Bilal looked around at his family. ‘I see you have already met everyone.’ He gestured to Zara. ‘This is my eldest, Zara.’
‘Welcome to Khorasan Palace, Your Highness,’ Zara said, bowing her head. ‘How wonderful that we were finally able to make this meeting happen.’
He responded with a polite nod.
‘Come,’ Bilal said. ‘Sit. Rest.’
They all made their way over to the table where a servant was laying the last of the refreshments. The autumn breeze was a refreshing change from the scorching summer heat that had lingered for far too long.
‘Yasmin, why don’t you take Omar for a walk?’ Zara suggested.
The youngest siblings excused themselves and wandered away.
Everyone else took a seat, Lilah next to the prince. Zara poured some tea.
‘Thank you,’ Tariq said.
The king discreetly wiped his already sweaty hands on his robe. ‘And how is your father?’
Tariq drank before answering. ‘He’s well, thank you, and sends his respects.’
‘Good, good.’
Tariq cleared his throat. ‘I hope you don’t think me rude for getting to the point of my business,’ he said, shifting in his chair, ‘but our ship isn’t safe in your port, as you know.’
Bilal’s face reddened at that. ‘I understand. Please, go ahead.’
‘As you’re likely aware,’ Tariq began, ‘we have the largest supply of limestone in the empire. I’m currently trying to gauge demand.’
Zara frowned. ‘Gruisea has been exporting all over the empire for decades. How’s it possible that you don’t have that information?’
There was a beat of silence before he responded. ‘All trade goes through Slevaborg now. The Emperor chooses which information is passed on.’
Did he say all trade? It was worse than any of them had realised.
‘I see,’ Zara said, taking the opportunity to steer the conversation. ‘It sounds like you need more than figures. While information is a great foundation, foundations don’t build fortresses.’ She paused. ‘If Gruisea and Avanid are to survive the threats encroaching on us, then perhaps we need to align more closely.’
And there it was—Avanid’s hand laid out for him to see.
The subtle tightening of Lilah’s shoulders was the only sign of her discomfort. Small, but enough to draw Tariq’s attention. His green eyes seemed to darken as he set his cup down on the table with a soft clink.
‘Go on,’ Tariq said, looking around at the captive audience.
‘One of mutual benefit and longevity,’ Zara continued in a steady voice.
The prince nodded. ‘I see.’ His gaze returned to Lilah, staring at her as if he were deciphering a puzzle. ‘Such an alliance would require deep trust.’
Zara nodded in agreement. ‘In times like these, trade is no longer enough.’
Aisha swallowed down the odd sense of guilt and complicity at the trap being set. All while her father sipped his tea and said nothing. He’d been letting Zara make big decisions for years, and this was no different.
Tariq sat back, fingers drumming on his thigh. ‘Since we’ve established we don’t have time to waste, what is it that you’re proposing?’
Bilal cleared his throat, and when everyone looked at him, he reached for his cup and drank.
Frowning, Zara turned her attention back to Tariq. ‘Gruisea has a proud history of great queens. Women who have stood alongside their kings, not merely as ornaments but strategic partners in governance.’ She paused. ‘Lilah here embodies all the traits a crown prince like yourself would seek in a wife.’
The conversation was going exactly as planned, and yet Aisha had never felt more uncomfortable. She could only imagine how hard it was for Lilah.
