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‘When I turned around my father was standing there. I told him the stone hadn’t worked. It had fallen.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘He just shrugged and said, “Yes, but you didn’t.” And walked away.’
Abby smiled at the story. ‘It sounds as though you had a great relationship.’
‘When I was a child, certainly.’
‘But not now?’ Even before his expression froze over she was regretting her probing. ‘I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.’
‘Why not? It is no secret.’ He turned away to stare out of the window, his face in profile remote, his voice devoid of expression as he continued. ‘My father was a good man, and at one time a good ruler. He was strong, everyone respected him and the people worshipped him. When I heard the stories of the early days of his rule I wanted to be just like him.’
His bitter, reflective laugh made her wince. ‘What happened?’
‘There was an enormous scandal when he married my mother—she had a past and he had a wife, Khalid’s mother. But he didn’t care; his love for my mother was an obsession, a disease. He put his personal happiness ahead of his duty.’
‘Maybe,’ she began tentatively. ‘He felt he needed the woman he loved beside him to do his job as ruler?’
He whipped around, his mouth twisted into a sneer as he responded to her softly issued suggestion. ‘She left him!’
‘And you,’ she said, her heart aching with compassion for the boy he had been and sad for the man he had become, a man who seemed to have sealed himself off emotionally.
‘I survived but my father did not—he went to pieces, he cared about nothing...his duty, this land...and he would take her back tomorrow if she would come.’
‘Poor man...’ A little shudder ran like a chill down Abby’s spine; it must be terrible to love someone you couldn’t have...to taste a little of paradise and be thrown out.
‘Poor man?’Zain’s nostrils flared in outrage at the suggestion. ‘He is a leader, a ruler, he has responsibilities—the people, the land relied on him and he left them. Oh, he is still here physically, but he might as well not be.’
‘You’re angry with him?’ Her heart ached for the little boy discovering his hero had feet of clay. His determination to stay single and his contempt for marriage certainly made sense in light of the family history he had revealed.
‘I’m ashamed of him.’ The words were wrenched from somewhere deep inside him and he seemed almost as shocked to have said them as she was to hear them. Zain turned abruptly away, obviously regretting that he had confided so much in her...and disturbed that he had.
‘Are you coming? We have a lot of ground to cover,’ he said in a clipped tone as he strode away.
She nodded quickly and ran to catch him up.
* * *
He was right, there was a lot of ground and all of it was the stuff of superlatives. Zain spoke of geometric patterns and symmetry but to her the corridors and courtyards, the ballrooms and paved quadrangles had no logical sequence. It was a beautiful, glittering maze, but Zain was a good guide—he didn’t try and overwhelm her with too much detail but instead told her little snippets, gossipy stories that made his ancestors seem very real people and not just the daunting historical figures in portraits that lined the gallery above the ballroom with its mirrored, domed ceiling of blue glass.
But, as fascinating as the stories he told were, Abby could not stop thinking about the present-day story, the sad, tragic tale of his parents.
‘Now, this,’ he said as they walked along a wide corridor with a vaulted ceiling, ‘is the oldest part of the Palace complex. You won’t come this way unless you’re going to the stables.’
Abby had fallen a little behind and stopped. ‘Do you think they will ever get back together?’
Zain inhaled, his nostrils flaring as he turned around to face her.
She stood her ground while his gaze swept across her face. ‘Your parents?’ she pushed out nervously.
‘You like a happy ending?’ he sneered.
She gave a little shrug, wishing she had kept her mouth shut. ‘Doesn’t everyone? Don’t you think you would be happier if you could forgive your father? He couldn’t help falling in love.’
His jaw clenched before he responded. ‘While I am grateful for your unsolicited wifely concern for my welfare,’ he told her with blighting insincerity, ‘it is not required. You are my wife on paper only, so please don’t get carried away by the job description.’
She breathed through the utterly irrational hurt that quivered through her body. ‘I’ll do my level best,’ she promised before miming a zipping motion across her lips.
