She bit back a curse. How many times was this guard going to do this? She let the wheel stop and picked up the mess of clay, throwing it onto a shelf alongside four other similar messes. Maha had come to get her at first, but Zayid clearly hadn’t been happy with how long it took her to leave the studio, because for the past few weeks, he’d sent guards. And the guards ruined everything.
“Work on your concentration,” Talif told her as she made her way to the sink and scrubbed her hands. “A potter shouldn’t be so easily startled at her work. Especially at your level.”
She bit her tongue. A potter shouldn’t be so easily interrupted. But that wasn’t Talif’s fault.
“I’ll do better next time,” she told her mentor with a pasted-on smile. “And thank you for telling me that the prince needs to see me,” she said icily to the guard. “I’ll see you at our next meeting, Talif.” There was no point in dawdling. The guard wouldn’t leave until she did. Maybe that was why Zayid had stopped sending Maha to pass along his “requests.” She’d deliver them and then go back to Zayid’s apartments to wait for Laila there.
The guard trailed her on the way back to Zayid’s rooms. “Am I going the right way?” Laila said with a sigh. “Or did he want me to meet him in his office?” She couldn’t stay mad at the baby-faced guard for long. It wasn’t his fault that Zayid constantly needed her when she was busy.
“Your presence has been requested in the dressing room, Your Highness.”
“The dressing room. Good.” Laila swallowed another irritated response. Zayid wouldn’t be waiting for her there. He got ready in his own bedroom suite.
This was only temporary. She wouldn’t be sitting in state events for long. Zayid had told her more than once that her presence was important and that people were charmed by her. Everything goes more smoothly when you’re by my side, he’d said. And Laila didn’t mind the dinners and receptions so much. No, it was only getting interrupted at the potter’s wheel that rankled. And that she would likely miss the lesson she was supposed to be giving a girl at Talif’s pottery center later that day. It really would be nice if Zayid would ask her to come to these events, rather than ordering her there—especially with no notice. She’d have to send word, so the girl wouldn’t think she’d forgotten.
It was a little much that Zayid only saw things in terms of what was politically advantages for Raihan and what wasn’t. Not a lot of room for nuance there. Working with one of the country’s top artists didn’t count as politically advantageous, she supposed.
Laila took a deep breath. No time for any of that angry dwelling. She set it free into the air around her and pushed the door to the dressing room open.
Maha waited with a small team of stylists and ushered her into the chair. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said, giving Laila a perfunctory pat on the shoulder and stepping back to let the stylists work. “We don’t have much time.”
Laila thought about asking what the event was—what state dinner could have been planned at the last moment?—but what was the point? Her job was to sit there and be charming. And look pretty. And she didn’t need to know anything about the event in order to have a team of people do her makeup and help her change into—
“Oooh, what’s that?” The makeup artist whipped the cape off her shoulders and Laila stood up to look over the dress Maha held out. “It’s gorgeous.” The gown was a deep blue with silver leaves delicately embroidered into the cuffs of the sleeves, something closer to a tunic than the formal gowns she wore to most state dinners. Laila ran her hands over the silky fabric. “I love it.”
“Good, Your Highness—Laila.” Maha flashed a smile at her. “Put it on, quickly. Prince Zayid is waiting.” Laila craned her neck toward the door, but Zayid wasn’t there. “In the hall,” Maha said. “Go, let’s go.”
They went at top speed toward the door of the apartment and found him standing there in a crisp white shirt and pressed slacks that made the lean muscles of his legs stand out. Laila had to suppress the urge to unbutton his shirt and watch it fall to the floor in a cloud of white.
“There you are.” His dark eyes flared