He didn’t say anything and her heart pounded while she waited for him to react. She couldn’t tell what thoughts were crossing that brilliant mind of his. But then he laughed and relief washed through her.
“Touché, Emily.” He took her hand and drew her to his side. “I believe you are ready now.”
He led her out of the room and down a long hallway where servants scurried to and fro. He didn’t walk too fast, for which she was thankful since he’d stripped her of her sensible shoes, and she found herself peering into ornate room after ornate room as they strode by.
The royal palace of Kyr was filled with priceless objects—marble and gold statues, intricately carved furniture, paintings, tapestries, and the most colorful rugs she’d ever seen. Some of them were huge and must have taken many years to weave. She knew enough about Oriental carpets to know they were not made on machines. Hundreds of women would have labored for many hours a day on the works of art gracing the palace floors.
Outside the soaring windows, the sky was a blazing, clear blue. The horizon shimmered with heat and the brown mountains in the distance appeared to wobble at their bases. Emily could see tall palm trees and a camel train plodding along. It was starkly different from anywhere else she’d been with Kadir thus far.
But it had a compelling beauty of its own and she wondered at Kadir’s seeming discomfort about returning to Kyr. Had his life in the palace been lonely? Harsh? Or maybe it was just boring and he much preferred his life now.
She found herself suddenly wanting to know more about him, about who he’d been as a child and why he seemed so intent on presenting his father and the royal court with a bride of whom they would not approve. Because if she knew anything at all about him, it was that he was brilliant and capable. He would handle inheriting a throne with the grace and skill with which he handled every business encounter she’d ever seen him in. Kadir was a born leader.
But Kadir wasn’t going to give her a chance to ask any questions just now. Instead, he steered her into a giant room filled with milling people—who instantly stopped what they were doing and sank to their knees as a man in a uniform bellowed something. She would have gasped at the sight if not for Kadir giving her a warning look.
It was extraordinary to see so many people drop so quickly, to hear the rustling of their clothing and the hush that spread over the room. Emily’s belly clenched tight as Kadir said something in Arabic. A second later, people rose, their gazes landing on her.
“Keep your chin up,” Kadir murmured, tucking her arm into his and anchoring her to his side.
“What is this?” she whispered back as panic began to unwind inside her.
“The daily audience. My father cannot attend, of course, and he’s asked me to do so in his stead.”
“Audience? Does this mean you have to sit somewhere and receive them one by one?”
“No. This is a formality. Their petitions to the throne are filtered through the functionaries and addressed by the king and council in session. Rarely, one of them receives a private audience. This is merely for appearances.”
Appearances. Emily gazed out over the crowd and felt her heart thrumming against her chest. Not because she wasn’t accustomed to attending large gatherings with Kadir, though she was usually standing behind him with a notebook and pen, but because she was so visible. And garnering more than a few stares.
“I don’t think they like me,” she muttered.
Kadir smiled. Somehow, it seemed as if it was for her alone. She told herself it was just a part of the mirage.