Safiyah surveyed him sombrely, her expression drawn and her eyes dark with shadows.
Reading that look, Karim felt a fist lodge in his ribs and his lungs heaved. ‘What doyouthink about it?’
‘I think you need to see the Council as soon as possible. Lobby key people and sound them out—’
‘I meant what do you think about my birth? About the fact I wasn’t really a prince of Za’daq?’
She’d thought him an aristocrat. In reality he was nothing of the sort. Karim swallowed and pain ground through him. His station in life would have an obvious impact on his wife. Pity he hadn’t thought of that before.
Safiyah’s features drew in on themselves. Her eyes narrowed, her skin tightened across her cheekbones and her generous mouth tucked in at the corners. Her nostrils flared in an expression of disdain.
‘You do it so well, Karim. I have to wonder if it’s a natural talent or whether you have to work at it.’
‘At what?’ Karim drew himself up, ready to fight however he must to hold on to what was his.
‘At insulting me.’
The words smashed against him, making him blink.
‘You didn’t have a high opinion of me all those years ago and it seems nothing has changed.’
Safiyah pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin, and abruptly she seemed to grow in stature. Less crumpled and disillusioned lover and more imperious queen. Despite the fire flashing in her glare, Karim felt relief eddy deep inside him. He preferred her fiery to defeated and hurt.
‘It was a simple question. I have a right to know what you think.’
Her fine eyebrows arched. ‘Do you, indeed? When the only reason I know the truth is because someone else broke the story? Whenyoudidn’t trust me with it!’ She prodded his chest with her hand then quickly withdrew, as if she couldn’t even bear to touch him.
‘I apologise. I thought you already knew.’
Safiyah sighed. ‘What I think doesn’t matter, does it? We’re stuck with each other.’ She lifted her hand to her forehead as if trying to rub away an ache.
‘Safiyah…’ He stepped closer. He had to know.
For years he hadn’t cared what others might think if they knew the truth of his birth. But he cared what Safiyah thought. More than he’d believed possible.
Her hand dropped and her eyes flashed. ‘Yes, it’s a surprise, but I don’t care if your father was a sheikh or a vagrant. What I care about is whether I can trust the man I married. Right now I have my doubts.’
She spun away and gathered up Tarek. Her actions were decisive and distancing. They made Karim feel the way he had as a kid, when he’d tried and failed to please the Sheikh, who had expected nothing short of perfection.
Karim set his jaw. He mightn’t be perfect. He might be as flawed as the next man. But he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to wrench away what was his.
And that included his wife and child.