Zufar moved, his elegant hand flicking in a subtle command that got everyone moving. The young intern approached with the equipment and swiftly set it up.
Niesha barely acknowledged the process, her heart racing now for a completely different reason. The moment they were done, Zufar dismissed everyone save for Dr Basim.
‘How do you recognise it?’ she blurted, unable to keep the question inside.
Dr Basim shook his head. ‘It’s nothing. I don’t wish to alarm you, Your Highness. My apologies.’
She wanted to protest that it wasn’t nothing, not when his reaction had been so strong. But one look at Zufar’s closed expression and she held her tongue. Numbly, she watched Dr Basim prepare to leave.
She wasn’t sure why she jumped up and trailed him as he left the living room. But as they approached the door, she knew she couldn’t let it go. Something was wrong. ‘So, what now?’ she asked, watching the doctor.
Dr Basim paused and turned around. ‘Your Highness?’
‘How long before we know whether my wife is pregnant or not?’ Zufar slid in.
It wasn’t what she had meant to ask, but she held her breath all the same. ‘The blood tests will reveal if there’s a pregnancy within a matter of hours, Your Highness.’
Zufar nodded.
She watched the doctor reach for the doorknob. ‘Wait.’
Beside her Zufar stiffened. ‘Niesha? What is it?’ he enquired softly, even though the set of his jaw showed that he was as puzzled by her reaction as she was herself.
‘I have some questions,’ she addressed Dr Basim. ‘Can you please stay for a few more minutes?’
As the royal doctor, he couldn’t very well refuse, and she was selfishly counting on that.
Acutely aware that Zufar followed closely behind, she returned to the living room. Then before she could lose her courage, she faced the two men. ‘What do you know about me?’ she asked Dr Basim boldly.
The doctor’s eyes widened, and he slid a quick glance at Zufar. But Zufar’s narrow-eyed glance was on her face. It remained there for a long time before he turned to the doctor. ‘Answer my wife’s question.’
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Dr Basim hesitated. ‘Your Highness...’
Niesha shook her head. ‘You have my word that you won’t be in any trouble. I only wish to know what you thought when you saw the mark on my arm. You recognised something about it. Am I right?’
Zufar tensed even harder, then he redirected his gaze to the doctor. ‘Did you?’ he demanded.
Dr Basim’s unease grew.
‘Please... I need to know.’
She stared down at the starfish mark on her arm, which had started to throb and burn as if yearning for its secret to be set free. Something inside her told her to push the doctor. Something unstoppable.
Zufar turned to the older man. ‘Is she right? Do you know something?’
Dr Basim took a deep steadying breath and then slowly nodded. ‘Perhaps I do.’
She lunged forwards before she could stop myself. ‘What?’
‘Before I emigrated to Khalia, I was a citizen of Rumadah.’ He named the small country nestled in the most southerly point between the Middle East and Africa, known to many as a desert paradise, rich in oil. The only other facts she knew about the small kingdom were those she’d read in glossy magazines.
‘Go on,’ she urged with a voice that croaked a little.
‘I had the honour of being the royal physician, right up until...’ He paused, a wave of anguish unfurling over his face.
‘Yes?’ Zufar prodded impatiently.