The Sultan's Choice

She swayed for a moment because the memory was so potent, and instantly Sadiq was at her side, his frown even more fierce, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine …’ Aghast at her own wayward imagination, Samia pulled free and walked over to a chair, saying much more brightly, ‘I’m fine. I know you’re busy.’

Sadiq had walked back behind his desk and sat down, once more cool and remote, as if that little moment hadn’t ocurred. The stark reality that this would be their everyday lives made her feel slightly panicky. Which got worse when he said, ‘I have ten minutes.’

Samia sat down primly. Sadiq’s office was huge and unahamedly masculine. Dark wood and shelves lined with books. She blurted out. ‘I’d like an office.’

‘You have an office.’

Samia thought of the perfectly nice room which was essentially somewhere for her to use the internet and make phone calls. She shook h

er head. ‘No, I mean I want a proper office—like this. Where I can put my books and work on projects.’

He arched a brow and sat back, but Samia sensed the danger in his indolence. ‘Projects?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. You mentioned your environmental projects before. I’d like to see how I can help. And I want to set up some kind of literacy programme. Al-Omar is like Burquat in the fact that free education was only recently introduced—when you became Sultan. It was the same with my brother. The older generations who missed out have very low literacy. I’d like to set up workshops to encourage people to come back to school.’

Sadiq was looking at her with a funny expression on his face but she decided to forge on. ‘And I want to set up a crèche here in the castle. There is no facility to help female staff to continue working once they’ve had a child, and you employ more women than men.’

Sadiq’s jaw tensed. ‘Anything else?’

Samia shrugged. ‘Lots of things … But I’d like to start with those for now.’

Sadiq felt immediately defensive at having things pointed out to him that he’d already been aware of but hadn’t really looked at yet, due to more pressing concerns. And he was also reacting to the fact that once again Samia was proving she wouldn’t be morphing seamlessly into the role he’d envisaged his wife taking. He’d seen his wife firmly in the background, merely enhancing his role and perhaps attending some social events in his place. He hadn’t really seen his marriage as a working partnership, and his naivety and lack of foresight mocked him now.

Self-recrimination made his voice harsh. ‘The charity circuit is a well-oiled and sophisticated machine in B’harani, and there are plenty of committees of which you will have automatically become chairperson. I think, if you look at the schedule laid out for you, you’ll be kept quite busy.’

Samia had looked at that schedule at the start of the week and her heart had sunk. She’d been spurred into action, doing her own research. She stood up on a wave of hot anger. ‘I don’t want to sit on committees to talk about things and never do them. And, as valuable as the charity circuit is, I want to do something useful—not just be a figurehead while other people do the work. I’m perfectly prepared to put in the hours being seen, but that’s not enough.’

Sadiq stood too, and put his hands on the table, not liking the way he was thinking of Samia’s insecurity around crowds and being seen, and how much it moved him to see the way she seemed so determined not to let it get to her. He felt something harden inside him, and knew he was reacting to the increasingly familiar sense of threat this woman posed.

‘This is not the time nor the place for this discussion, Samia, but there is one thing to consider—what happens when we have children?’

Samia gritted her jaw, dismayed and disappointed to see this hitherto hidden traditional side of Sadiq. ‘If and when we have children I would expect to be able to use the crèche facility which has been set up, and in doing so demonstrate that we’re rulers of the people who do not see themselves as unapproachable. And I would continue doing as much important work as I could—just as you would.’

Samia was articulating what Sadiq himself would have agreed with on any other occasion and with any other person. But here, with her and all the ambiguous feelings she aroused, Sadiq was frigid. ‘Tell me, have you already sought out an area for this crèche?’

Samia was determined not to be intimidated. ‘I have, actually, and there is a perfect spot near to the staff entrance of the castle. It’s got a green area, which could be developed into a playground, and there’s a huge bright room which could be converted from the storeroom it currently is.’

Sadiq instantly knew where she was talking about, and it did have potential. But for some reason he felt compelled to shoot it all down. He was reacting viscerally again, and hated that he was, but couldn’t seem to stop it. He wanted to relegate Samia to some place where he wouldn’t have to deal with her. Much as he had all week. Avoiding any contact by day and then using the nights to let his already shaky control go.

Each morning he’d woken up and hoped for some sense that clarity was returning, or her sensual hold over him was diminished, but if the way his body felt so hot and hard right now was anything to go by he was in for a long wait. ‘I’ve been running this country on my own for well over a decade, Samia. You will fulfil the role of my queen. I don’t need a wife with a busier schedule than my own. I don’t want you starting something off only to grow bored with it, leaving it to overworked staff to finish off.’

Samia was shaking she was so incensed. ‘I wouldn’t do that. You chose me to be your wife and I’m not going to settle for a life of posturing and preening.’ To her utter horror, she felt tears threaten. ‘You know I’m not like that. I told you from the very start and you wouldn’t listen. I can be useful and I intend to be.’

Terrified she’d start crying in front of him, and of the emotion gripping her, Samia turned around and rushed from the room. She walked with tears blurring her vision until she found a quiet spot, and then hid away and tried to stifle the gulping, shuddering breaths. She knew exactly why she was so upset. The realisation had started to hit her outside Sadiq’s office. She had fallen in love with her husband, and all of those iron-clad assertions that she would never be so stupid had just crumbled to dust.

She was upset because she’d gone in there today hoping … for what? she asked herself angrily as she wiped at her stinging cheeks. That he would jump up and tell her how brilliant she was? What amazing ingenuity she had? She’d been naive to think he would just allow her free rein to do what she liked.

He was right. He’d been running the country very successfully, alone, for a long time. He was hardly likely to welcome a couple of bright ideas along with a rush of enthusiasm as something solid to work on. But she was hurt that he didn’t know her well enough by now to know that she wouldn’t be so inconsistent as to start something and not finish it.

Composing herself, Samia left her hiding place and went to find Yasmeena, whom she’d promised to have lunch with that day. She hoped that the surprisingly astute woman wouldn’t notice her turmoil.

Samia reassured herself stoutly that she couldn’t have fallen in love with Sadiq. She was mistaken. She was overemotional, that was all. She nearly stumbled, though, when she thought again of the crèche and had an image of Sadiq bending down to scoop up a dark haired toddler from the sandpit.

For a moment the pain was so intense that Samia thought she might have to make up some excuse and avoid lunch, but exerting all her self-control, she pasted a bright smile on her face and kept going.

A couple of days later Samia was in her office, looking at the schedule of events, and fear was rising within her. Next week was to be the start of her official duties, as the marriage festivities and honeymoon period were formally finished. This was a schedule of daytime events, and was considered part of her queenly duties—alone. She wouldn’t have Sadiq’s solid presence by her side. She could already picture the charity/social scene brigade of women who orchestrated these events and she shuddered. They would assess her in an instant and find her lacking.