The Sheikh's Baby Scandal(2)

They fascinated him.

He looked along the row of Crown Princes gone by. All were imposing-looking men, dressed in warrior robes with their hands on the hilt of their swords. All stared down at him with cool grey eyes and grim expressions.

He looked at a younger version of his grandfather, the King, and then he looked at his father.

They looked so stern.

One day, his mother had told him, his portrait would hang there, for he was born to be King. ‘And you will be such a good king, Kedah. I know that you shall listen to your people.’

He had heard the brittle edge to his mother’s voice as she’d gazed up at the portraits. ‘Why don’t they smile?’ Kedah had asked.

‘Because being Crown Prince is a serious thing.’

‘I don’t want it, then!’ Kedah had laughed.

Now he looked away from the portraits and ran to a meeting room that had several desks. He went to hide under one, sure that he would not be found there.

Or perhaps he would, for there were noises coming from behind a large wooden door and he recognised his mother’s voice as she called out. He knew that that was his father’s private office, and wondered why she would be in there.

And then he heard a low cry.

It sounded as if his mother was hurt, and Kedah’s expression changed from happy to a look of concern as he heard muffled sobs and moans.

His father had told him to take care of his mother while he was away. Even at this tender age, Kedah knew that people worried about her, for Rina could be unpredictable at times.

He came out from under the desk and stood wondering what he should do. He knew that the door handles were too high for him. For a moment he considered running to alert the royal nanny that his mother sounded distressed, but then he changed his mind. Often his mother wept, and it did not seem to endear her to the staff nor to the rest of the royal family.

And so, instead of getting help, Kedah selected a chair and started to drag it across the room. The chair was made of the same wood as the heavy door, and it felt like ages until he had got it close enough to climb upon it and attempt to turn the handle on the office door.

‘Ummu...?’ Kedah called out to his mother as he climbed onto the chair and turned the heavy handle. ‘Ummu?’ he said again as the door swung open.

But then he frowned, because his mother seemed to be sitting on the desk and yet she was being held in Abdal’s arms.

‘Intadihr!’

His mother shouted that Kedah was to stay where he was, and she and Abdal moved out of his line of sight. Kedah did as he was told. He was not sure what was happening, but a moment or so later Abdal walked past on his way out.

Kedah had never really liked him. Abdal was always cross whenever Kedah came to the offices and pleaded with his mother to take him for a walk. It was as if he didn’t want the young Prince around.

Kedah stared at Abdal’s departing back as the man walked quickly along the corridor and then, still standing on the chair, he turned and looked to his mother. Rina was flustered, and she smoothed down her robe as she walked towards him.

Kedah did not hold his arms out to be lifted. ‘Why was Abdal here?’ he asked. ‘Where are the guards?’

There were no flies on Kedah—not even at that young age.

‘It’s okay,’ Rina said as she lifted him, unyielding, from the chair. ‘Mummy was upset and didn’t want anyone to see. I was crying.’

‘Why?’ Kedah asked as he took in his mother’s features. Her face was all red and, yes, he had heard her sob. ‘Why are you always sad?’

‘Because I miss my homeland sometimes, Kedah. Abdal is also from there. He is here to ease the transition and to help our two countries unite. Abdal understands how difficult it can be to get the King to agree to any changes. We were trying to come up with a way that will please all the people.’

Kedah just stared back at his mother as she hurriedly spoke on.

‘Your father would be very upset if he knew that I had been crying while he was away. He is tired of arguing with the King and he has enough on his plate, so it is better not to tell him. It is better that you don’t tell anyone what you just saw.’

Kedah stared into her eyes more deeply and tried to read her. His mother did not look sad. If anything, she looked scared, and that had his heart tightening in a fear for her that he didn’t understand.

‘I don’t want you to be unhappy.’

‘Then I shan’t be,’ Rina said, and brought a hand up to Kedah’s face and cupped his taut cheek. ‘After all, I have so much to give thanks for—I have a beautiful son and a wonderful home...’

‘So don’t you cry again,’ Kedah said, and those gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes of his narrowed. He removed his mother’s hand from his cheek and looked right into his mother’s eyes. For one so very young, he spoke with command. ‘Ever!’