“Of course,” said Sajid curiously, reaching out to take my hand for a polite kiss. “How are you, Doctor?”
“I’m well, thank you,” I replied with a stiff smile.
Omar greeted his nieces and sister-in-law with kisses and hugs, complimenting each of them as he did. The girls giggled at him, and I smiled; I loved seeing how wonderful he already was with children. Even Sajid’s wife turned a little pink in the cheeks when Omar complemented how beautiful she looked in her glittering gold and white dress.
“Mother should be here soon,” Sajid said. “And then we can get on with this big news.”
“Yes, it is big,” agreed Omar. He thanked the waiter who had interrupted to serve me the pomegranate juice. I’d been craving it something fierce ever since the second month of my pregnancy—Omar told me it was just the legacy of my son’s Middle-Eastern blood coming forward, craving the fruit his ancestors had loved for centuries. I loved the idea.
It wasn’t long before Mirah arrived, looking as gorgeous as ever with her long black swept up on top of her head. She beamed at her sons as she walked around the table to greet everyone. Though she was used to the sight of me around the palace, there was some surprise on her face as she saw me standing at Omar’s side.
“Apologies for my tardiness,” said Mirah as Omar helped her take her seat. “There was some nonsense business at the palace to attend to; some problems with the caterer for next month’s fundraiser.”
“Don’t worry, Mother, we haven’t been waiting long,” assured Sajid.
“And I hope I haven’t missed the big announcement?” Mirah asked.
“Of course not,” smiled Omar, pouring her a glass of wine. “But let us have some dinner first. There’s no need to rush into official business.”
As she picked at the appetizers already laid out on the table, Mirah seemed to agree. But Sajid only snickered at his older brother in a way that made me angry and want to jump in and defend Omar. I stayed quiet.
“Must this all be so dramatic?” mocked Sajid. “Or is it that you want us to have food in our tummies because you the news you need to share is less than pleasant?”
“Quite the opposite. I only thought it would be more civilized of us to enjoy each other’s company instead of meeting simply to exchange news,” retorted Omar. “We are still a family, are we not?”
For whatever reason, that line made Sajid shut up, and he accepted Omar’s suggestion of waiting until after the meal had been served. The cook had prepared an amazing feast of roasted pheasant spiced with flavorsome peppers, and garnished with an array of roasted veggies and potatoes.
The baby started to kick much more after the meal, but I said nothing to Omar. I knew what he would say. My son is already remembering the spices and flavors of his kingdom.
The family made small talk during dinner, most of which I was left out of simply by virtue of my position. They discussed diplomats I had never heard of and big royal plans that were far above my pay grade. Both Alima, Sajid’s wife, and I were silent during most of the meal. I stole glances at her, and noticed she looked a little bit paler than I remembered. I thought perhaps she must be feeling ill, but had said nothing, not wanting to inconvenience anyone. I didn’t know her very well, so couldn’t be sure—we had only spoken a few times over the last six months, and it was always little more than small talk and pleasantries.
Once dinner had been cleared away and dessert had been served—a chocolate mousse Omar had arranged just for me, knowing how bad my chocolate cravings had gotten—Omar cleared his throat, clearly deciding
it was time to discuss the big news.
“My family, thank you for coming here tonight,” he began. Under the table, he grasped my hand and pulled it into his lap. “I know the last year has been very hard on us. We have carried a great heaviness in our hearts at the loss of father, and at the issues of succession we have to face.”
I expected Sajid to have a snotty retort to this, but he was silent, staring at his brother intently.
“But I have some joyous news that I hope will begin to pull us out of the darkness we have had to endure.” He looked to me with a gentle, loving smile and brought our joined hands up on the table for all to see. “It appears I have finally fallen in love—with the ravishing woman sitting next to me, Dr. Carrie Green.”
Mirah gasped audibly, while Sajid and Alima looked up in shocked surprise, eyes wide. I felt myself shrinking under their gazes, but Omar only squeezed my hand and made me feel brave again. Being by his side was all that mattered, and I held onto that thought alone.
“Is that so?” said Sajid curiously. “Of all the women in all the kingdoms of all the world, you choose your own doctor? What’s come over you, Omar?”
“Love chooses us,” replied Omar. “I cannot control who I love any more than you can, brother. And Carrie is the woman I love.” He grinned at me happily. “And more than that, she is going to be the mother of my child.”
“What?” gasped Mirah, leaning forward in her seat. “What are you saying, my son?”
“I’m saying you are once again going to be the most beautiful grandmother in all of Al-Thakri, because Carrie is pregnant with my child. And we’ve just today had an appointment with the doctors which confirmed that our child is a son. The next heir of Al-Thakri will be born in only a few short months.”
Mirah squealed, overjoyed in a way that I didn’t expect in my wildest dreams. Her big brown eyes filled with tears, and she stood up quickly from her chair to come around the table towards me. I could barely get to my feet fast enough before she was embracing me, throwing her arms tightly around my shoulders.
