Commanded by the sheikh

He nodded tersely. ‘Come in.’ Khalil took a step forward and Aziz glanced at Malik. ‘You may leave us.’

His aide nodded and closed the doors behind Khalil, leaving the two men alone. Neither of them spoke for a long, taut moment.

Finally Aziz broke the silence. ‘I forgot how still and quiet you can be.’

Khalil arched an eyebrow. ‘You remember me?’

‘I remember meeting you when I was four.’

‘That was weeks before Hashem banished me.’

‘Was it?’ The memories were blurred in Aziz’s mind. ‘I suppose it was.’ Enough reminiscing, he thought with a sudden surge of impatient anger. ‘Why are you here, Khalil? What have you done with Queen Elena?’

‘She is safe.’

‘Where is she?’ Aziz’s voice came out like the crack of a whip. ‘Don’t you realise you could face imprisonment for kidnapping?’

‘Elena won’t press charges.’

Aziz grimaced. ‘Did you terrify her into agreeing to that? What did you threaten—?’

‘Enough, Aziz.’ Khalil held up one hand. ‘I regret my actions now.’

Aziz bared his teeth in a smile. ‘I’m afraid that’s not quite good enough for me.’

‘I wouldn’t expect it to be. We have been enemies a long time.’

‘You still haven’t told me where Elena is.’

‘She is waiting for me in Siyad.’ Khalil paused, his expression still so very composed. ‘We’re married, Aziz.’

Aziz’s breath came out in a rush. ‘You forced her!’

‘It was not forced.’

Aziz didn’t speak for a moment. So Elena had changed sides, abandoned him. Could he really be surprised? He’d abandoned her too, after all. ‘Why did she agree?’ he finally asked, his voice flat and hard. ‘Did she actually believe your claim?’

‘She did, as I did. All my decisions have been based on believing I was the rightful heir to Kadar’s throne.’

‘Even though you have no blood relation to my father.’

‘I thought I did.’

Aziz stared at him, utterly nonplussed. ‘What?’

‘I thought I did,’ Khalil repeated, his voice a low throb. ‘My whole life, I thought Hashem had banished me simply because he preferred your mother. Preferred you.’

Aziz let out a choked laugh of disbelief. Preferred him? Did Khalil really have no idea how absurd a notion that was? ‘And then what happened?’ he asked.

‘I found out two days ago that Hashem wasn’t my father. My mother had an affair with one of the palace guards.’

Aziz stared at Khalil, saw how his jaw bunched and his throat worked. It must have been, he realised, a hard fact to accept. ‘How did you learn of this?’

‘My mother’s sister told me. She kept it from me for many years because she didn’t want to tarnish my mother’s memory. But when she saw that I’d—that I’d found Elena, she thought maybe I’d changed enough to hear it. To accept it.’

‘Found Elena,’ Aziz repeated neutrally. ‘What does that mean, exactly, Khalil?’

‘We love each other.’

He swung away, jammed his hands in the pockets of his trousers. ‘I see.’

‘Elena has made me realise how much more there is to this life than cold, hard ambition. My whole existence was oriented towards reclaiming my birthright. Every decision, every choice—’ Khalil broke off. ‘Aziz, I accept the throne is not mine. It was never mine. I’m renouncing my claim.’

Aziz knew he should feel something: joy; relief; satisfaction something. He felt nothing at all. He turned back, stared at Khalil and felt empty. ‘You really think it’s that simple?’ he finally asked evenly. ‘You renounce your claim and everything becomes easy?’

‘No,’ Khalil answered. ‘Nothing about this is easy.’

‘More than half the country supports you,’ Aziz stated. ‘If we called the referendum right now, you would still win, whether you had a claim or not.’

‘Maybe,’ Khalil allowed. ‘But I’ve been travelling through the desert for six months, rallying support. You haven’t even been in Kadar.’

Although Khalil spoke neutrally, Aziz still felt the accusation, even the contempt. ‘So the Gentleman Playboy has been carousing through Europe?’ he proposed cynically. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘Tell me differently.’

‘Why should I? I don’t owe you anything, not even an explanation.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ Khalil regarded him evenly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment, ‘For kidnapping Elena and making things harder for you.’

