The Sheik's Ruby (19 page)

“Of course.” Hakim sat beside her on the couch. His eyebrows drew together. “Are you pleased with the palace?”

“I’ve never seen any place so extraordinary. Every time I look around, the splendor takes my breath away.”

Hakim’s face relaxed. “Shelby Jo, to me, your opinion is very important. I am so glad you approve of my home.”

Shelby studied his expression, wondering how he could feel inadequate. And why was her approval so important? “I love it, Hakim.” She smiled, but couldn’t hold back a yawn.

Hakim stood and reached for her hand. “I did not realize how late it is. You must be exhausted. We can see more of the palace tomorrow.”

Shelby put her hand over her mouth to stifle another yawn. They strolled through the entrance hall toward the stairway where Aaliya waited.

“Goodnight, Shelby Jo.” Hakim cupped her cheek in his hand and ran his thumb along her cheekbone.

She closed her eyes, leaning against his palm. The feeling of comfort from his touch pushed away any lingering unease at the strange situation, reassuring her things would be all right. “Goodnight, Hakim.”

****

Hakim stood at the bottom of the staircase long after Shelby had gone. He considered the evening with Shelby and its implications. She had placed an enormous amount of trust in him, and he did not take the responsibility lightly.

“Did you have a nice dinner?” a familiar voice asked.

“Good evening, Father.” Hakim turned and took his father’s arm. “The doctors said you should rest until your injuries are fully healed.”

The Sheik waved his hand, shaking off the suggestion. “She is quite pretty, this American girl.”

“Yes, Shelby Walker is a lovely woman.” Hakim attempted to keep the defensiveness out of his tone. He hated these word games his father played. He braced himself for the lecture he knew was coming.

“It is natural for a man to be charmed by beauty. I assure you the novelty will soon wear off.”

Hakim bristled at the condescension in his father’s voice. “I know you do not trust American women, but Shelby is different.”

“My son, we both know this infatuation you have is nothing more than a passing fancy. I have no doubt you will do the right thing as far as she is concerned.”

“Father, you say we must move forward as a nation, that for Khali-dar to modernize and adopt some Western ideals is important. But I am expected to ‘form a fortunate alliance within the country’s elite inner circle.’” Hakim could feel his voice trembling with rage, but he fought to control it.

“I will not be dragged into this conversation again. I have promised never to force you into a relationship.” The Sheik placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Hakim, you are the only family I have.” His voice softened. “Your happiness is important to me. But you also have a duty to your country. As much as we are leaning toward the Western ways of life, we must realize it will be a slow change. Our culture and traditions are very much a part of Khali-dar. It is a balancing act. We, as the leaders of this country, must not lean too far either way. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.”

“And once the threat to Miss Walker and her family is neutralized, she will be sent back to America?”

Hakim swallowed, feeling the lump growing in his throat, and whispered, “Yes, Father.”

****

Shelby followed Aaliya up the staircase with aching muscles. She hadn’t realized how tired she was as she dragged her feet and had a hard time keeping her eyes open. The last few days had been physically and emotionally draining, and combined with jet-lag, Shelby felt like a zombie.

When she reached her room, she saw the bed was turned down and lights glowed on the walls. A golden tea set adorned the small table. Steam rose from the spout of the teapot next to a plate of butter cookies. The smell of rich chocolate floated in the air. She thought fondly of her old chipped FFA mug on her draining board at home, rinsed and waiting for a packet of instant cocoa.

“You seem quite tired, Miss Walker. If I am no longer needed, I will leave you now,” Aaliya said.

“Thanks, Aaliya. Goodnight.”

Left alone, Shelby changed into her pajamas and poured hot chocolate into a delicate tea cup before sitting at the desk to check her e-mail. Her family was safe, Lacey was going crazy for details, and no word from Xan.

Shelby was exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep. Even though she sank into a pile of feather soft pillows on smooth satin sheets, she was unable to turn off the churning in her mind. She wanted to blame her inability to relax on the time change, but she knew it was the uncertainty about her situation. At dinner, she’d been calmed by Hakim’s words and presence, but now that Shelby was alone, all of the doubts that had overwhelmed her returned full force. What had she gotten herself into? Would she ever be able to return to her normal life in Colorado? Did she want to?

