‘No,’ Julia said with a smile. ‘It is the doing that you care about, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. The doing,’ Azhar repeated, pressing her hand. ‘And the travel—or at least—it is not so much wanderlust, that craving has been satisfied in the last ten years, but there is a difference between knowing that I can go wherever I choose, and knowing I can go only where my kingdom requires me to go, do you see?’
She nodded once more. She was beginning to see very clearly. Azhar’s reference to Qaryma as a gilded cage seemed now an appalling understatement. ‘You would be wedded to your kingdom.’
‘And expected to wed for the kingdom,’ Azhar said dryly, ‘a fitting bride taken for the sole purpose of producing an heir, whose sole purpose would be to inherit all this. And so it would go on. I won’t do it, Julia.’
She pressed his hand to her cheek. ‘The problem is, Azhar, that you are so honourable, and so incapable of giving anything less than your all, that you would do it, if you had to. You could not be half a king, could you?’
‘No. Now do you understand why I cannot be one at all?’
Julia bit her lip. ‘Yes,’ she said. It was not a lie. She understood perfectly why he would not, and why he must leave, but she could not imagine how he was going to salve his conscience afterwards.
Action, Azhar resolved, action was what was required to demonstrate to Julia that he was right and she was quite wrong. Yes, three weeks was ambitious, but where there was a will, anything could be achieved, and he had a will of iron. Curse Julia and her doubts and her endless questions.
He stopped his furious pacing and gazed out of the window. He was not thinking straight. Her assertion that his conscience would not allow him to stay away from Qaryma was of course nonsense, but there was no harm in admitting, just to himself, that he did care for the kingdom where he had been born and raised. He did care for the people too. He wished for them only the king they deserved, a king who wanted to reign, and who was fit to reign. Not a king who saw his kingdom as a millstone around his neck. Not a king who had abandoned them ten years ago. And who would leave again in three weeks’ time, for ever.
He pushed open the window that led on to his private terrace, taking his coffee with him. As far as Kamal was concerned though, he should be viewing the points Julia raised in a positive light. Shortcomings which could be addressed, not fatal flaws which could not.
Actions. Azhar knew exactly what actions he would take. Summoning a servant, he rattled off a series of commands. The fresh perspective which he’d asked Julia to provide was already paying dividends.
* * *
Having spent the morning writing up her notes, one of her least favourite and most neglected tasks, Julia had eaten some fruit for lunch and fallen asleep on the couch in her sitting room. When Aisha shook her gently awake she was confused, the beginnings of a headache niggling behind her eyes from the sun streaming through the curtains she had left open. It took her a good five minutes to understand that Azhar required her presence in a room whose name she couldn’t translate but which was located in the Second Court.
At Aisha’s insistence, she changed her crumpled clothing for a matching tunic and pantaloons in navy blue, a sky-blue scarf fastened over her face as she made her way through the palace. By the time she arrived at the Second Court, hurrying after the huge sentry, Julia was beginning to wonder if Azhar had decided he’d had enough of the honesty he’d demanded from her, and was having her expelled from Qaryma.
The huge door slammed shut behind her and the scene before her convinced Julia that she was right. Though the chamber was much smaller than the Divan, and in a way more ornate, the air was oppressive with authority. The walls were panelled and painted, the ceiling vaulted and tiled, the floor marble. In the centre, the throne was more like a low chair with clawed feet covered in gold leaf. And on the throne sat Azhar in a white-silk tunic and cloak. His headdress was also white, though the headband which kept it in place seemed to be made of golden rope.
Hovering in the doorway, Julia pushed back her veil. ‘You look extremely regal,’ she said. ‘What is this place? Ought I to kneel?’
Azhar got to his feet, extending his hand in welcome. ‘It is the Hall of Pleas, and of course you should not kneel.’
‘You mean it is a court room. Am I on trial?’
‘Have you committed a crime?’
She returned his smile uncertainly. ‘Some of the things I said to you yesterday about your brother were treasonable.’
‘But some of them were valid,’ Azhar said, ‘and as such, needed acting upon. This morning I had a formal audience with Kamal here. I have started to put measures into place to address your legitimate concerns.’
Julia surveyed the room, the throne, the Prince in front of her. ‘You dressed up to give your brother a dressing down.’
Azhar smiled faintly. ‘I thought a show of authority was in order to remind my brother that my word is final, my orders brook no challenge.’
‘The first time I saw you, you were sitting on a camel dressed in the clothes of a nomad, yet there was something about you that made me think—oh, I don’t know,’ Julia said. ‘I suppose what I mean is, you don’t require clothes or a throne to intimidate or exude natural authority, Azhar.’
‘Julia, you have singularly failed to be intimidated by me regardless of my attire, for which I profoundly thank you. Now, I do not have much time. I have summoned Council to assemble in an hour. The first of my actions, of which I hope you will approve.’
Approve! Azhar had never asked for her approval before. He had probably used the word inadvertently.
‘I have ordered Kamal to resume the thrice-weekly meetings,’ Azhar was saying now. ‘A weak ruler—and you notice I do not deny that my brother is weak—needs a strong Council to bolster his reign. I intend to review the membership before I leave too, to ensure that he has the wisest and most trusted advisers possible.’
‘Excellent decision,’ Julia said, because Azhar seemed to require something from her.
It seemed to be sufficient, for he smiled. ‘Then there is the matter of re-establishing the security of the border,’ Azhar continued. ‘The actions to be taken will be as follows.’
He proceeded to list a good many. Julia marvelled at his eye for detail and his memory for tasks. It was almost as if Azhar was putting measures in place to prevent his own return.
‘The issue of the falling diamond yield still troubles me. There is something I am missing, I am sure of it. I have resolved to visit the other mines. I hope you will accompany me. We will go further east, where the terrain is very different—you should find some new species worthy of your attention, and I would value your insights into—whatever we may uncover.’
‘I will do what I can, though my lack of Arabic...’
‘As an artist, you have an eye for detail, Julia, that much is apparent in those beautiful paintings you produce.’
‘Thank you, but I am really only a competent draughtsman, nothing more.’
‘You call yourself a draughtsman, but you are a true artist. I thought you were resolved to refrain from demeaning yourself and your talents.’
‘Very well, I am an artist,’ Julia said, ‘and my artistic eye is at your disposal. How far are the mines from Al-Qaryma?’
‘Far enough to require that we spend two nights