‘What makes you say that?’ she questioned.
‘Oh, you know.’ Lise shrugged. ‘It can’t be easy for you.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘All the interminable pressure on Murat to find a suitable bride.’
Catrin’s smile didn’t slip, even though the word suitable reminded her of all the things she wasn’t. All the things she could never be. ‘If you’re talking about Princess Sara—I know all about her,’ she said, wondering if she sounded as defensive as she felt. ‘I know she was promised to the Sultan, but the wedding was called off. And Murat was fine with it. In fact, he was more than fine.’
‘But I thought...’
Lise’s voice tailed off and she applied her attention to her starter, suddenly stabbing at the slice of smoked salmon as if it were alive on the plate.
During the pause which followed, Catrin felt the frightened leap of her heart. She felt as Eve must have done as she looked at the forbidden apple, unable to resist the temptation of something which was guaranteed to bring nothing but trouble. ‘What did you think?’ she asked quietly.
Lise managed to shake her head without a single strand of her blonde hair moving. ‘Honestly, it’s nothing.’
‘Please,’ said Catrin. She gave another of those convincing little smiles she seemed to have become so good at lately. ‘I’d really like to know.’
Her gaze darting over towards the two men, as if checking they weren’t listening, Lise shrugged. ‘It’s just that I’ve learned quite a bit about the desert regions since Niccolo acquired his new toy.’
‘New toy?’ repeated Catrin blankly.
‘His oil well. Which makes a change from an airline or a football team, but which means he spends more time in Zaminzar than I’d like. ‘ Lise pulled a face. ‘It’s much too hot there, and people seem to object if you show off even the tiniest bit of your body.’
Catrin thought this was a bit like complaining that anyone travelling to Alaska was advised to wear warm clothes, but she didn’t say anything. She wanted to know why Lise had called her ‘pragmatic’ and managed to make it sound like an insult in the process.
‘So what exactly have you heard?’ she questioned. ‘About Murat?’
Lise put her fork down; her smoked salmon untouched. ‘That his people are eager for him to produce an heir. That they consider the dynasty to be unstable as long as there is no direct bloodline.’
‘I think that’s always been the case.’
‘And that’s why he’s been in Zaminzar these past few weeks,’ continued Lise. ‘He has been meeting with the king’s daughter there, with the question of marriage very much in mind. You knew about that, of course? Apparently, she’s quite a beauty.’
Catrin felt faint. Yellow-white spots danced before her eyes. She became aware of the sudden rush of blood to her head and the sound of roaring in her ears, but somehow she kept her smile in place. That stupid smile, which meant nothing.
‘Yes, I’d heard something along those lines,’ she said carelessly.
‘You had?’ Lise’s mouth opened wide, like a camera lens. ‘And you’re okay with it?’