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The concubine bit her lip ‘My lady, I doubt the Sultan,Prince Ghalib’s harem’

Alba held the girl’s gaze ‘I shall say nothing of co here’

Her uncle’s concubine let out a treh ‘Thank you, my lady’

The baby had stopped crying, her eyes were fastened on Alba’s lantern Gently setting it on a ledge, Alba held out her hands

‘May I hold her?’

The girl hesitated and sood, I don’t knohat has got into her this ’

A warm bundle was thrust into Alba’s arms and she was transfixed by a painful eave her a sense of belonging Of completion

‘Yamina is a lovely name’

Alba could feel Ya into her heart Indeed, it see her in ways that the summer sun could never war, she supposed Such joy Yamina was a sweetheart Alba’s unconfessedA baby This asfrom her life A baby For months Alba had felt restless and ill at ease, now she knehy Deprived of love herself, she yearned for someone to love She yearned for a baby

Eyesat the softness of her skin Ya inside, Alba sed down a lump in her throat ‘My cousin,’ she murmured

Dark eyes watched her ‘My lady, her life will be very different to yours You are a princess My daughter will be fortunate if she can reirl’

‘Oh?’