“Yes. You’ve made friends, obviously, you always do wherever we’ve taken you. It was sweet of Nijah to include you in her cousin’s pre-party. Just…be mindful that like everything else here, friendships are built on sand, and sand shifts according to the wind.”
Regina turned her head. Her mother’s expression was placid but her eyes held storms. She was worried for her daughter. Regina wondered what her father had told her and what he’d left out. No time to parse it now.
Instead, she did something that felt utterly foreign and completely right at the same time. She crossed the space between them and hugged her mother. And her mother surprised her by pulling her close.
“Please watch your step tonight, Regina,” her mother breathed in her ear. “We’re being watched.”
What did Dad do now? Regina wondered. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d earned himself a babysitter from their foreign hosts.
“The king?” Regina whispered back, hoping she wouldn’t answer with the crown prince.
“No. By our own.”
Regina stiffened. That was not good. Worse than if the king had decided one of the diplomats in his country needed closer scrutiny, or if Rashid had grown suspicious after all.
My own country is watching my dad. It wasn’t unheard of but it was never, ever wanted.
Her mother pulled back and ran her hands down the front of her golden dress, looking as if she were worried that Regina had wrinkled it beyond repair. Then she loudly proclaimed, “Go on then. I still have to fix my hair. Your father and I will see you later at the party.”
“Not if I see you first,” Regina joked, her usual old line from a movie series about young spies that she loved as a kid—Double-O Trouble. Anything to lighten the mood.
Or throw off an eavesdropping spy.
* * *
It hadn’t taken the crown prince long to find her at the pre-party as she’d made sure to stand under one of the spotlights at the edge of the crowded dance floor. She was practically deaf from the music and the multicolored lights were threatening to stir up a migraine but she kept a cool smile on her face and laughed whenever Nijah shouted something she couldn’t hear into her ear. The woman wore a floor-length dress and sparkly hijab unlike the Western women in the room, many hired to dance and party with the men.
Gina’s phone vibrated in her purse. She tried not to look up at the mezzanine level where she practically felt the crown prince’s eyes crawling over her body. Instead, she excused herself and ducked into the marble foyer. She pulled out the phone and checked the new message.
Such a charming dress, little queen.His nickname for her, a play on her first name.
I’m glad it pleases you, sirshe texted back, half-gagging as she typedsir.
I wish to see it close upcame the predictable reply.
Of course, sir.
And we’re off to the racesshe thought. She knew where the cameras were in the foyer so she turned and posed to show off her legs. Just to take it over the top, she brushed the side of a pedestal with her purse, in effect dusting it. The crown prince could crow all he wanted about his modern outlook on women’s rights but his proclivities and locked-up daughter spoke louder.
Meet me at the top of the stairs, little queen.
Then:
Bring your purse.
Regina smiled provocatively while dying a little inside as she turned to the staircase at the end of the foyer.
Suck it up and think of the princess. If you’re about to suffer at the hands of this asshole, think of everything she’s undoubtedly been through.
The lights were dim on the mezzanine but he was easy to spot in his gleaming white thobe and ghutra with its black bands. He looked younger than his years and his smile was nothing but warm and charming. Regina hated herself for initially finding him attractive. Older men who projected confidence were her catnip and she’d had the tiniest of crushes when she’d first met him the day her father was posted here. Now, Regina knew better. The confidence was empty swagger covering deep insecurities. Worse, the man reveled in torture and subservience. He loved breaking people just because he could. It made him feel bigger.
She knew she presented a challenge to him, a puzzle. She dressed and acted the way he wanted without him having to tell her—he never asked for anything, only commanded—but she’d held out against letting him take her to bed. She pretended to be excited about his stories of breaking spies, dissidents, and political rivals, hoping he would see her as someone who wanted to share in his ‘adventures’ as an equal. The forbidden idea seemed to excite him as well and kept her at the forefront of Rashid’s mind.
It also kept her out of his bed as just another plaything. She had her limits.
Now, if she could just gain his trust enough to let her see Princess Sana, maybe she could take photos and get them to someone who could stir international interest. Or at the very least Regina could let Sana know that someone cared about her welfare, that she hadn’t been forgotten, and Regina was doing what she could to get her free.
“Little queen,” Rashid said, spreading his arms as he looked her up and down. The music was still loud but not deafening, perfect for cover while they talked.