****

Finding herself wide awake in a dark room, Shelby took a moment to remember where she was. A soft breeze blew through the open windows, billowing the curtains around her bed. She stretched luxuriously on the silky sheets and looked at the bedside clock. Two-thirty? Knowing falling back to sleep would be impossible, she wrapped herself in a robe and stepped out onto the balcony. Strategically placed lights dotted the grounds. Shelby wondered if their purpose was aesthetic or security.
Probably both
.

She chewed on her lip as she contemplated leaving her room. She opened the door, peering down the darkened hallway.

“Can I assist you, Miss Walker?”

“Oh, Aaliya. You scared me. Do you just wait out here all night?”

Aaliya laughed. “No, my room is next to yours. I heard you open the door. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Could you show me the way back to the library? I’d like to find a book to read.” This was the first time she had asked anyone in the Sheik’s household for anything, and doing so made her feel uncomfortable.

“Yes, Miss Walker. As you wish.”

As they stepped through the silent arched halls and down the grand stairs, Shelby studied Aaliya. Again, she was impressed by her grace. Aaliya walked with her head held high, her beautiful hair swinging like a rope back and forth across her back.

The hallway finally started to look familiar, and Shelby recognized they were close to the library.

A few yards from the room, Shelby spotted two men, probably guards, step out of the large double doors and speak to Aaliya.

She answered them and when she turned to talk to Shelby, Aaliya was interrupted by a man’s voice calling from inside the library.

The guards stood aside.

Shelby followed Aaliya into the room and glanced around to see where the voice had come from.

An older man sat in one of the leather armchairs near a corner of the room. His face was partly lit by lamplight.

Shelby felt sure if he hadn’t spoken, she may not have noticed him.

Aaliya bowed and began to speak.

The man held up his hand, stopping her words. He spoke to Aaliya.

Shelby realized he must be the reason for security. He must be important. Who was he? The Sheik? He didn’t exactly give off the royal vibe Hakim did. She looked closer, and decided he couldn’t be the man from the grainy photograph she had seen on the internet. Maybe he was a librarian. But why had Aaliya bowed? Should Shelby bow to the librarian? Come to think of it, she hadn’t asked the rules about who bowed to whom.

“I will return shortly to accompany you back to your room, Miss Walker.” Aaliya bowed again to the man, and departed, leaving Shelby alone with the stranger.

The man’s cheeks were sunken, giving him the appearance of someone who battled a lingering illness. His beard had started to gray, except for the area above and on the sides of his mouth where it remained very dark.
Kind of a black handlebar moustache
. She found herself unable to determine his age. He sat straight, like a younger man, and his eyes were intelligent and piercing. But his skin was a sickly color, and a cane rested against the wall next to him.

The man observed Shelby for a moment before he spoke. “You are the prince’s friend from America.”

“Hi. I’m Shelby Walker.” She shifted her feet, wondering if she should shake his hand and decided against it. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I couldn’t sleep and came to find something to read.”

“I suffer from the same difficulty. Reading seems to be the only cure for my insomnia, as well.” He wore a robe and slippers and watched Shelby with narrowed eyes.

She searched for something to say, feeling the need to fill the uncomfortable silence. His staring made her insides squirm. “Do you work here in the palace?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Much of my time is spent advising the prince.”

She wondered what Hakim thought of his advisor watching him with the same calculating gaze. “The library is wonderful.” She waved her hand to indicate the carved shelves which held thousands of books. She noticed ancient manuscripts and parchment illustrations encased in glass. Also, statues, instruments, weapons, and artwork adorned the walls and tables—each containing a unique story. Comfortable-looking leather chairs and sofas were set on thick Persian rugs, begging for Shelby to curl up and lose herself in a book.

The man nodded. “Are you searching for anything in particular?”

