LITMIR.BIZ

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running a country there is only so much you can control.” He managed a contained tone, but his hands fisted the wrought-iron railing in front of him with white-knuckled intensity.

      “Then you cannot blame yourself for what is beyond that control.” She hoped he took the words as the absolution she meant.

      He swallowed, and when he spoke again his tone was a little ragged around the edges. “Cultivating the patience to deal with challenges as they arrive instead of fighting against them is another thing my father taught me was essential.”

      They remained there, together but silent, until the queen informed them that the tea had arrived and the king had requested his son join him to finish their discussion.

      Seeming unable to help himself, Sayed kissed Liyah on the temple before leaving her suite.

      Despite the fact even this small display of affection was not exactly acceptable by Zeena Sahran standards, the queen did not remark on it as she poured Liyah a cup of steaming jasmine tea.

      “Now, about the hijab.”

      “Yes?”

      “Wearing a scarf gives you instant access to an unremarkable assurance for privacy of identity should it become necessary.” Queen Durrah smiled very much like her son. “Besides, there is less chance of you being recognized as a foreigner if you wear one.”

      “And the clothes?”

      “Hiding in plain sight.” The queen smiled. “I believe that is a well-known technique, yes?”

      “Yes.”

      “The presence in the palace of a traditional Zeena Sahran woman would be cause for much less speculation than an obvious American.”

      Liyah didn’t doubt it, having to bite back a smile at how much the queen reminded her of Sayed in that moment. They were both so certain they knew what was right.

      “Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do about your Americanized speech.”

      “I’m perfectly happy to speak in Arabic while staying here at the palace,” Liyah said in a perfect Zeena Sahran dialect.

      The queen’s eyes widened and then she flashed that smile so reminiscent of her son again. “How wonderful. Sayed did not mention your fluency in our language.”

      “I’ve never mentioned it.” Liyah smiled herself as she explained. “My mother spoke only the Arabic dialect of her homeland in our home and expected me to do the same.”

      “Perhaps we’ll wait to apprise Sayed of this,” the queen offered with a surprising glint of mischief in her eye.

      Bewildered by the melecha’s quicksilver mood change, Liyah nodded. “You’re really different than I expected.”

      “Sayed did not get his propensity for impetuous action from a stranger.” Queen Durrah winked. “I’ve decided I like you.”

      Ignoring the claim that could have little weight, Liyah stared at the older woman with an expression she knew revealed disbelief. “You believe your son is impetuous?”

      “Less now than he was as a child, yes, but your presence here is proof he has not eradicated the trait entirely.”

      “You do not sound too upset by that.” Another conundrum for Liyah’s brain.

      “I am not. Sayed is emir and will one day be melech, but he is still my son. His brother’s death changed him so much, it changed all of us.” For a moment grief shimmered in the depths of Queen Durrah’s gaze. “It pleases me to see proof he has not changed completely.”

      “So, you’re not upset about this situation?” Liyah found that hard to believe.

      “What will be, will be.”

      “But surely you don’t want me to be the mother of your grandchild.” Though the older woman had already made it clear she didn’t expect Liyah to be pregnant.

      The queen reached out and patted Liyah’s arm. “As to that, I cannot say. I may instinctively like you, but we have barely just met. One thing I’m certain of, your presence here will shake things up.”

      “And you think that’s a good thing?”

      “Oh, yes. Both my husband and son are still living in the shadow of Umar’s death, though it occurred more than twenty years ago. I will miss my son every day until we are reunited in the afterlife, but it is time my family moved into the future.”

      Liyah understood that sentiment, though it had only been a few months since her mom’s death. If Sayed hadn’t come crashing into her life, Liyah was pretty certain her own life would have slid into marking time as she grieved a circumstance that could never be changed.

      “Don’t you think Tahira’s elopement was enough of a shake-up?” Liyah had the temerity to ask.

      “Certainly that was the catalyst for change. I find it very interesting that my son’s response was to engage in shockingly unprecedented and personally perilous behavior with you.”

      Liyah had no answer to that.

      Queen Durrah’s beautiful face settled into thoughtfulness. “Honestly, I expected Tahira’s betrayal to entrench him even more firmly behind the walls he erected so many years ago. I am very happy to be wrong.”

      * * *

      Liyah paced her suite, having just returned from late-morning tea with Queen Durrah.

      Who, despite her royal status and very definitive views on propriety, had turned out to be both likable and kind. And very much interested in her son’s happiness.

      Liyah had been astonished by the warm reception she’d received from both the king and queen. She threatened their well-ordered existence and Liyah’s presence could do nothing but add to issues caused by Tahira’s defection.

      Yet both the monarchs had treated Liyah with nothing but respect. The king was a little more standoffish, but she didn’t find that surprising. The fact he treated Liyah like a welcome guest to the royal palace did.

      Queen Durrah had gone one step farther and taken pains to spend time each day with Liyah, however. Sayed’s mother seemed intent on developing a friendship with the hotel employee her son had temporarily plucked out of obscurity.

      The melecha had managed to ferret out the details of Liyah’s estrangement from her Amari relatives in the mere two days since her arrival in Zeena Sahra. A very restful person with a smile very similar to her son’s, Queen Durrah had found her way into Liyah’s affections almost as quickly as Sayed had.

      His mother had unequivocally denounced the actions of Liyah’s relatives, remarking that someone needed to speak to them and bring them to awareness of the error of their ways.

      The rather fervid gleam in Queen Durrah’s amber gaze had given Liyah pause, but thankfully no rapprochement with the Amaris had been attempted.

      Not that a queen would bother herself with the personal affairs of someone like Liyah, but for a moment there...well, Liyah had worried.

      A knock sounded on the suite’s door and she quickly pulled up the beautiful hijab that matched the pale green silk dishdasha she wore. The emerald-green embroidery around the hem and over her bodice was the exact shade as the chiffon of the hijab.

      Liyah had never felt so feminine and pretty as she did since coming to Zeena Sahra. Gone were her conservative suits and boring white blouses, replaced by dishdasha gowns and kameez in vibrant colors Liyah never would have chosen for herself.

      But she liked them. A lot.

      She’d always dressed plainly, in clothes that did nothing to accentuate her feminine curves. While the traditional dishdashas and kameez were considered more modest than western clothing, the long dresses and long tunic-style tops with matching pants Liyah had found in her wardrobe were cut to emphasize the fact she was a woman.

      The

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