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Unfortunately, even if the Sultan were to arrange a marriage for her, Alba didn’t trust him to find a good husband. Men were cold and, in her experience, heartless. Her father certainly was, though she ought, in justice, to accept that other men might be different.
Concubinage was another possibility. That girl in the harem had told Alba that Prince Ghalib was good to her.
Unfortunately, Alba didn’t think the Sultan would permit his daughters to become concubines. He was too proud.
Alba had done her best to learn about the world outside the palace, and what she’d discovered had made her extremely wary. Men were belligerent. Her father’s borders were never safe, there was always a new conflict to worry about. Men cared about power, they craved money, possessions and land, which was why all the great marriage alliances were made with political aims in mind. If men thought about love at all, it must come very low on their list of priorities.
She almost tripped over a paving stone as the realisation hit her. She had no need to marry to have a baby. If she could get away from her father, she could surely find someone to give her a child.
Why tie herself to a man? She would be content on her own. She had caskets overflowing with jewels. She had the means to bring up a child without a husband. Her baby would want for nothing. Most importantly, her child would know what it was to have a mother’s love. Her child would live free.
Alba’s heart ached as she stared at the top of the tower where her sisters were sleeping. That tower was a gilded cage. And there was no way she was going to waste her life in a cage. If her child was to enjoy true freedom, it must be born well away from Sultan Tariq. She must, must, must get away.
Would her sisters come with her? Alba’s pulse quickened as she thought it through. That would be wonderful, the three of them would set up home together, they would support each other as they had always done. And she could have a child. Her sisters would love it almost as much as her.
Where? Where might they go?
The Kingdom of Castile—her mother’s homeland—seemed as good a place as any. In Spain, Alba could look for her perfect man. A handsome man who would give her a beautiful child and then leave her in peace. An honourable man who would not lord over her in any way. A man who...
A memory stirred in Alba’s mind. She was looking into the grey eyes of one of the Spanish knights her father had almost cut down on the road to Granada. She’d only seen him a handful of times, and always from a distance. The first time had been when he’d limped off the prison galley at the port in Salobreña. Captured in a border skirmish, he’d barely been conscious, because of a leg wound courtesy of her father’s troops.
Alba reached the tower door, puzzled as to why the memory of that knight kept coming back to her.
The second time she’d seen him had been on the road to Granada. She’d been thankful he’d survived the privations of her father’s prison. His green tunic had been somewhat the worse for wear, but he’d been allowed to keep his gold ring—proof of his high status, no doubt.
There’d been something about the way he’d looked at her, and Alba didn’t think it was simply that she was unused to a man’s regard. He’d made no attempt to hide his curiosity. His gaze had been frank. Admiring. The knight had liked what he’d seen, and he’d made no attempt to hide it. Best of all, she’d seen not the slightest trace of the tyrant in him.
He was brave too. Her father had been bearing down on him, scimitar in hand like a vengeful demon, and that knight had stood firm. For a moment, he’d even looked amused. Amused? Sultan Tariq’s fury was never amusing.
Alba could be reading too much into a look. She was, after all, unused to men. She must take care. However, the appreciative glint in those grey eyes gave her hope. That man didn’t look like a bully. He liked women and he liked them to like him back.
If life didn’t improve here, Alba could think of no better place to settle than in her mother’s homeland, preferably with her sisters. All she had to do was to work out how to get there.
