‘Always.’ The words vibrated with the depth of his seriousness. ‘The water runs underground to the palace, the heart of our government. We will protect it with our lives.’
A shiver ran down her spine, his passion igniting something inside her.
‘The war went on for a long time. It’s only natural to think like that.’
‘You consider yourself immune from the effects of it?’
She lifted her slender shoulders. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time in New York. In truth, I’ve always felt I straddled two worlds, with one foot in my Taquul heritage and another in my mother’s America. That isn’t to say I feel the connection to my people any less, nor that I don’t see the seriousness of the war, but I see it—at times—with something akin to an outsider’s perspective.’
He reached out and grabbed an overhanging leaf, running his fingertips over it before handing it to Johara. She took it, lifting it her nose and inhaling gratefully. The smell was sweet and intoxicating. ‘With an outsider’s clarity, perhaps,’ he said darkly.
It jolted her gaze to his face. ‘You think I have greater clarity than you in this matter?’
He stopped walking, his expression tight. ‘I think war has become a way of life,’ he said with a nod. ‘Like you said. Those habits will die hard.’
‘It’s ironic,’ she murmured softly, ‘that you remind me of him, in many ways.’
He braced. ‘Who?’
‘My brother.’
His expression was forbidding. ‘I’m not sure I appreciate that.’
‘I didn’t expect you would, but it’s true. I think it’s probably an important thing to remember in war. You were the one who said that—we’re more alike than we are different.’
‘I was speaking generally.’
She shrugged once more. ‘And I’m speaking specifically.’
‘Don’t.’ He shook his head, his eyes locked to hers. ‘Don’t compare me to him.’
‘He’s my brother,’ she reminded him. ‘You can stand here with me, showing me this incredible place—’ she gestured beyond her ‘—but you can’t even speak his name?’
Amir stiffened. ‘Believe me, Johara, I am conscious, every minute we’re together, of who you are and what my being here with you means. You think I don’t feel that I am, right this second, betraying my parents’ memory?’
She sucked in a jagged breath, pain lancing her at the fact he could perceive anything to do with her as a betrayal of his parents. She spun away from him, looking back towards the palace. It was too far to see. She knew it would be there, beyond the enormous trees, glowing like a golden beacon. But it was no beacon, really. Not for her. The pain would be impossible to escape so long as she was here in Ishkana.
Her voice wobbled. ‘I think you’re honouring their memory by striving for peace. I think they’d be proud of you.’
His breath was ragged, filling the air behind her. His hand curved around her wrist, spinning her gently back to face him. ‘Perhaps,’ he agreed. ‘But that doesn’t make this any easier.’
His face showed the burden of his thoughts, the weight of his grief. She looked at him for several seconds and then went to pull her wrist away. He didn’t release her.
‘You are a Qadir,’ he said darkly, as if reminding himself.
She lifted her chin, fixing him with a determined glance. ‘And you are a Haddad. What’s your point?’
‘When my parents died, I could not show how I felt. I was twelve years old—still a child—but, here in Ishkana, old enough to become Sheikh. My life changed in a thousand ways. There was no time to grieve, to mourn, to process the loss of my parents. We were at war.’ His thumb began to pad the flesh of her inner wrist, rhythmically, softly, but almost as though he didn’t realise he was doing it.
‘I used to fall asleep at night with only one thought to comfort me.’
A lump had formed in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. ‘What was that?’
‘That I would hate the Qadirs and what they had done for the rest of my life.’ His eyes seemed to probe hers, his expression tense—his whole body, in fact, radiated with tension.
‘You were twelve.’ The words came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Of course you were angry.’
‘Not angry,’ he corrected. ‘I was calm. Resolute. Determined.’ When he breathed, his chest moved, brushing her.