Amir’s comment broke Zavian’s train of thought, and he glanced around to see that both Amir and Roshan were watching him with barely concealed amusement.
“You’re right, Amir,” said Roshan, leaning back in his chair and taking a quick sip of his drink, “Zavian is plotting something.” He cocked his head to one side with a considering air. “Plotting something that he’s not quite sure about. Hm. Interesting.” He looked at Amir. “Since when has our friend ever been not quite sure about something?”
“There’s only one thing that he’s unsure of, and that’s about matters of the heart.”
“Ah, yes,” replied Roshan. “Now he really should come to me on that score. I happen to be an expert in matters of the heart.”
Zavian scowled at them both. “I need no help.”
“Of course,” Roshan leaned forward, rubbing his fists against his lips consideringly. “You are an expert. You have such a successful track record.”
“And you have, I suppose. All you have left behind you is a string of broken hearts.”
“But not mine. That, I would suggest, is being successful.”
Zavian shook his head. Roshan was incorrigible, and hell would freeze over before he took any advice from him. In the relationship department, anyway.
He looked around the room with satisfaction. Everything was going according to plan.Hisplan. He caught Gabrielle’s eye as she listened to the foreign ambassador who was keen on promoting cultural and tourist links between their countries, and smiled at her. She smiled back, their eyes caught in an intimate moment, which transcended the room. It calmed any outstanding fears from his earlier conversation.
It was time. He rose, and she sat back, puzzled, as silence fell in the room. As he started to speak, all eyes fell upon him just as he’d planned. This would be the perfect opening to the celebrations, the icing on the cake. It would place his country at the forefront of the world’s media as they gloried in Gharb Havilah’s past, in its prosperous present and its promising future. So much had changed over the past few generations, but he was here now at a point where they could move forward with confidence. After a short, formal speech in which he welcomed guests and spoke of the meaning the celebration had to his country, he moved on to the part of his speech about which none of his advisors had been told. He didn’t meet his vizier’s direct look, but he could feel it as he continued.
“I’d like to end now where I began. The importance of Gharb Havilah’s future is dependent on the people who live here, and a leadership committed to its people and culture… a leader who is committed to family life.” He turned to Gabrielle. “And what better time to thank Dr. Gabrielle Taylor for her commitment to our culture and her work on the celebrations. Gabrielle has made the study of Gharb Havilah’s past her life’s work. She’s been an inspiration to us all, and most particularly to me. She sums up what makes Gharb Havilah great. A love of the people and the country. And it gives me great pleasure to announce our engagement.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Royalty rarely provided the unexpected, but then there was a burst of applause and cheers as various leaders rose and clapped, turning first to the king and then to Gabrielle.
Zavian smiled back, acknowledging the cheers and good wishes. Ever since that moment in the desert, he’d known the match would meet the approval of his people. And it seems he was correct. Even a glance at his vizier reassured him. From initial disbelief, his vizier was nodding slowly and joining in with the general sense of celebration. The formality of the dinner dissolved, and people crowded around. Not least his two friends, Amir and Roshan.
There was only one person he couldn’t see. There were people milling around between them.
Roshan clapped Zavian on the back. “You dark horse!” He grinned widely. “Seems like you know a bit more than you’re letting on.”
But Zavian wasn’t in the mood to talk. He was trying to spot Gabrielle in the crowd.
“Where is she?”
The two other kings looked around. “There’s some commotion moving over there. I think she’s… yes, she’s making her way to the exit.”
They both looked at Zavian, who frowned. This wasn’t his plan—nowhere near his plan.
“Maybe I was premature in my congratulations,” said Roshan. “We’ll cover for you, but I think you’d better go and track down your bride-to-be because it looks like she’s just left the room.”
He didn’t waste any time following Roshan’s advice. He moved swiftly through the crowds, which parted before him, but she must have run after she’d left the room because there was no sign of her.
He hesitated for a moment and considered where she might go to in the heat of the moment. It came to him in a flash. The gardens. He strode down the empty colonnaded walks, past the public areas of the palace, toward the older wing where the old, overgrown garden was. He saw her instantly, her red dress flashing against the dark greens of the palms and plants as she made her way to the privacy of the central fountain.
He followed her and watched for a few moments as she slumped down beside the fountain and put her head in her hands. That made him start forward.
“Gabrielle, tell me, what’s the matter?”
She turned to him with a start, and he was surprised to see not the emotion he’d expected on her face. She was furious.
“What’s the matter?” She took his hand and flung it from her, folding her arms across her chest. He’d never seen her so angry before. “You’ve publicly humiliated me, and you ask me what the matter is?”
Anger sparked in him. “Humiliated? How is asking you to marry me a humiliation?”
“You. Didn’t. Ask. Me!” Each word was spoken with vehemence.
“I hardly thought I needed to. I thought you’d made your feelings clear.” For the first time, a shadow of doubt entered his mind. He couldn’t have got it so wrong, surely?