“I also need to know what our engagement will look like.” Her cheeks turned pink. Faidh had never wanted to touch someone’s face more in his life. “Obviously we’ll need to make a—a show of things.”

  “A show. That’s all. I’ll take you on dates and to official functions so that you can be seen at my side.”

  “And what will we do when we’re in public? Will we act like we’re in love?”

  He put on his most reassuring smile. “We’ll keep PDA to a minimum. I’m a sheikh, and I’m expected to behave a certain way in public. I’ll keep my hands to myself. On my honor.”

  Mina nodded. Did he imagine the hint of disappointment on her face?

  At that moment, the door to the dining room side of the pantry swung open, and a council member walked in. He took three steps into the pantry and stopped dead. Faidh bit back a curse. The kitchen staff kept the pantry stocked so that palace officials could grab a quick coffee or snack without having to come into the kitchens themselves. There was a whole table off to the side dedicated to the purpose. Mina leaned back, as if she could put enough space between them not to have been caught in the pantry with the sheikh.

  The council member, a man named Adil, stayed frozen in place. Faidh’s heart beat once, then twice. The man had probably come for coffee, and now he’d discovered the sheikh standing close to one of the kitchen staff in the butler’s pantry.

  He’d have to take control of the moment. Now, before it got away from him.

  Before Mina could protest, before she could speak a single word. “Councilman Adil,” he said, wearing a smile that he hoped communicated how absolutely at ease he was in this situation. “You’ve come at the perfect time. Meet my fiancée, Mina Parks.”

  Adil blinked, shaking his head. “Sheikh Faidh. I—” He shook his head again as if he could clear the sight from his mind. As if it was so out of the ordinary for the sheikh to be standing here in the butler’s pantry that it verged on some kind of waking dream. If Adil thought that, then the man had a point. It was strange for Faidh to be in here. “Good afternoon.” His eyes widened, going between Faidh and Mina one more time. Adil leaned in and lowered his voice. “Is this a joke?”

  Faidh laughed a little, all charm and teeth. “No. Not a joke at all.”

  The councilman started, but then he seemed to gather himself. “Congratulations.” He gave a quick bow, turned around, and fled the pantry.

  Faidh’s heart raced. He covered it with a smirk and met Mina’s eyes. “He’ll be telling the other council members right about now.”

  All the color had slowly drained out of her cheeks. Mina straightened her shoulders and took a few deep breaths. When she met his eyes again, she seemed steadier. Recovering from unexpected situations was a good quality in a woman who would be engaged to the sheikh. Fake engaged to the sheikh, Faidh reminded himself. No part of this would be real.

  Mina folded her hands in front of her. “What am I meant to do now?”

  “We’ll eat dinner together later.” Decision made. He wouldn’t make her guess. Faidh was used to being in control of his schedule and his surroundings. It irritated him slightly that Adil had barged in at the wrong moment, but then, a sheikh had to be able to adapt quickly to changing circumstances. This, he could tell, would involve a lot of changing circumstances. Announcing it to Adil was only the beginning. “I’ll send for you with plenty of time to prepare.”

  Her eyebrows went up.

  “Just dinner in the palace,” he said, meeting her worry with seriousness. “Thank you, Mina. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  That was probably true for both of them. She was getting quite a bit out of this arrangement. He’d planned it that way.

  “Thank you,” she said, color skimming across her cheek. Faidh reached for her hand, took it in his, and brushed his lips over her knuckles, bowing a little as he did so. It was a courtly move, one he’d learned years ago while he was being raised to take over the sheikhdom, and Mina responded with a soft exhale and a nod. “I have to get back to my dough, Sheikh Faidh. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Good day, Mina.”

  She went back into the kitchens with her head held high, and Faidh went out via the dining room. He hardly saw the hallways on the way back to his office. None of the faces he greeted made any impression. All he could think about was Mina’s dark eyes on his and how badly he wanted to see her hair free of that chef’s hat.

