“How did you come to be so fond of cats?” she asked.
“My mother enjoyed having them around.” He set Muffin back on the ground. “You are named for my mother. Did you know?”
“Not until you told me. I’d looked up the origin of the name once and saw that it was a derivation of Sara but I didn’t think anything more than that. I figured my mother had simply liked the name.”
Hassan led the way to an alcove. Large windows looked out onto an elaborate garden. Zara had noticed that Bahania was much more lush than she would have expected.
She took the seat next to the king and tried to ignore the small group that had trailed them throughout the tour. Apparently Hassan didn’t go many places alone.
“I was surprised to learn that Fiona had remembered me telling her about my mother.” He touched Zara’s hair. “Surprised and pleased. My mother also would have enjoyed knowing she had not been forgotten.”
Zara didn’t know what to say to that. Fiona had never spoken of Hassan or his mother. The king seemed to read her mind.
“If you only learned about me through her papers, obviously she did not tell you anything.”
“I would ask questions,” Zara said, because it was true and she sensed it was something Hassan would want to hear. “I used to beg her to tell me about my father, but she never said a word. I didn’t know why.”
“Your life would have been very different if she’d told either of us,” Hassan said. “I want to think I would have been willing to let her live her life without me as was her wish, but I’m not sure.”
He stared into the distance. Zara knew he was seeing the past he’d shared with Fiona.
“Tell me about your life as a child,” he said quietly. “Tell me about Fiona.”
Zara shifted slightly on the bench. Even though the king’s entourage stayed out of earshot, she was aware of them lurking. There were a couple of assistants, someone who could only be a bodyguard and Rafe. His was the only presence she didn’t mind.
“Fiona was always beautiful,” Zara began slowly. “Tall, elegant and so graceful. She could make the most ordinary task in the world look like an intricate dance. I wanted to be like her.”
“There is a great likeness,” Hassan said.
She laughed. “You danced with me at the dinner. I’m sure I trod on your toes at least once.” Zara’s smile faded slightly. “I inherited many good qualities from my mother, but grace wasn’t one of them. I had no talent for dancing, although she tried for years. I would attend classes and stumble my way through. Finally she gave in to my pleas and allowed me to spend my afternoons in the library instead of in her studio.”
“Was there—” Hassan’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “Fiona had a way about her. There must have been many men. Before you said there wasn’t anyone special, but she must have had admirers.”
Zara suddenly sensed dangerous territory. Fortunately, she could tell the truth. “From time to time she dated. A relationship might last for a couple of months. But they were never serious. She told me that she had no interest in getting married. I think she’d already given away her heart.”
Hassan shrugged. “I want it to be so. How could I not? Fiona was my one true love. If only she’d agreed to marry me.”
Zara found that thought daunting. If her mother had married the king, then they all would have lived in Bahania. What would that have been like?
She thought of Sabrina’s years growing up, both here and in California. Torn between two worlds. Would Zara have experienced the same fate? And what about Cleo?
“Imagining a different life is difficult,” she admitted. “Fiona was telling you the truth when she said that she couldn’t live in one place for very long. We moved nearly every year. I never knew what she was looking for, but she didn’t find it. Or perhaps there was no goal, and the point was simply to experience different lives.”
“We will never know.” Hassan patted her hand. “I have a matter I wish to discuss with you, my daughter.”
His tone of voice sent warning signals zipping along her spine. Yet she found herself caught up in the words “my daughter.” His daughter? Had she really found her father? Despite the week she’d been in the palace, the concept was still difficult to believe.