
“Thank you. Please let me pay you,” the woman said in halted English.
“No need. Take the money and buy him another toy today,” Aubrey said. When the woman looked puzzled, Callista translated again. The woman smiled with joy, and they moved on.
“We routinely have new residents from other kingdoms, but Aswarans are often snubbed for no reason other than the older generation struggle to let go of the past,” Callista said angrily as they walked away. “I hope, in time, that the bias will die out, but in the meantime, it’s good for us to stick up for them. Good for them to see the royal family is inclusive.”
“You sound like your sister. Asha is a voice for immigrants,” Gwen explained to Aubrey.
Aubrey glanced over her shoulder one more time. Everyone was still staring at her. “I wonder if Jarah thought through what he’s done, marrying me,” she murmured.
“Jarah?” Callista snorted. “He doesn’t do anything without a reason.”
* * *
“You want us both to go to Hal Rabat?” Mikal asked in surprise. Jarah, his brother, and his father were sitting in his father’s study as they looked over the agenda for next month. Between the museum opening and a new shopping complex, Mikal was laden with work.
And now Cyril wanted him to go on the trip to Hal Rabat. Mikal rarely traveled out of the country unless it was for business. Never for politics.
“I would just like another pair of eyes,” his father said vaguely before he smiled. Jarah stiffened. His eyes were perfectly good. “And Jarah, the invitation is extended to Aubrey as well, but perhaps she should stay home.”
“Nonsense. Her first meeting with Silaah to help her learn some of our traditions is coming up soon. She will be ready in time for the gala.” Jarah couldn’t help but sneak a look at his brother. Was his father questioning whether Jarah was capable of handling a gala in Hal Rabat? The sheikh there could be difficult, but he’d been a dozen times in the last five years. Why was his father acting strangely now?
“Silaah will be in charge while we’re gone. He has enough to do as he prepares.”
“Silaah’s wife, then. Surely Bibi can handle it. Mother thinks it’ll be good for Aubrey to be seen with me, and I agree. The kingdom wants to know that she’s capable of representing us, so let’s show them that she is.”
His father was quiet, obviously deep in thought as he stared out the window, and he looked troubled. Finally, he nodded. “Very well. She will come. Mikal, you will come too. Rearrange whatever you need.”
His word was final. Jarah and Mikal exchanged uneasy looks. Normally, Cyril was very transparent about what he wanted, but for whatever reason, the trip to Hal Rabat bothered him, and he didn’t want to say why.
They moved on, and Jarah knew that he’d be taking work back to the suite with him. Ever since Aubrey’s late night morning sickness, he’d been aching to get back to her, to consummate the marriage. He needed to remind her just how good they could be together.
He wanted to be inside her again.
Unfortunately, by the time he returned to the suite, it was well past midnight. Aubrey was in his bed, but she was asleep, snoring loudly. There would be no waking her up.
But, he thought to himself, at least she was there.
That was some improvement.
