Desert prince, bartered bride. M.K.

chapter seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Dabir stared at Silvia, openmouthed at her decision to deal with the political crisis herself. She would have laughed at his expression if her mind hadn't been whirring with possibilities. "I'll need a camel. No, two camels. And supplies. And—"

"You cannot! If the prince discovered– Highness, you must not!"

"What do you think my husband would prefer? To have war break out because no one took responsibility to prevent it? You know the answer to that, even if the members of the Council do not. I am not afraid of the danger.

"Don't worry, I will travel in disguise," Silvia said in a hasty attempt to reassure the horrified secretary. Hadn't she done so once before, and hadn't it paid off?

Pushing past Dabir, she hurried back to the harem. She still had the outfit somewhere. Doubt assailed her as she pulled the headdress over her hair and fastened the band in place. She was not only defying Munir, she was publicly usurping his authority. Or at least she would be, if he did not authorize her as his envoy. Which he could do retroactively.

Encouraged by the thought, Silvia fastened a leather belt around her waist and slipped a jewelled dagger into the sheath, conscious that she was, with this single act, risking everything. Even if she did manage to broker a deal, even if Munir did place the veneer of authority upon it, it was possible, very possible, that far from being impressed with her resourcefulness, he would never forgive her. She would lose everything. Perhaps he might even divorce her. It was possible in his country. She would be shamed. She would have to return to England. And if that happened, Munir might even renege on the deal he was at this very moment going to discuss with the British Consul. But he had given his word, and that was one thing she did not have to doubt.

Was she being foolish? Undoubtedly. Could she live with herself if she did not act? No. This was her one opportunity to make the man she loved see her in a new light. That was worth any risk. Resolutely, Silvia pulled the voluminous cloak around herself and made her way out to the main palace courtyard. Dabir was waiting, dressed for travel. "If I cannot persuade you to reconsider, Highness…"

"You cannot," Silvia said, clicking her tongue so that her camel fell to its knees to allow her to mount.

"Then I will be your escort," Dabir said.

"Thank you, but I cannot allow you to get into trouble on my behalf."

"I am already in trouble," Dabir said sadly. "The prince will be angry with me for not preventing you from going. If I come with you, Highness, at least he will know that I tried my best to protect you. And besides, you are right. He would want everything possible done to prevent a war."

Silvia hesitated. An escort would undoubtedly be useful, especially one she knew and could trust. "I will intercede with the prince on your behalf," she said. "Fear not."

Dabir smiled weakly. His actions might cost him his job. But did the Englishwoman realize she might well lose her head? He could not help but admire her courage. Any man would be proud to have such a wife. Any man, with one notable exception. "May the fates smile on us both," he said fervently, as he followed the princess out of the courtyard.