“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.