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CHAPTER ONE

DR NIKHAT ZAKHARI followed the uniforh the carpeted corridor of the Dahaaran palace, assaulted froo she had known every inch of these corridors and halls, every wall and arch This palace, the royal family, they had all been part of a dreairl of twenty-two

Before it had co down upon her and shattered her

She stepped over the threshold into the office and the guard closed the door behind her The formal pumps she had chosen instead of her usual Crocs sank into the lush carpet with a sigh

She had been in this office one night when the Crown Prince had been thein like thieves in the night

All because she had voiced a juvenile wish to see it Her long-sleeved thick silk jacket couldn’t dispel the chill that settled on her skin at the memory

Drawn to the huge portrait of the royal faia

King Malik and Queen Fatima, Ayaan and A in the picture except Azeez Because of what Nikhat had told hio

A cavern of longing opened up inside of her Even thousands of miles away, she had felt as if she had lost her own family when she heard of the attack Her throat ached, her vision felt dizzy She ran treers over Azeez’s face in the photo

She leaned her head against the wall Seeing this fa the very foundations of the life she had resolutely built for herself

And she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—give thatshe had accomplished

“How have you been, Nikhat?”

She turned around and stared at the nen Prince, Ayaan bin Riyaaz Al-Sharif, the boy she had once tutored in cheaze shone armth The cut of his features, so similar to Azeez’s, knocked the breath out of her

She had gone into shock the day she had heard of the terrorist attack To see Ayaan again, so many years later filled her with a joy she couldn’t contain Nikhat reached hied him