“I was hoping to find some kind of history of Khali-dar book. In English. And maybe an Arabic-English dictionary.”

“I believe you should find what you are looking for on the shelf below the tapestry. All of the books in that section are written in English.” He pointed.

“Thanks.” Shelby found the shelf and selected a few books. Standing, she examined the elaborate tapestry. She couldn’t believe so much intricate detail could be achieved with pieces of thread. The piece was fascinating. She recognized several elements of the picture: a bird with a jeweled necklace and a lion. “There is a picture like this in my room,” she said. “What does it mean?”

He looked at the picture and then at Shelby. “It is a very famous story in our country told to every young child. You would call it a ‘fairytale’ or a ‘fable’ in English. Come, sit, and I will tell you the story the way my mother told it.” He indicated the chair across from him.

Shelby set the books in a pile on a low table and then slid into the chair.

He inhaled a deep breath and lowered his eyelids before he began. “Long ago, before the time of the great waters, while genii roamed the earth and magic still thrived, there lived a songbird. The songbird had one possession, a ruby which she treasured above anything under the heavens. The songbird wore her ruby on a small golden chain around her neck. She soared through the sky to watch how the sun shone on her cherished possession.

“The songbird was happy. And as songbirds will do, her joy was expressed in melody. Throughout the land, she was known for her exceptionally beautiful voice.

“One day, while traveling through that part of the country, a lion heard her and became enchanted. He searched until he found the bird who sang the loveliest song. From the moment they laid eyes on each other, the songbird and the lion were in love.”

Shelby leaned to the side pulling her feet onto the chair beneath her.

“Desiring his beloved for a wife, the lion resolved to live as a bird to be with her. He climbed into her tree and tried to survive on locusts and berries, but he was a lion and could no more live as a bird than he could fly.

“The lion invited the songbird to live with him. She came into the cave where the lions slept and tried to live as a lion. But she found her wings would get stepped on by the other lions, and she couldn’t survive on jackal meat. She was a songbird and could no more live as a lion than she could hunt.”

Shelby was entranced by the story. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat and listened to another person telling her a bedtime story. Surely not in the last twenty years. But under the circumstances it seemed completely natural. Perhaps it was a middle-eastern tradition.

“Determined to be with her true love, the songbird flew into the deepest canyon, farther down into the darkest cave where she finally found a genii and begged him to grant her wish.

“The genii regarded her for a long time with his evil blue eyes and said, ‘Anything in this world worth having requires sacrifice.’” He pointed a long, bony finger at the ruby glowing in the light of his magic as it hung around her neck.

“She knew the only way to be with her true love was to give up her cherished treasure. The songbird felt her heart sink but surrendered her ruby to the genii.

“A short time later, a golden lioness ran from the darkest cave and climbed out of the deepest canyon. She ran as fast as she could to find her beloved. As she approached the den, she became afraid—worried the lion would no longer love her now that she had changed. Instead of going into the den, she returned to sit in the shade of her tree. The lioness sang a sad song. She had lost her precious ruby, and now she was sure she would lose her true love.”

Shelby knew it was just a story, but her heart was heavy. She credited the strange librarian’s storytelling ability.

“Hearing her song, the lion ran to find her. When he saw a beautiful lioness singing with the voice of his songbird, he stopped. At once, he knew what she had done and loved her the more for it. For she was the same songbird. Her ruby was not her only treasure. She had her beautiful voice. And though her appearance had changed, she was still his true love. They were married, and Allah blessed them with happiness and peace.”

Shelby straightened. “What a beautiful story.”

“In Khali-dar, we believe sacrifice is always necessary. Often we must give up something we want now for something which will eventually be worth more.”

“It’s hard to know what’s worth sacrificing for.”

“We can find the answer in the principles governing our lives: duty, honor, bravery, honesty…”

“Love.” Shelby spoke in a wishful tone.

He studied her, tipping his head and squinting his eyes.

Had she said something wrong? “Like in the story.”

“Yes. There is also Love,” he answered. “However, Love is a principle which must sometimes be sacrificed for another.”