with Jazz?’ He was fairly confident Sharif would have told him if anything serious had happened to his Jazz—Princess Jasmina of Kareshi, as Jazz was better known to the world. ‘Jazz is okay, isn’t she?’
‘Of course she is.’
‘But?’ He played it down, but his heart had stopped at the thought of harm coming to Jazz. They’d known each other since Sharif had first invited Tyr to spend his school holidays in Kareshi, where Jazz teased him unmercifully for his lack of desert lore. He’d shrugged the irritating kid sister off, but surprised himself by always being pleased to see her. A type of camaraderie had grown between them, and the thought of Jazz sick, or injured— His stomach churned. He’d seen too much of that.
‘But nothing, Tyr,’ Britt insisted. ‘I’d tell you if there was anything wrong.’
He searched Britt’s eyes, knowing that wasn’t the whole story.
‘She’s coming tonight, Tyr.’
‘Great.’ It would be good to see Jazz, though Sharif’s sister could see through everyone, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
‘She’s changed, Tyr,’ Britt said quietly.
He looked up.
‘Like the rest of us, Tyr, Jazz has grown up.’
What was his sister trying to tell him? He shrugged, picturing Jazz with braces and pigtails. How much could one person change? He glanced at his reflection in the window, where he got his answer to that.
‘What’s wrong, Tyr?’
He slanted a smile. ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.’
‘We’ve all changed,’ Britt said, reading him easily, ‘but at least you’re smiling now. Thinking of Jazz?’
He hummed and shrugged Britt’s question off, but he was thinking about Jazz, who, all those years back, had used to refer to him as the guy from the frozen north with the funny name. Sharif, Jazz and he had been an oddball team. Jazz started out the most unwanted member of that team, but she was also the most determined, and could ride him and Sharif into the ground. And she knew the shifting patterns of the desert like the back of her hand. There had been no getting away from Jazz Kareshi, so in the end they’d given up.
‘Don’t look so worried, Britt. I can handle Jazz,’ he said with confidence.
‘Just don’t tease her, Tyr.’
‘Don’t tease Jazz?’ He frowned. Jazz had always been the butt of their humour, and Jazz had always given back as good as she got.
‘Jazz has only agreed to come tonight because this is such a big family occasion. And I’m here to chaperone her,’ Britt added with a meaningful look. ‘Me and Sharif, that is.’
He frowned. ‘This is all sounding terribly formal and not a bit like Jazz.’
‘Like I said, Tyr, Jazz is all grown up, and unmarried sisters of the ruling sheikh in Kareshi don’t share our freedoms.’
‘Is Sharif penning her in?’
‘Don’t be silly. You know Sharif is a big advocate for progress. This is Jazz’s decision, and we have to respect her for her beliefs. It shows a quiet strength and lots of courage, in my opinion. Jazz has stood by Sharif’s side throughout as he’s coaxed Kareshi into the twenty-first century, and now she doesn’t want to do anything to rock the boat, let alone give the traditionalists in Kareshi an excuse to criticise Sharif for implementing progress too quickly.’
‘So Jazz sacrifices herself?’ he demanded, outraged. ‘Jazz shuts herself away?’
‘Not exactly, but Jazz has become quite conservative, so for her sake, Tyr, just tone it down when you see her, okay?’
‘What do you think I’m going to do? We’ve been friends for most of our lives, Britt. I’m hardly going to leap on her.’
‘Just cool the friendship, and stay clear of Jazz, except for the most perfunctory greeting. Okay?’
He raked his hair. ‘I can’t believe you’re serious. Is anyone allowed to approach the royal presence?’
‘Don’t mock her, Tyr. Of course they are.’ Britt fired a warning glance across his bows for making light of something that was obviously a great concern to her. ‘Jazz lives a near normal life in Kareshi. Sharif broke all the traditionalists’ rules by giving Jazz a job at his racing stables, where she’s excelled in management, but, more importantly, this has opened the floodgates for all the women of Kareshi to work, if they choose to do so.’
‘But?’ he prompted, homing in on Britt’s brief hesitation.
‘But it’s made Jazz more determined than ever to uphold tradition in other areas of her life, so that no one can find fault with Sharif’s decision to allow her to work.’
‘What does “upholding tradition” mean exactly?’
‘It means that Jazz believes Kareshi can only take one small step at a time, and if by staying in the shadows it means every woman in Kareshi has the right to work, she’s prepared to do that. We should admire her for that sacrifice.’
‘Her sacrifice?’
‘Kareshi has to be coaxed, not bullied, Tyr. Jazz understands this as I do. Freedom for women to work is the first big step. Freedom for unmarried women to mix openly with men without being shunned by society is the next. Kareshi will take that step, but Jazz is devoted to her people, and I think we can safely trust Jazz to know what’s best in this instance.’
‘To know what’s best for her, or for Kareshi?’
‘Don’t get so heated, Tyr. For both, of course. And please don’t scowl at me like that.’
‘You’re right, and I apologise.’ Britt had done too much for him for him to sound off at her like that. ‘I’m still trying to get my head around the feisty girl I knew becoming some sort of reclusive woman.’
‘So you didn’t shut yourself away from those who loved you?’
Trust Britt to point that out. He forced a smile over his concern for Jazz. ‘Point taken.’
‘Be happy for her, Tyr. Jazz is a wonderful young woman with the strongest sense of duty where Kareshi is concerned, something I know you can relate to. It makes sense that she doesn’t want to cause ripples on the pond.’
‘It makes sense to you maybe,’ he agreed, ‘but Jazz is my friend, and I’m going to see a lot of friends tonight and I’m going to treat them all the same.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’ Taking his face between her hands, Britt stood on tiptoes to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘Now, there are some people outside that door who have waited a long time to give you a big, sloppy welcome without the rest of the world looking on.’
His spirits soared with expectation. ‘Eva and Leila are here?’
‘With their husbands—I didn’t think you’d mind, seeing as Roman and Raffa are your closest friends?’
‘I don’t mind at all.’ He was looking forward to it, and his cynical self reassured him that if he kept it light they wouldn’t see anything in his eyes except the happiness a reunion like this would bring.
His middle sister, Eva, was the first into the room, changing the dynamics completely. Eva lived up to her bright red hair with the sharpest tongue this side of a scalpel, and the long space of time since they’d seen each other hadn’t dulled Eva’s approach. Standing back, she weighed him up. ‘You look every bit as formidable as I remember, warrior-boy.’
‘I could crush you with one finger, squirt.’
Fists raised, they squared up for a mock fight, and then, bursting into tears, Eva launched herself at him. Pummelling him