A Touch of Notoriety - By Carole Mortimer Page 0,66

the nursery were always brief, and when there he spoke just a few words in Arabic to his daughters before leaving. Standing there, hearing him speak again, Amy realised with a nervous jolt how much she had missed hearing his voice.

She remembered those precious days after the twins had been born and how approachable he’d been then. Emir had been a harried king, if there was such a thing, and like any new father to twins—especially with a sick wife. He had been grateful for any suggestion she’d made to help with the tiny babies—so much so that Amy had often forgotten that he was King and they had been on first-name terms. It was hard to imagine that he had ever been so approachable now, but she held on to that image as she lifted her head and faced him, determined to reach the father he was rather than the King.

‘Clemira and Nakia are fine,’ Amy started. ‘Well, physically they are fine...’ She watched as his haughty face moved to a frown. ‘I wanted to speak to you about their progress, and also about the tradition that they—’

‘Tomorrow we fly out to the desert,’ Emir interrupted. ‘We will be there for twenty-four hours. I am sure there will be ample time then to discuss their progress.’

‘But I want to speak about this well away from the twins. It might upset them to hear what I have to say.’

‘They are turning one,’ Emir stated. ‘It’s hardly as if they can understand what we are discussing.’

‘They might be able to...’

Amy felt as if she were choking—could feel the scar beneath the silk around her neck inflame. For she knew how it felt to lie silent, knew how it felt to hear and not be able to respond. She knew exactly what it was like to have your life discussed around you and not be able to partake in the conversation. She simply would not let this happen to the twins. Even if there was only a slight chance that they might understand what was being said, Amy would not take that risk. Anyway, she was here for more than simply to discuss their progress.

‘Fatima told me that the twins are to spend the night with the Bedouins...’

He nodded.

‘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