Beholden to the Throne. Carol Marinelli

a distance,’ Emir said. ‘But the closer you get …’

      He did not finish. Instead he went back to staring broodily out of the window, replaying battles of the past in his mind, hearing the pounding hooves and the cries, feeling the grit of sand rubbed in wounds, history in every grain. Yet above all that he could hear her, reading a book to the twins, hear his daughters laughing as they impatiently turned the pages. He wanted to turn to the sound of them, to forget the pain and suffering, to set aside the past, but as King he had sworn to remember.

      The heat hit Amy as soon as she stepped out of the helicopter. Emir held Nakia, while Amy carried Clemira and even though the helicopter had landed as close as possible to the compound of tents still the walk was hard work—the shifting soft sand made each step an effort. Once inside a tent, she took off her shoes and changed into slippers as Emir instructed. She thanked the pilot, who had brought in her suitcase, and then Emir led her through a passageway and after that another, as he briefly explained what would happen.

      ‘The girls will rest before we take them to the Bedouins. There is a room for you next to them.’

      They were in what appeared to be a lounge, its sandy floor hidden beneath layer after layer of the most exquisite rugs. The different areas were all separated by coloured drapes. It was like being in the heart of a vibrant labyrinth and already she felt lost.

      ‘There are refreshments through there,’ Emir explained, ‘but the twins are not to have any. Today they must eat and drink only from the desert …’

      Amy had stopped listening. She spun around as she heard the sound of the helicopter taking off. ‘He’s forgotten to bring in their luggage!’ She went to run outside, but she took a wrong turn and ran back into the lounge again, appalled that Emir wasn’t helping. ‘You have to stop him—we need to get the twins’ bags.’

      ‘They do not need the things you packed for them. They are here to learn the ways of the desert and to be immersed in them. Everything they need is here.’

      ‘I didn’t just pack toys for them!’ She could hear the noise of the chopper fading in the distance. Well, he’d just have to summon someone to get it turned around. ‘Emir—I mean, Your Highness.’ Immediately Amy corrected herself, for she had addressed him as she had so long ago. ‘It’s not toys or fancy clothes that I’m worried about. It’s their bottles, their formula.’