  Tonight. She wouldn’t be wearing the hat to dinner.

  Faidh settled into the chair behind his desk and called for his secretary. He didn’t have long to work before he’d be pulled into an “impromptu” council meeting, but he could answer some messages. Sign some documents. The sort of minutia of running the country that his sister reveled in, and he completed out of a sense of duty. Today, though, a new hope had come to life in his heart. If everything proceeded according to plan, Meher could be the sheikha in no time, and he would be free.

  The request from the council came in less than two hours later. Faidh laughed when his secretary poked her head in the door to tell him. “Of course, of course,” he said. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  She moved to go out, then leaned back in. “In the formal council chamber, Sheikh Faidh.”

  Well. That was different. Most council meetings were conducted in a more casual meeting room down the hall from Faidh’s office, but the formal council chamber gave the meeting more weight.

  Faidh signed the last of the documents that had come across his desk and shrugged on his jacket. It was time to let the council in on his engagement.

  His body resisted going to the meeting, and Faidh found himself walking slower and slower as he approached the formal council chamber. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the men on the council—no. They were councilmen, and he was the sheikh. But the laws intertwined their power, and Faidh had to tread carefully if he wanted to leave his position as sheikh behind without harsh consequences.

  “Good afternoon,” he said as he entered the room. The men on the council hurried to stand, but Faidh waved them down. He took the chair at the head of the table.

  One of the elders leaned in and spoke first, trying his best to pretend he was not in a hurry to get answers. “We’ve heard that you’ve entered into an engagement, Sheikh Faidh.”

  “I have.” Faidh kept the smile on his face. He kept his body relaxed. If this were a real engagement, he’d be thrilled. Part of him was thrilled, in fact, that Mina had said yes to him, but that particular emotion wasn’t relevant to this discussion. “Mina Parks.”

  The council members exchanged pointed glances.

  “Sheikh Faidh, with the greatest respect,” a man named Haidar began, “we have never met Ms. Parks. You are normally not shy about the women you date, so why have you been hiding this one?”

  Faidh arranged his expression into one that he hoped resembled a rueful contrition. “Mainly because of her position in the palace. She is Chef Alma’s apprentice. We did not want to cause a stir in the palace unless it became serious.” He spread his hands on the table. “Now that it is, I don’t want to hide anything from my esteemed council. Though I will have to ask for your assistance in keeping Mina’s name out of the press.”

  “Why?” Adil asked. He looked the least shocked of everyone, as if the news had settled in and he’d already become numb to it. The councilman cleared his throat. “Why would that be necessary, Sheikh Faidh?”

  “Because Mina is Abbas Hamid’s daughter.”

  There was a moment of shocked silence, and then all the councilmen started yelling at once. Faidh swallowed a laugh. It was going to be too easy.

  “It can’t be true,” one said, low and urgent. “We are used to stunts from you. How do we know this isn’t another one of your games?”

  “A grown man can change,” Faidh quipped.

  The shouting subsided, but when Faidh looked around the table, all he saw were set jaws and narrowed eyes. They didn’t like this. Not at all. And now that he’d put this information on the table between them, he was all in. He couldn’t go back now and let them win.

  They wouldn’t have another victory over him.

  3

  The rest of the morning dragged until Mina’s lunch break, then she hurried back to her small room in the staff quarters at top speed. She needed her laptop. She needed to tell her mother and father what had happened. The arrangement she had with Faidh would change her father’s life, but they absolutely could not find out about it on the internet or the news. Yes, yes, Faidh had promised her that he’d keep it out of the press. But even the sheikh of Nouzar couldn’t necessarily keep every person in the palace completely under his thumb.

  Back in her room, Mina sat on the bed and flipped open her laptop, pulse fluttering. She sent the video call invitation to her parents with trembling fingers. Deep breaths. She didn’t allow herself to have shaking, unreliable hands in the kitchen, and she wouldn’t now.

