He thought of her that very morning, when she’d woken and been so sweet and relaxed. It had only lasted for a brief moment, before the anxiety of her new position had broken through, but it had been there. And those moments of happiness were like sunshine yolking over the valley – perfect and serene.
Tamir realised, with a flash of blinding certainty, that he did care about Olivia. That her happiness was something he enjoyed experiencing. And that her sadness and worry were burdens he now carried equally. He had to remove them from her shoulders.
* * *
Fatima had the same jet black eyes as her son, and her daughter Selena. They were set in a face that had been wrinkled by life; a face that was beautiful despite those wrinkles, for it seemed to burst with brightness. And like Tamir, Fatima Al’ani was as astute as they came.
She sat in a gold chair that had a purple velvet cushion, a small figure in an enormous room. With the exception of the security personnel who lined the walls on both sides, they were alone.
Olivia hesitated for a moment on the threshold. She had already met with her staff, and been provided with a mind-blowing rundown of how her days were likely to operate. She’d been given a detailed tour of the palace, and she’d found it fascinating. But it had been too brief! Every room housed different tapestries and pieces of art, many of them unseen by the art world. How she’d wanted to linger, to examine and touch, to explore on her own! Only the certainty that she would one day have that opportunity had allowed her to continue with the tour without showing the extent of her frustrations.
Tamir had been right. His artefacts were stunning. His palace beautiful. And her day had been exhausting and enormous. Though it was nearing dusk, the heat of Talidar showed no signs of abating, and in this formal sitting room, overlooking a rolling green lawn, the heat seemed thick like a wall.
She looked to the ceiling, and saw that the fans were spinning, but all they seemed to be doing was circulating the warmth around the room.
“Innani,” the older woman spoke, her voice resonant and clear.
Innani? Olivia closed her eyes and tried to remember. Come? Welcome? Hello? She shook her head. Her grip on Talidarian had been slight, and it had been many years since she’d needed to use it.
Olivia moved across the room, impressing her mother-in-law with her graceful poise and elegant gait. She had been dressed in a ceremonial robe for her first day as a princess; it was cream, with gold running through it, and it flattered her complexion.
Olivia’s attendants had prepared her for this meeting. She knelt before Fatima, showing her respect, and only lifted her face to meet Fatima’s when the older woman had acknowledged her.
“Sit,” she said with a nod towards a second chair.
Olivia did, smiling nervously. “Do you speak English, ma’am?”
“Little,” the older woman said with a shake of her head.
“Oh dear,” Olivia laughed. “And I hardly speak Talidarian.” She frowned, and switched to French. “Perhaps another language will work?”
To her surprise, Fatima’s face lit up, and she responded in the same ancient language. “Why do you know this language?”
“Many of my clients are French,” Olivia said with a smile of relief. “And in England, it is routinely taught at school.”
“Your accent is excellent,” Fatima complimented.
“As is yours, your highness,” Olivia returned.
Fatima dipped her head forward in acknowledgement. “My mother was French. My father used to say he’d plucked her out of the middle of the Boulevarde st Germain when his cavalcade was driving down it. He saw her and knew that he wanted to marry her.”
“And so he did,” Olivia murmured, thinking of Tamir’s very similar arrogance and certainty.
“And so he did, yes,” Fatima smiled softly. “I understand my son has quite overpowered you with his own determination to turn you into princess of Talidar.”
Olivia’s cheeks flamed pink, and she lowered her green gaze from the Queen’s enquiring stare. She had not thought the subject of their hasty marriage would come up. Not so explicitly. She had no idea how to respond. The very small, very angry part of her wanted to pour scorn on Tamir’s head, and tell his mother just what an arrogant dictator he was. But when she thought of his handsome face, she was quiet. There was something about him that made her pause for far too long. Something about him that communicated a deeper sense of morality than she’d appreciated. Olivia lifted her face.
“We were both surprised by the speed with which everything developed.” It was a polite lie, wasn’t it? Olivia’s heart was pounding her chest. She couldn’t let herself think about Tamir as a true husband. As someone she might one day come to care for. He’d tricked her into this marriage, and he’d bullied her into being his mistress. Okay, she’d signed up for one night. And the sex had been amazing. But how could she actually like someone who had been perfectly complacent about taking her freedom from her?
Fatima’s cackle surprised Olivia. “An excellent answer.” She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I will not pry, daughter. But let me warn you. My son is a good man. An excellent man. Very like his father was. But he was born with the certainty that he would steer his kingdom. He has one great love in life, and it is for this land, and this palace, and the history that it is built upon. Do not expect more of him than he gives – he might care for you, but he will never love anyone as he does his duty.”
Olivia ignored the frisson of tension that sledged down her spine. She had no expectations of love from Tamir. And no desire for his love, she reminded herself fiercely. That was absolutely not what this union was about.
So what was it? She kept her expression neutral, but her mind was a swirling torrent of frustration. Tamir had claimed that he’d been protecting her by marrying her. That he’d saved her and Jack from prosecution in a country that would not give them an ounce of kindness. But how could that be the real reason? Surely, as Sultan, he would have had other ways to make Jack’s stupid attempted theft go away. What else did he gain from this marriage?
“I have upset you.” The older woman asked quietly, leaning forward. “You love him?”