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Mindful of the need for discretion, Alba tugged her veil tightly about her face Sultan Tariq insisted that the Princesses wore veils, even alking here in the palace grounds Any limpse of her face would be severely disciplined Alba wasn’t sure what forh to know that her father ruled with an iron hand She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if a guard suffered on her account

God ith her, she saw no guards

Several buildings were clustered behind a screen of myrtle bushes, the thread of sound caht revealed a line of ith arches shaped like horseshoes and a large door heavily decorated with ironwork The door opened snant wail echoed across the marble floor

Exciteh her veins, Alba hurried towards a curtained door arch

Since her father the Sultan only had three children, this building had to be part of Prince Ghalib’s hareer than the Sultan and to say that he must find life difficult was an understatement

Prince Ghalib was her father’s designated successor, he was an heir locked in a gilded cage Like Alba and her sisters, her uncle wasn’t allowed his freedom Alba understood why Insurrections were co and bloody history of the Nasrid dynasty Brother would kill brother and seize power Doubtless, Sultan Tariq feared Prince Ghalib e a coup and overthrow him

Determined to escape such a fate, Sultan Tariq had kept his brother out of the way at Salobreña Castle for years The three Princesses had lived there too

During that tiry Prince Ghalib had many faces Underneath them all lay a dark and bitter frustration Alba sympathised, for she’d heard that the Sultan had made his brother promise after promise

‘I’ll give you a castle, dear brother, never fear,’ the Sultan had vowed Or, ‘I’ll put you at the head of an army’

Her father had broken every promise While the Sultan lived, Prince Ghalib would never be free, he was too much of a threat It didn’t help that, unlike the Sultan, Prince Ghalib had fathered many children

Prince Ghalib had been brought from Salobreña Castle to the Alhambra Palace at the same time as his nieces and, like the Princesses, he continued to be granted every luxury Except his freedom

Alba reached the curtained archway as the baby paused to draw breath A woed Alba back to when she herself was little more than an infant A sharp pain pierced her, like a lance to her heart Mamá! Her mother, the Queen, had spoken to her in just such a voice That was the voice of love, it was the most beautiful sound in creation and she’d not heard it in an age

Curtain rings clinked as Alba pushed inside If the baby was Prince Ghalib’s, it would be her cousin