‘I don’t think that is such a good idea,’ Amy went on. ‘They are very clingy at the moment. They get upset if I even leave the room.’
‘Which is the whole point of the separation.’ Emir was unmoved. ‘All royals must spend time each year with the desert people.’
‘But they are so young!’
‘It is the way things have long been done. It is a rule in both Alzan and Alzirz and it is not open for discussion.’
It hurt, but she had no choice but to accept that, Amy realised, for this was a land where rules and traditions were strictly followed. All she could do was make the separation as easy as possible on the twins.
‘There are other things I need to speak with you about.’ Amy glanced around the room—although she was unsure how many of the guards and aides spoke English, she knew that Patel did. ‘It might be better if we speak in private?’ Amy suggested.
‘Private?’ Emir questioned. His irritation made it clear that there was nothing Amy could possibly say that might merit clearing the room. ‘There is no need for that. Just say what you came to.’
‘But...’
‘Just say it!’
He did not shout, but there was anger and impatience in his voice, and Emir’s eyes held a challenge. Quite simply, Amy did not recognise him—or rather she did not recognise him as the man she had known a year ago. Oh, he had been a fierce king then, and a stern ruler, but he had also been a man sensitive to his sick wife’s needs, a man who had put duty and protocol aside to look after his ailing wife and their new babies. But today there was no mistaking it. Amy was speaking not with the husband and father she had first met, but to the King of Alzan.
‘The children so rarely see you,’ Amy attempted, in front of this most critical audience. ‘They miss seeing you.’
‘They have told you this, have they?’ His beautiful mouth was sullied as it moved to a smirk. ‘I was not aware that they had such an advanced vocabulary.’
A small murmur of laughter came from Patel before he stepped forward. ‘The King does not need to hear this,’ Patel said. Aware that this was her only chance to speak with him before they set off tomorrow, Amy pushed on.
‘Perhaps not, but the children do need their father. They need—’
‘There is nothing to discuss.’ It was Emir who terminated the conversation. Barely a minute into their meeting he ended it with a flick of his hand and Amy was dismissed. The guards opened the door and Patel indicated that she should leave. But instead of following the silent order to bow her head meekly and depart, Amy stood her ground.
‘On the contrary—there’s an awful lot that we need to discuss!’
She heard the shocked gasp from the aides, felt the rise in tension from everyone present in the room, for no one in this land would dare argue with the King—and certainly not a mere nanny.
‘I apologise, Your Highness.’ Patel came over to where Amy stood and addressed the King in a reverential voice. That voice was only for the King—when he spoke to Amy Patel was stern, suggesting in no uncertain terms that she leave the room this very moment.
‘I need to be heard!’
‘The King has finished speaking with you,’ Patel warned her.
‘Well, I haven’t finished speaking with him!’ Amy’s voice rose, and as it did so, it wavered—but only slightly. Her blue eyes blinked, perhaps a little rapidly, but she met the King’s black stare as she dared to confront him. Yes, she was nervous—terrified, in fact—but she had come this far and she simply could not stay quiet for a moment longer.
‘Your Highness, I really do need to speak with you about your daughters before we go to the desert. As you know, I have been requesting an audience with you for days now. On my contract it states that I will meet regularly with the parents of the twins to discuss any concerns.’
It appalled her that she even had to request an appointment with him for such a thing, and that when he finally deigned to see her he could so rapidly dismiss her. He didn’t even have the courtesy to hear her out, to find out what she had to say about his children. Amy was incensed.
‘When I accepted the role of Royal Nanny it was on the understanding that I was to
assist in the raising of the twins and that when they turned four...’ Her voice trailed off as once again Emir ignored her. He had turned to Patel and was speaking in Arabic. Amy stood quietly fuming as a file—presumably her file—was placed in front of Emir and he took a moment to read through it.
‘You signed a four-year contract,’ Emir stated. ‘You will be here till the twins leave for London to pursue their education and then we will readdress the terms, that is what was agreed.’
‘So am I expected to wait another three years before we discuss the children?’ Amy forgot then that he was a king—forgot her surrounds entirely. She was so angry with him that she was at her caustic best. ‘I’m expected to wait another three years before we address any issues? If you want to talk about the contract, then fine—we will! The fact is the contract we both signed isn’t being adhered to from your end!’ Amy flared. ‘You can’t just pick and choose which clauses you keep to.’
‘Enough!’
It was Patel who responded. He would not let his King be bothered with such trivialities. He summoned the guard to drag her out if required, but as the guard unceremoniously took her arm to escort her out, Amy stood firm. The veil covering her hair slithered from its position as she tried to shake the guard off.
It was Emir who halted this rather undignified exit. He did not need a guard to deal with this woman and he put up his hand to stop him, said something that was presumably an instruction to release her, because suddenly the guard let go his grip on her arm.