“I’ve never married, Highness. It’s kind of you to ask.” The nurse adjusted the seating of an intravenous needle. “Rest now, Highness. I’ll be right here in case you need anything. And the doctors will be checking on you. My name is Rabia, by the way.”

Amira was floating out on a tranquil lake. The thought that Philippe would be there soon drifted by like a cloud in the sky. “Can you bring me a mirror?” she heard herself ask.

“A mirror? I—I’m afraid we don’t have one, Highness. Maybe I can find one for you later. Rest now.”

“Yes … Philippe.”

He was standing behind Dr. Konyali, concern in every line of his face. Dr. Konyali cleared his throat. “I’d forgotten you knew Dr. Rochon, Highness.” The little courtier would not have forgotten such a thing. He was merely glossing over Amira’s impropriety in addressing a man so informally.

She could not have cared less. The gaze of her one good eye had not left Philippe. She had never seen him in his medical garb. It made him look more boyish. Yet at the same time, he seemed older, frailer.

“Are you well, Philippe? What brings you here?”

His eyes crinkled in a smile. “Am I well? Who’s the patient here? How do you feel?”

She tried a smile herself. It hurt. “Never better.”

“You didn’t tell me this patient was suffering from a sense of humor, doctor,” said Philippe, glancing over Konyali’s shoulder at Amira’s chart. “As for what brings me here, His Majesty had a rather acute episode of his chronic trouble.

He asked me to fly down. When I arrived, he had learned of your accident and sent me directly to assist Dr. Konyali.”

The Turk fairly preened at the flattery, but Amira had caught Philippe’s slight emphasis on the word accident and his glance at her when he said it. A single thought cut through the fog of pain and medication: He knows!

“We don’t want to disturb your rest, Highness,” said Konyali. “It’s what you need most just now.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I gather that Rabia has told you about the various … procedures we performed.” “Yes.”

“It was absolutely necessary, Highness, I’m sorry to say.” “Not your fault. God’s will.”

Konyali inclined his head to acknowledge the profound truth in her remark. “Your husband is waiting to see you, Highness. I’ve told him that we can allow him only a few minutes.”

Did her fear show? Philippe was studying her intently. Yes, he knew. “I hope you won’t mind if I look in on your patient now and then, Dr. Konyali,” he said. “By all means, doctor. After all, she’s your patient as much as mine.” Philippe winked at her. “I’ll be nearby, Highness. Nurse Rabia can find me any time.”