We’re both quiet and reflective. He speaks first. “There’s nothing that matters more to me than my country. I have always known my marriage would serve only to further my country’s interests. Love isn’t something I’ve ever indulged the idea of. I don’t have time for it – nor any interest in it.”
I shake my head at that. “How sad.”
“Why? You think it’s not enough that I serve my country with my dying breath?”
“I don’t know why you can’t have both.”
“Because if I married for love I could never have married you, and then the threat of the Hassan family would have continued, for one.”
It’s stupid to be offended by his meaningless comments, but I am. They’re just so blunt!
I bring the conversation back to safer ground. “So none of these women ever meant anything to you?”
“No. It was sex.”
“Jeez. If we do end up sleeping together, please remind me of your attitude to it, just in case I forget.”
“You won’t.”
I shrug, but I’m not convinced. Everything’s happened so quickly, I’m still trying to get to grips with all the changes, but I know one thing: Zahir and I are two totally different people, especially when it comes to the heart. I’ve never been in love. I mean, I loved Ryan, but in a way that was based on friendship and camaraderie rather than passion. But not having been in love personally doesn’t mean I don’t know it exists.
“My father loved my mother, so much,” I say quietly. “Did you know he was supposed to marry someone else?”
Zahir’s eyes glitter as he nods. “A woman from another powerful family.”
I get the subtext. More about the plot to dethrone him.
“But he met mom and fell head over heels. He proposed two days later; they were married within a month. When she died, I honestly thought I’d lose him too. He was so broken, Zahir. The only way I could bring him back to life again was to talk about her. I talked about her constantly, telling him the story of how they met, of their wedding, the day I was born – all the stories they’d told me when I was small.” My smile is wistful. “It’s a shame you had to marry me instead of being allowed to fall in love.”
“I told you, I have no interest in love.”
“One day, you might regret that.”
“I doubt it. You studied marketing at college?”
The lightning fast conversation change hurts my brain. I take a second to digest it, then nod.
“Why marketing?”
“I knew I’d be able to get a job when I graduated.”
“So pragmatic.”
“We don’t all have the luxury of being born into this kind of wealth,” I say, gesturing around the tent. “I needed to study in a field with good career prospects.”
“What would you have done if you could have studied anything – practical or not?”
“Actually, that would be history.” I’m more than a little jealous of what he described. “I’ve always been drawn to the ancient world. The stories my dad would tell me – myths and legends of Qabadi men and women through the ages, the ancient temples in the south, the caves in the mountain ranges…” I look wistfully towards the door. “But I couldn’t see how that would lead to work and we needed money, so I studied marketing and fast-tracked my course.”
“Why?”
“So I could finish quicker.”
“I meant, why did you need the money?”
“I thought you knew everything about me?” I can’t help the sassy rejoinder.
He leans forward, bringing his face tantalisingly close to mine. “No, Amy. Definitely not.”