“He wants you to prove yourself.”
She angled her face to his, her eyes a study in wide-eyed bemusement. “To whom?”
Elon frowned. “Your people?”
She tilted her head a little. “Perhaps.”
“Your brother is revered in your country.”
“I’m aware of that.”
He wondered at the sharp edge to her tone. Did she resent the love and affection their people had for Tasim?
Before he could analyse her response further, she turned away from him. It annoyed him considerably more than it should have.
“This peace treaty changed our region.”
She didn’t react at first. Did she understand the difference this coming together of nations had affected? The significance of formalising several amicable trading relationships into a union that benefited the entire area, creating a unified front when dealing with other powerful nations? Did she know what life was like decades ago, with no sharing of information and resources, and rebels who ran wild through the mountain ranges, terrifying the population? Only their two countries remained locked in a state of tension, the wars that had plagued their people for generations proving almost impossible to calm.
“My mother told me stories,” she said softly. “Of what life was like before.” She ran her fingers over the pen absentmindedly.
“Your mother wasn’t from Mosar.”
“No, but she lived there for several years, working at the palace. She loved it, and would tell me all the old myths of the land. I grew up hearing about Danascum and his Fig, and Anwar’s Moonlit Discovery.” A small smile lifted her lips as she recounted the bedtime stories that were as well known to children of Mosar as Hansel and Gretel were to English children. “She told me other stories too.” Her face grew troubled. “A raid on the palace, one night, when she was there. A plane carrying diplomats and envoys that was brought down over the Ashana desert.” She shook her head. “Life before peace was very different.” Finally, she turned to face him. “Ten years of that is worth celebrating.”
It was ridiculous, but he was pleased she understood that. Of course, having not grown up in Mosar, she could only understand it in an academic way, like anyone else from the west who’d learned about this region from textbooks, but at least she understood something of what they’d fought for – of what he was still fighting for. Did her brother not understand as she did?
“Excuse me.”
Elon lifted his gaze as the Emir of Kalahan made to pass them. The Emir dipped his head and Elon did likewise. Ella offered a smile and it completely changed her face, transforming her into the girl he’d seen in the tabloids, the woman the press loved to write story after story about.
“I know Tasim would have been here if he could,” she said, when the Emir had passed into the distance. “But peace isn’t universal, as we both know.” Her eyes slid to his and then she sighed softly. “And within the borders of Mosar we still face some difficulties, too.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Tribal disputes are common. I understand Kilar has been negotiating the terms of a form of sovereignty beneath his command?”
Her eyes flared. “Yes.”
“You don’t approve?”
A hint of pink touched her cheeks. “On the contrary. I think these ancient tribes seek only to continue their free, Bedouin existence, honouring ways that are as ingrained in their DNA as the sand is in our deserts. I very much approve of any scheme that enables them to live their lives as they see fit.”
Again, he was impressed with her knowledge of the political dynamics of the region, and yet he couldn’t praise her for it. Antipathy was too ingrained, and she was a El Silandar. He simply nodded once, his expression unchanging, his face one that many found intimidating for how slow he was to smile.
Out of nowhere, he thought of Laurie, and how easily he’d smiled for her, and dark emotions rushed at him – anger and guilt chief amongst them. Falling in love with his best friend’s fiancé had been just about the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Even now, years later, he couldn’t think of it without wishing…wishing what? That things had been different. Different how, though? Whenever he saw Laurie, he also saw how happy she was – how could he resent her that happiness? And as for Afida, the man was like a brother to him. There was a time when he’d briefly considered acting on his feelings, but a deep sense of honour ran through Elon. He would never betray that – nor his friendship with Afida.
“Although,” she said, contemplatively. He drew his attention back to her face, his eyes scanning the gentle features as he waited for her to finish the thought. “I don’t think real sovereignty is practicable.”
“No?” He’d had similar misgivings when his security council had informed him of Tasim’s negotiations.
“A level of governmental independence, perhaps, but there are some issues which are universal, protections that should apply to all members of a country.”
“Such as?”
“The right to health care and education,” she said, without missing a beat. “And vitally, the right to protection from violence or assault.”
His nod was grave. “There is a risk, otherwise, that you will have two very distinct sets of law operating within the boundaries of a single country.”
“And that’s insupportable.” She toyed with a large emerald ring she wore, spinning it around her finger distractedly. “About three months after I arrived in Mosar, Tasim took me into the desert. He insisted I should spend some time there.” Her lips lifted in a half-smile. “He described it as a birth right – a privilege.” She turned to face him, something mischievous in the depths of her eyes. “I grew up in central London and found it hard to see it as anything other than endless, scorching hot sand.”