  Within five minutes, her parents appeared on the screen. They blinked in the light of their home computer, and Mina checked the time with a surge of guilt. They were eight hours behind her—it was still the middle of the night.

  “I’m so sorry, Mama. Papa. I didn’t realize the time. I can call back—”

  “Nonsense.” Her father, rumpled as he was, waved her off. “We keep the sound turned up just so we don’t miss a call from you. What’s wrong, Mina? What do you need?”

  The concern on both their sleep-pink faces was both endearing and slightly annoying. Though, if she thought about it, Mina had no right to be annoyed. She was the one who had insisted on going to Nouzar, and she was the one who had frantically called them in the middle of the night.

  “I met Sheikh Faidh this morning. He sought me out in the kitchens.” Both of her parents tensed. Any sense of tiredness fled from her father’s eyes. Her mother glanced at him, then peered resolutely back at the screen. Well, out with it. “The sheikh wants me to pretend to be his fiancée in order to be able to leave his role as sheikh.”

  “Leave his role as sheikh?” Her mother sounded incredulous. “Why would he want to do that?”

  “I’m—I’m not sure. He wants to do something else. He thinks another person would be better for the job.” Mina had understood it when Faidh told her the first time, but now, in her room, it sounded far less certain. “The important thing is that in return for my help, he’s going to issue a full pardon for you, Papa.” She put a big smile on her face. It should be an amazing opportunity. Her father had always wanted to show Mina’s mother his home country. He had never been able to.

  The silence stretched on for another few moments, and then both her parents were talking, their voices rising, competing with one another.

  “—immediately,” her father was saying. “You need to come home immediately.”

  Tears leaked from the corners of her mother’s eyes. “This is a mistake, Mina. A terrible mistake. This will ruin everything.”

  It was like the baking competition all over again. When Mina had been in middle school, she’d entered a baking contest sponsored by the school. Her parents had forbidden her from doing it, refusing to sign the permission form. She had forged her mother’s signature, gotten on the bus to the competition, and won.

  It had not gone over well. The local news had sent a crew to cover the competition, and Mina gave an interview. Her appearance on television opened them all up to harassment because of her father’s past. Ever since then, she’d kept her dreams of recognition to herself. Tried to sweep them under the rug. How much longer could she be expected to do it?

  “Stop, stop.” She tried to wave them down. “I’ve asked him to keep our names private.”

  It was like she hadn’t spoken.

  “Come home on the next flight, Mina,” her father ordered. “The very next flight out of Nouzar.”

  Mina squared her shoulders and waited for him to stop. “No, Papa. I’m doing the right thing. I know what I’m doing. I’m sorry for waking you both up in the middle of the night. I love you both.” She blew them a kiss and ended the call before they could argue any more.

  That had gone about as well as she’d expected. Mina set her laptop aside and flopped back on the bed. She hadn’t expected them to be happy about the news, but now her stomach was twisted into knots. Fighting with her parents was her least favorite thing to do. It always made her feel like she was in the wrong, even when she wasn’t.

  She gave herself another minute on the bed, then sat up.

  There was still plenty to be done in the kitchen, and if there was one thing Mina could rely on, it was that baking would soothe her mind. She could lose herself in the kneading and the stretching and the feel of the dough in her hands. The rhythm of rolling and folding and letting it rest. Mina made her way back toward the kitchens, her body relaxing a bit more with every step. Soon she would have her hands in dough and the conversation with her parents would fade from her mind. There would be a brief break before she had to get ready for dinner with Sheikh Faidh. Her heart picked up a bit at the thought of it, but she took a deep breath and let her nervousness go.

  Mina pushed open the door to the kitchen and stepped inside, glad to be in a familiar place.

  A hush fell instantly.

