“Come with me, Highness. The car is just over there.” It was Jabr, the driver. “There were rumors among the drivers,” Jabr told her. “I came early in case something happened.” “Thank you.”

The big man shook his head angrily. “I love God as much as any man,” he declared. “But these religious police—what do they have to do with God? Forgive me, Highness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jabr. Thank you again.”

The house was quiet, only a single servant there to greet her. Princess Zeinab was upstairs asleep, the girl explained. Everyone else was still at the festivities.

“And Dr. Rochon?” said Amira. “Is he at the festivities, as well?” Only at that moment had she remembered Philippe’s promise to meet her in the garden.

“I don’t know, Highness. I haven’t seen him.”

“Go draw me a bath—make sure that it’s hot—and lay out my night- clothes. Then make some tea.”

“Yes, Highness.”

As soon as the girl was gone, Amira slipped out into the garden. No one was there, only the cold moon close overhead, the details of its rocky face etched as if in crystal. Amira shivered, wondering how long she dared to wait. “Cinderella,” said a voice from the shadows, “home from the ball?”

“Philippe! You nearly frightened me to death.”

“Shh. Just stay where you are and act as if I’m not here. We’ll talk very quietly.”

“All right.”

“Amira, I believe that your life is in danger and that you must get away from Ali. Yet, I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I have a plan, but it’s a drastic one. Surely, there must be a better way. Let me ask you this: What if I were to talk with the king, explain matters. Wouldn’t he grant you a divorce?” “He might. But he would never give up his grandson. Karim would be Ali’s. And I cannot allow that.”

“And you’re certain that if you just walked away—took Karim and went to France, for example—Ali would pursue you.”

“Yes. He’d take Karim and kill me, as well, if it were necessary. Which it would be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then I can see only two possible solutions. One is to kill Ali. I can’t do that, and I don’t think you can, either.”

“No.”

“Then the only alternative is to kill you and Karim.” “What?”

“You wouldn’t be dead, of course, but suppose that the whole world— Ali included—thought you were. Suppose that you and Karim could start a totally new life somewhere—America, for example. Would you do it?” “I—I don’t know. It’s too hard a question.”

“You needn’t answer it now. But soon.”

To leave everything she knew behind: friends, father, homeland, every- thing. “Would Malik know the truth?” she asked.