“This is glorious news!” cried Mirah. “Finally, an heir to continue on the line and put this succession business to rest. I have grown so weary of ruling, and wearier still watching this battle tear my sons apart. And what a beautiful mother my grandson will have!” She pulled away to search my face, smiling so widely that her whole face lit up. “I’m so happy to welcome you to the family, Dr. Green.”
“Please, I think you can call me Carrie at this point,” I replied with a grin.
“Of course—Carrie. You’ve been a trusted part of my son’s entourage and protected his life, and now you will be the ward of my grandson’s life. I’m so thrilled my eldest son has finally found love.” She put her hands on either side of my face as she spoke, and then gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead.
Tears welled in my eyes, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay. I hugged Mirah back and relished in the warmth of a mother’s love—something I had been so far away from since leaving the States to pursue a life of adventure.
“Thank you, Your Highness. I’m so happy to be here.”
“And you had best get used to calling me ‘Mother,’” laughed Mirah. “May I?” She gestured gently towards my just-protruding belly with her hand.
“Yes, of course,” I said. “Your grandson is already full of fire and life. He barely wants to sleep. He would rather run around my belly all day, playing soccer with my organs.”
Mirah laughed uproariously as she put her palm on my belly. Almost immediately, my son responded with a series of kicks, and Mirah squealed in delight. “Omar was exactly the same way,” she said. “He was ready to be born, ready to face the world and all the adventure it had to offer. He hated being cooped up, even in the womb.”
“Well this is certainly his son,” I nodded and laughed. “This kid cannot wait to get out.”
“I’m so happy for you, my dear.” She turned to Omar and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheeks. “And for you, my precious son. You’ve waited so long for happiness to find you. It has been difficult as a mother to watch.”
Omar seemed emotional at hearing her words, and patted her arms, giving her hands a kiss. “I’m very happy, too, Mother. It has been a long time coming. I’m anxious to be the best father I can be to my son.”
“Have you decided on a name yet?”
“Not yet,” I told her. “But we have a short list we’ve been thinking about.”
Across the table, Sajid finally couldn’t take any more. He threw his napkin down on the table and everyone turned to look at his angry, sullen face.
“This is an outrage,” he said firmly. “You think this is cause for happiness, Mother? You think this is what will put the succession issue to rest? That your oldest son, our supposed king, is going to have an heir from a western woman?”
Next to him, Alima gasped and put a gentle hand on his arm, but Sajid ignored it.
Omar’s expression darkened noticeably. “Sajid, must you be so selfish as to interrupt every happy moment this family has? First, you had to pull a tantrum at mother’s birthday gala, and now this? Is it so much to ask that you simply be happy for me, or do you hate me so much that this is an impossible request?”
“I don’t hate you, Omar. But I love Al-Thakri more than you do. I love this country as much, if not more, than father ever did.”
Mirah hissed. “Watch your tongue, my son. How dare you speak ill of your father? This country was his world.”
Sajid continued, “No monarch of this country has ever been born of a foreign woman. It’s unheard of, and an outrage. You should have found yourself a woman of Al-Thakri, or at the very least a woman with some sort of civilized upbringing.”
I flushed red, embarrassed, with no response to give Sajid. I could feel my son becoming upset by his words, and he began to kick and twirl in earnest, making me grasp my belly to try and calm him down.
Omar rose from his chair, somehow looking even taller than he was, his broad shoulders squared and his hands clenched into fists. “Brother, I will not have you insult Carrie. She is a talented, accomplished woman with a beautiful heart and a gentle soul. She has spent her life training to help people as a doctor, and instead of working in a cushy American hospital, she chose to travel the world and help people who were suffering in much more desperate circumstances. She has sacrificed everything in order to make the world a better place. How dare you sit there and insult her when you’ve barely been outside the country’s borders to see how the rest of the world is fairing. You sit in your palace and move your chess pieces trying to ensure more power for yourself, and then dare to look down your nose at someone who has saved lives?”
Sajid seemed to blush, his brother’s words hitting home in some way I hadn’t expected. Omar’s passionate defense of me made my heart swell and my eyes water. The pregnancy hormones only compounded things, and tears began to fall down my cheeks before I could stop them.
“This is enough, Sajid,” said the Queen. “It’s time for you to grow up and accept that things do not always go the way you think they should go. I know you are still raw about your place in the line of succession, but this has been the way of the monarchy for millennia, and you have to accept it or your anger will kill you while you are still young. Is that what you want? To leave your daughters fatherless, your wife without her husband’s embrace while she raises your girls? Is it so important to you to beat your brother? Why not join him—work with him to make this country you claim to love a better place, instead of wasting all your energy bashing your head against a wall?”
Before Sajid could form any sort of response to his mother’s crushing words, Alima suddenly stood up from her chair looking dazed and afraid. Sajid turned from his mother suddenly to ask what she was doing, but he could barely get out a full question; no sooner had she stood up then she began to wobble on her feet, grasping for the back of her chair. It only lasted a few seconds, but we all watched in ho
rror as she fainted before our eyes, slipping to the floor with a loud thunk.