  The kitchens were rarely still. Rarely quiet. There was always banging and cutting and talking going on. But now the entire room fell into silence. Mina took one step in, then the next, and then she found herself hurrying. They were all staring. At her. No one had ever paid her much attention before, but now she wanted to break into a run just to get away from all their eyes.

  She swung herself into the secondary kitchen, breathing hard, to find Alma inspecting the phyllo dough on the prep table. Mina had tipped it into the fridge as she left for her lunch break, but now Alma had it out on the table. It was a relief to see she looked pleased. Mina had arrived in Nouzar with a sense of confidence, but her first days in the palace kitchens had humbled her. The stakes were higher here than they were in the States. Her pastries would be noticed by the royal family.

  Little had she known she would be noticed by the royal family. Heat painted her cheeks at the memory of Faidh striding into the pastry kitchen as if he’d been there a thousand times before. He had, of course. He’d grown up in the palace. Mina took another deep breath. She was here to focus on work, not on Faidh. Not on her new fake engagement.

  The head pastry chef looked over her glasses at Mina, a speculative glint in her eyes. A beat passed, and then Alma straightened up. “Start putting together the baklava for later, Mina. We’ll start there.”

  Mina rushed for the fridge. She had never been more grateful for a distraction in her life.

  When the council meeting was over, Faidh had ordered lunch and had it sent to Meher’s office. He met her there as one of the staff was exiting.

  “Your lunch is inside, Sheikh Faidh,” the man said, bowing a little.

  “My thanks,” Faidh said with a smile. He kept that smile on as he went in to find Meher sitting at her desk, scanning through a stack of paperwork. Likely budgetary paperwork, if he knew Meher, which he did. “Good afternoon,” he said, the formal greeting a joke between them.

  Meher slapped her hand down on the paperwork. “What on earth are you thinking, Faidh?”

  “How do you know already?” He dropped into a chair across from her and reached for one of the covered plates. He pulled it toward him and lifted the top to find piping hot sandwiches made with spiced chickpeas and tomatoes, eggplant, onion, and a special sauce the palace chef was known for, all stuffed into fresh pita. He took a bite and found Meher glaring at him. “What?” He shrugged a shoulder. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

  His sister rolled her eyes. “You should know just how fast palace gossip travels. Now, tell me what in god’s name you were thinking.”

  “I was thinking that you’ve always been more suited to being sheikha than I’ve been suited to being sheikh. You have the mind for it and the will for it, and you’re the best at what you do. We both know I can’t abdicate if I want to stay in Nouzar, so they need to declare me unfit to rule. They’ll do it if the bride I’ve chosen isn’t acceptable to them. And I’m about to turn thirty. I want neither a marriage nor a throne, and if I don’t get this resolved before my birthday, I’ll have both.”

  Meher stared at him across her desk. She hadn’t so much as reached for her lunch.

  “What?” Faidh ate more of his sandwich. “I’m turning thirty too soon to leave it to chance. If I wait too long, they’ll choose an acceptable bride, and then there’s no way out.”

  She leaned back in her chair, considering him as if he were a new budget proposal. “This is completely ridiculous. You’re not serious. This is a joke, and it’s a terrible plan.”

  Faidh blinked. He and Meher almost never disagreed, and he felt off-balance at her blunt admission that she didn’t approve. How did she not see what a brilliant plan it was? It solved all their problems at once.

  “Our father exiled Mina Parks’s father. And yes, we know that Abbas Hamid didn’t act on his own. We know our father scapegoated him in order to distance himself from the discovery, but what if this is a ploy? What if Mina is here to enact some kind of revenge in her father’s name?”

  “You’ve watched one too many thriller movies, Meher. If Mina wanted to exact revenge, she’d have tried to seduce me as soon as she arrived or poisoned our breakfasts. She didn’t do that. She’s practically been hiding from me to avoid being found out.”

  “Fine.” Meher frowned. “I concede those things. But I don’t like this plan. It’s too much. There are too many ways it could go wrong.”