Al’Ramiz. It couldn’t be…
Yet, taking in the other woman’s attire, Annalisa realised with a sinking sensation it could very well be. Al’Ramiz was the name of Qusay’s ruling family.
‘How do you do?’ Her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper. She paused, unsure how to proceed. ‘Tahir said he was coming for a coronation.’
Rihana Al’Ramiz nodded, her mouth curving wryly. ‘His brother, Kareef, has just inherited the throne.’
‘But…’ Annalisa shook her head, unable to take it in. Tahir was a member of the royal family! He’d said he was related to the King, but she’d thought he meant a distant connection. She was sharing a seat with the dowager Queen of Qusay! ‘I had no idea…’ she blurted out.
Her skin prickled and tightened and her vision blurred around the edges. Annalisa gripped the seat with shaking fingers as the world pitched and heaved out of focus. This was one shock too many.
‘It’s all right.’ A gentle hand on hers tugged her back to reality. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had some refreshment. Come.’ Her tone grew brisk as the door opened and a servant gestured for Annalisa to get out.
Shakily Annalisa stood, concentrating on staying upright. Her legs were like jelly and her bones felt hollow, as if a breeze might blow her away.
She watched Rihana Al’Ramiz gesture towards the beautiful old palace. Sunlight glinted off semi-precious gems set in decorative patterns around the entrance and servants stood to attention, waiting to usher them inside.
The sense of unreality grew. And with it the worrying suspicion that life was about to get even more complicated.
‘Thank you for your advice, Akmal. The views of the Council are always of interest to me.’ Tahir prowled to the huge window facing the sea and reminded himself for the hundredth time that patience was required.
Patience wasn’t his style.
Ruling a country wasn’t his style!
He couldn’t believe after all these weeks he hadn’t found a way out of this bind. Or that the Qusanis wanted him, the reprobate son of a vicious father, to succeed to the throne. But despite his best efforts he’d yet to uncover a distant relative who could take the royal role off his hands. As far as the Council of Elders was concerned he was King, and they expected him to rule.
He couldn’t begrudge his brothers their decision to give up the throne. He’d do the same himself if he could. But he was trapped till he found a viable alternative.
‘A suitable marriage would be timely, sire,’ his vizier said in a measured tone. ‘After the…turmoil of the last months it would be a perfect way of demonstrating the stability of the royal lineage.’
Tahir’s mouth kicked up at one side. ‘Turmoil’ was Akmal’s diplomatic way of saying the Al’Ramiz brothers had caused enough sensation for several lifetimes.
After his cousin Zafir had discovered he wasn’t the legitimate ruler and stepped aside, Tahir’s eldest brother had inherited. But as both Kareef and then Rafiq had since renounced the throne, the country now lay in Tahir’s hands.
A man who’d been exiled at eighteen. The brother with the wildest reputation. Who hadn’t set foot here for eleven years. He clenched his fists.
Hell! He couldn’t stay as King. He wasn’t into responsibility, or settling in one place long-term.
No wonder they wanted him to marry. They hoped it would make him settled and stable. Tied down.
‘The Princess is—’
‘Thank you, Akmal.’ He spun around to face his advisor. ‘I’m sure she’s a paragon of virtue and would make a perfect queen.’ He clasped his hands behind his back, remembering the old man was only doing his job in pressing for a wedding. ‘However, it’s too soon to consider marriage.’
‘But, sire—’
Akmal broke off as a knock sounded and a servant entered, apologising. He was sorry to intrude, he knew the importance of the King’s private meeting, but he—
‘What is it?’ Tahir was only too grateful for the interruption.
‘The Lady Rihana asks if you would join her for tea, Highness.’
Tahir froze in mid-step.
His mother had invited him to tea?
It was unprecedented. Since he’d been back he’d seen her, of course. She’d expressed relief that he was safe. She’d welcomed him and offered her support. All with a distant courtesy that spoke of good breeding and duty.
Not a trace of maternal love.
He’d shattered that by the time he got kicked out of the country, after being found with his father’s naked mistress.
It didn’t matter that it had been the mistress trying to seduce him. Nor that Tahir had an ingrained distaste for the notion of sharing his father’s women. But he hadn’t protested his innocence. His father’s fury had been worth the price.