was similar to that of Raihan, but the two cultures had grown up next door—they weren’t twins. Laila rushed over to the display as if a starting gun had sounded the beginning of the tour. The curator led her through the exhibits one by one, his even voice spilling facts like gemstones. Her head spun with them. It was like trying to hold a fistful of diamonds—just when she thought she couldn’t hold anymore, the curator added another tidbit. And here she was without a way to take notes.
An hour into the tour, she realized Zayid wasn’t next to her. She turned her head to look and spotted him coming toward her at a clip, his eyes on his phone.
“We need to move to the next exhibit if we want to stay on schedule.” He shot her a distracted grin, as if this wasn’t the most important museum visit of her life.
“Not yet,” said Laila. “There’s more to learn about this display.” They’d stopped in front of a glass case filled with pottery implements from five hundred years before.
“We need to continue on.” Zayid checked the time on his phone again. “I’ve allotted one more hour for the visit. I want you to see the whole museum, but that means we have to pick up the pace.” He moved to the next exhibit and gestured for Laila and the curator to follow along. When they met up again, Zayid looked up from the painting he was studying and smiled at the curator. “Please tell the sultan we could not have asked for a more enlightening visit.”
Laila’s mind stuck on the words. Was this some official visit, meant to show the sultan that they appreciated Majadin’s art and history? Would she later discover photos had been taken of them going in and out, big smiles on their faces?
An hour later, on the steps of the museum, Laila listened hard for the telltale click of the cameras but didn’t hear or see any photographers. She settled back into her seat in the SUV and looked out the window at the museum entrance. The pillars retreated into the distance. She wished for full day to explore the collection—a full week. But it turned out that even marrying a prince couldn’t make all her dreams come true.
Not that she’d expected it. She shook off her sadness at having to leave the museum behind and sat up straight. “So, where are we going next?”
13
The helicopter soared over the mountain ridge, and soon the green oasis came into view. This time, Laila took her time scanning the area, and one thing stuck out. “Is that another helipad?”
“Yes,” said Zayid. “We’re landing there.”
“On a helipad in the middle of the desert?” Laila laughed, adventure singing in her veins. “Since when are there helipads in the middle of the desert?”
“Since I had one built at my favorite oasis.”
The helicopter descended again, and Laila’s breath caught in her throat. She’d expected to head back to the palace and sit at Zayid’s right hand at a long table full of diplomats and powerbrokers, but this—this was so far from the formal dining room and her formal gowns and small talk with people she’d never see again once this was all over.
They got out of the helicopter, and Zayid led her down a narrow path through the trees. They came out into a green space on the edge of the desert, a stream with a miniature waterfall trickling nearby. The clearing was large enough that the circular tent in the center, all in white and strung with lights, had plenty of empty space around it. The evening air hung softly over everything, the sound of the helicopter growing more distant every second.
Zayid led her into the tent, and Laila sucked in a breath. This was no camping tent with faulty zippers and flimsy stakes. This tent had a ten-foot ceiling, screens, and draped fabric, and the floor was laid with plush carpets in the vibrant patterns she recognized from the marketplace. A low table laden with covered dishes sat in the center of the rugs, surrounded by cushions.
“Zayid, are you taking me on a dinner date?”
He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Yes. And more, if you’re so inclined. Or we could go back to the palace.”
She took a second look around. The circular tent wasn’t the only one. Doorways hung with heavy fabric led to other tents. One of them was a bedroom with a king-sized bed in a dreamlike cloud