“My parents are overseas, on a tour of Asia. Father’s role is mostly ceremonial now, leaving much of the day to day running of the government to Amal.”
Again, that blurry cloud hovered on her mind. “Why doesn’t he want to rule?”
Zayn titled his head to her. There were many reasons. He chose the one least likely to remind her of previous conversations with Adina. “He has never liked power. He has never liked making decisions.” Zayn let out a breath of frustration. “My brother is a great man. A kind man. But he is soft-hearted and soft-stepping. Naman has always respected Kings who were made of iron.”
“A gentle King is not bad,” Julia said thoughtfully. “If he is smart and makes well-informed decisions…”
Zayn nodded. “Perhaps. At the end of the d
ay, he simply doesn’t want the job. It is the one thing he has been told from birth he must do, and he has grown up believing it to be an albatross about his neck. He simply wants to travel with Adina, and write his precious poetry.”
“He’s a poet?” She scrunched up her nose in amusement. “You’re so different to one another.”
“You don’t think I’m poetic?” He teased gently, kissing her on the top of her nose.
Julia blushed. “I think you’re a man who could inspire poetry.”
He laughed. “You are flattering me, Sheikha. For what purpose?”
It was Julia’s turn to giggle. “It’s true! When I first saw you, I’m sure a thousand sonnets ran through my mind.”
He slowed his steps and once more turned to look at her. “For me, too.” It was true. He just hoped she would remember how strong their connection had always been when she finally pieced the truth of their marriage back together.
He laced his fingers through hers and lifted her hands out to the side. “You know, I’m suddenly impatient to take you home again.”
Julia’s tongue darted out and moistened her dry lips. Since that first night they’d been together, she had become a keen student in the ways of passion, and her tutor was exquisitely talented. But the certainty that something was amiss was growing stronger.
“That would be a waste of a trip,” she said in what she hoped was a mock-stern voice.
“Indeed.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead and then reluctantly released her. “This way, my wife.”
Together, they emerged from the cavernous corridor that went beneath the palace into a hill-side orchard. Lines and lines of shrub-like trees ran away from the palace, to the desert sands beyond the castle walls. Julia walked towards the closest tree and inspected the strange, bobbled fruits that were weighing the branches down with their abundance.
“What are they?”
“Quince. A true national icon. And further down, pomegranate.” He leaned forward and plucked a quince from the tree and handed it to her. Its flesh was warm from the beating morning sun, and it felt lovely in her hands.
“What does it taste like?” She lifted it to her nose to smell it, but there was no fragrance.
“Don’t eat it,” he warned quickly. “They’re terribly astringent raw. But cooked slowly, they are very good. I will have our chef prepare some for you.”
Slowly, they meandered down one of the rows of trees. “When Amal and I were young, we used to spend hours out here, hiding from our governess.”
“You had a governess?” She pulled a face. “Sorry, I guess I already know that.”
“You’re frustrated,” he guessed accurately.
She nodded. “I hate that I feel like I hardly know you, when I must know you intimately. I find I don’t remember even the simplest details about you, and it’s infuriating. I mean, I know you, and instinctively, I do remember. But there are so many blanks. I feel like I’m running blind.”
“You have me to be your eyes,” he said, pulling her back into the crook of his arm, where she would always belong.
Julia couldn’t tell him that that was exactly what she was afraid of. What if her gut was right, and there was something vitally important about this man that she couldn’t remember? Something he had done that she didn’t approve of?
She groaned in annoyance. Patience had never been her forte, and she struggled now to simply ‘wait’ for the information to come back to her. Julia needed a proactive plan to jog her memory, and one was beginning to form. She let her mind tick over what she could do to uncover the truth for herself and tried to act completely natural.
“Your governess. Tell me stuff. Pretend I don’t already know.”
It was not difficult. After all, there was so much they hadn’t yet learned about one another. “It was only when we were young, and then in between school terms. Our father was adamant that we would both learn about governance.”