Wedlocked: Banished Sheikh, Untouched Queen

As he opened the door Akmal practically fell inside. Xavian paused for long enough to give his vizier a withering look, and then strode confidently through the palace, past the paintings of his ancestors, down the long corridor and out to the gardens, ready now to get on with his duty.

The elders were seated, but stood when he entered,

His bride did not look round. She stood in a shimmering gold robe, her head veiled, and kept her eyes down as Xavian approached.

He was not looking forward to this!

Haydar was rigid in its ways. The women were covered and robed till they were wed. But even the generous layers of fabric could not disguise her rather rotund shape.

Joy and double joy, thought Xavian wryly. A fat, inexperienced lover to impregnate. Was there no end to his duties?

In a rare concession to modern times the Haydar elders had agreed the announcement would be accompanied by photos—this was not a time for grand feasting and celebration, but it was still much needed good news for the people of Haydar and Qusay.

The judge spoke, asking Layla if she would be a loyal wife, if she would serve her husband, provide him with children, nurture him and their offspring.

Her voice was soft when she agreed.

Again the judge asked her.

Again she said yes.

For the third time it was repeated, and Xavian watched her eyes blink, though still she did not look up at him—as was right.

‘I will.’

And then it was Xavian’s turn.

Would he provide for her?

It was all that was asked, and only asked once.

A King did not have to repeat himself.

‘Yes.’

She glanced up, and the eyes that met his were a deep violet, then long black lashes swept down again. Xavian found himself slightly appeased—they were clear and bright and really rather pretty—perhaps he could ask her to keep them open tonight!

It was over in moments. Their eyes had met for less than a second, yet that was the image that had been captured and would be beamed around the world in the morning. Sheikh King Xavian Al’ Ramiz of Qusay and now of Haydar, and his bride Sheikha Queen Layla Al’ Ramiz of Haydar and now Qusay.

The long-awaited union was now official.

‘We will leave for the desert in an hour…’ For the first time he addressed his wife. ‘I trust my staff are being helpful?’

She didn’t answer. Her eyes still downcast, she gave only a brief nod.

‘Is there anything you need?’ He attempted conversation, at least tried to put her at ease, but all he got for his efforts was either a nod or a shake of her head. She was refusing to give him even a glimpse of those pretty violet eyes, and Xavian gave a hiss of irritation.

‘I will see you in an hour.’

Clearly, Xavian thought, stamping up to his suite, the clip of his boots ringing out on the polished marble floor, it was going to be an extremely uneventful night.

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