‘And I should just accept your apology?’ Aziz answered incredulously.

‘No,’ Khalil answered, ‘You probably shouldn’t. But I don’t know what else to do. I want to make this right, Aziz. You are the rightful Sheikh. I’ve spent months—hell, a lifetime—acting otherwise. But I recognise it now and my hope is that we can work together for the sake of Kadar.’ He paused, his gaze shuttered. ‘But I’ll understand if you feel we can’t.’

Olivia’s words, her soft voice, echoed through him. I care about he affects you. Maybe there is a way to put this conflict to rest, to find peace, not just for Kadar but for you and Khalil.

It felt impossible, yet Olivia believed it could be so. She believed in him, that he might be strong enough to move beyond the past. His throat was thick with emotion as he bit out, ‘My life was hell because of you.’

Khalil blinked, clearly surprised. ‘Your life was hell? I spent three years in the desert being whipped like a dog.’

‘What?’ Aziz gaped at him. ‘You went to America—’

‘Only after my aunt found me. Hashem had me sent to the desert, to my mother’s tribe. The sheikh hated me and he let me know it every day of my life.’

Just as Hashem had done to him. Aziz’s mind spun with his new information. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment, knowing anything he said now would be inadequate. ‘I didn’t know.’

Khalil let out a hard laugh. ‘You thought I was living the high life in America?’

‘You’ve assumed I was living like a spoilt prince.’

‘Hashem chose you,’ Khalil said emphatically. ‘Over me. He chose you, he made you his heir, so—’

‘So what do I have to complain about?’ Aziz filled in. ‘Poor little playboy? Maybe I am.’ He swung away once more, hating that he was raking this all up again. ‘Maybe I am,’ he repeated quietly, and neither of them spoke for another long, tense minute.

Finally Khalil broke the silence. ‘Why was your life hell, Aziz?’

‘My father might have banished you from the palace,’ Aziz said after a moment, ‘But he never banished you from his heart. He loved you, Khalil.’ He turned around, realising how Khalil needed to hear this. To know it. ‘He always loved you. He banished you, I suppose, because he felt he had no choice, but in his mind and heart you were his real son. Not me.’

Khalil’s jaw bunched and he blinked rapidly. ‘He had a funny way of showing it.’

Aziz nodded; his anger was leaving him in a rush, leaving him only sad and weary. ‘Yes, I suppose he did.’

‘You actually expect me to believe Hashem loved me and still threw me to a man like Abdul-Hafiz? Let me be beaten and starved and shamed for three years?’

‘I’m not defending his actions,’ Aziz answered. ‘I don’t know why he did what he did. Maybe anger won out over love. Maybe he didn’t know how to deal with his disappointment. Maybe he was just what he’s always seemed to me—a cruel, petty, sadistic bastard.’

‘Maybe he was,’ Khalil agreed after a moment. ‘But if he really loved me so much,’ he continued in a low voice, ‘He could have accepted me. Found a place for me.’

‘I know. Trust me, I know. Coming to the palace and being made his heir was the worst thing that ever happened to me.’

Khalil shook his head slowly. ‘Whenever I thought of you, I pictured you as a spoilt little prince being fawned over by everyone, given your every heart’s desire.’

Aziz let out a hollow laugh. ‘That was far, far from the truth.’

Khalil nodded again. ‘So we both suffered.’

‘Yes. Hashem has a lot to answer for.’

‘And he’s not here to pay the price. We are.’ They were both silent, but Aziz felt the tension between them had eased a little. He had no idea what kind of relationship, if any, he could have with Khalil, but he knew this man was no longer his enemy.

Olivia had helped him to see that now, he realised. Olivia had changed him, made him want to move on. Made him love.

‘Let me help you,’ Khalil said quietly. ‘Let me help our country. Together we can repair the damage our father caused to Kadar’s very fabric. We can unite the people—’

Aziz eyed him with a weary scepticism coupled with the most fragile hope. ‘How?’

‘By telling the truth. By being united ourselves. You are the rightful Sheikh, Aziz, and I accept that.’

‘Even if you don’t want to.’