The sheikh moved to the side of the chapel to have a better look at the princess' profile, and this time he saw that her eyes were closed while her heart-shaped lips were moving in murmured tandem to the wooden rosary beads running between her fingers.
Unquestionably lovely, Altair noted dispassionately, and if circumstances had been different, Altair was certain the Emir Sheikh would have been pleased to make this girl his wife. But such was how fate often operated, with Khalil unexpectedly falling in love with his American queen, and the princess' destiny now in Altair's hands.
Time glided past, and Altair wondered if the princess could indeed be as comfortable as she appeared. While Altair's sire was a renowned hero, all signs pointed to her father likely being exposed as a traitor. But if this were so, why then did Altair always have a hard time finding the right words to say when praying...while the princess appeared perfectly at ease in God's presence?
The sheikh thought back to the first time they met. Her father, Sheikh Mahmud, had been presenting her to the king with much fanfare, and he remembered how looking at her had simply left him...cold. He remembered looking at her and thinking how the princess was very much like a doll with how beautiful her face was...and how vacuous her eyes were.
She had left no lasting impression on him at that time, but now...
Altair's jaw clenched.
She felt different this time, and he couldn't understand why that was.
Nothing about her appearance seemed to have changed, and yet something about her...was different. Even with her so quiet and still, there was just something about her...
Yara was startled to see the sheikh stride out of the chapel...alone.
"Alshaykh?" Sheikh? Yara's voice was stiff. "Why is the princess not with you?"
"Because she's still praying," Altair answered sardonically, "and I thought it better not to disturb her."
Yara still couldn't help feeling a little suspicious. Just that? Really?
The sheikh arched a brow, saying mockingly, "I am not the enemy here, anisdi."
Anisdi meant 'milady' in their language, but even though Yara had a feeling the sheikh was being sarcastic overall—-
"I know you're not the enemy," Yara allowed, "but the princess isn't either."
Altair's gaze became hooded. His own cousin, albeit in not so many words, was personally vouching for the princess' integrity. But while he respected and trusted Yara, he could not make himself forget what he had suffered in the past. The last time he had allowed himself to believe in someone who had every reason to be his enemy, it was his father who had paid the price. There was no way Altair would allow the same thing to happen again.
Chapter Three
The sheikhs convened in another closed-door meeting the next day, and Altair wasted no time in briefing them about his first visit to Alfiraz.
"Yara might not be someone who trusts easily," Rayyan allowed, "but it is also as Altair said. Our cousin vouching for her is simply insufficient proof of the princess' integrity."
"What do you plan to do next?" Tarif asked.
"I'll be heading back to Alfiraz after our meeting," Altair answered curtly. "I'll be sure to speak with the princess this time, see if I can feel her out. I also want our envoy to speak with Sheikh Mahmud. He must be made to believe that because I've fallen in love with his daughter, I do not wish to make her unhappy by having him imprisoned. Instead, we will be settling for a compromise: he may return to Farigha and rule as figurehead. As long as he doesn't breathe a word to anyone else about the arrangement, no one will be the wiser."
Khalil was beginning to see where his brother was going with this. "You want Mahmud to think the princess has you so wrapped around her fingers, he may be able to use his daughter against you?"
"Nem."
While Malik knew better than to convince his older brother to change his mind, he also didn't bother hiding his disquiet about the entire situation. "Are you truly sure this is how you want to proceed?"
"There's nothing else to do," Altair said flatly. Games like this were as old as time, and members of royalty like him and Safiya were destined to play it, whether they wanted to or not.
The sheikh was back in Alfiraz in an hour's time, and his cousin was once again waiting by the front steps to nag his head off about the princess being this and that. Altair had hoped additional time spent away would give him a better perspective on the princess, but he soon came to realize the girl was an even bigger puzzle than he gave her credit for.
With Yara's (grudging) assistance, the sheikh found the princess in the library this time, and he was somewhat disconcerted to realize that his earlier assessment of her had been correct.