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lingering in the air implied she’d come to Tahira’s room for the same reason he had.
    To drink.
    On any other day, he would have been livid, demanding an explanation for her wholly unacceptable behavior. But today all his fury was used up in response to the betrayal dealt him by his betrothed.
    “She’s not here,” Aaliyah said, her words drawled out carefully.
    “I am aware.”
    Aaliyah blinked at him owlishly. “You’re probably wondering why I am.”
    “It would appear you needed a drink and a private place to have it.”
    Her expression went slack. “How did you know?”
    He shrugged.
    “Have you been speaking to my father?” She leaned forward, her expression turning nothing short of surly.
    The woman had to be inebriated already if she thought the emir of Zeena Sahra had taken it upon himself to converse with her parent. “If I have seen Mr. Amari, I am unaware of that fact.”
    Her lush lips parted, but the only sound that came out was a cross between a sigh and a hiccup.
    He almost laughed. “You are drunk.”
    “I don’t think so.” Her lovely arched brows drew together in an adorable expression of thought. “I’ve only had three glasses. Is that enough to get drunk?”
    “You’ve had three glasses?” he asked, shocked anew.
    “Not full. I know how to pour a drink, even if I don’t usually imbibe. I only poured to here.” She indicated a level that would be the equivalent to a double.
    “You’ve had six shots of whiskey.”
    “Oh.” She frowned. “Is that bad?”
    “It depends.”
    “On?”
    “Why you’re drinking.”
    “I learned someone I thought would never lie to me had done it my whole life, that I believed things that were no more than a fairy tale.”
    That sounded all too familiar. “I am sorry to hear that.”
    It was her turn to shrug, but in doing so she nearly dropped her mostly empty glass. “She said my father wasn’t a bad man.”
    “She?” he heard himself prompting.
    “My mom.”
    “You didn’t know your father?” His life had not been the easy endeavor so many assumed of a man born to royalty, but he’d had his father.
    A good man, Falah al Zeena might be melech to his people, but for Sayed, the older man wasn’t just his king. He was and had always been Sayed’s loving father—papa to a small boy and his closest confidant now.
    “Not until recently.” Aaliyah’s bow-shaped lips turned down. “I think Mom was wrong.”
    “He is a bad man?” Sayed asked, the surreal conversation seeming to fit with the unbelievable day he’d already had.
    Aaliyah sighed, the sound somehow endearing. “Not really, but he’s not very nice.”
    “I think many might say the same about me.”
    “Probably.”
    He laughed. “You are supposed to disagree. Do you not realize that?”
    “Oh, why? I think’s it’s the truth. You’re too arrogant and imperious to be considered nice .”
    “I am emir.”
    “Exactly.”
    “You do not think a ruler can be kind?”
    “Kind isn’t the same as nice and you’re not ruler yet, are you?”
    “As emir I have many ruling responsibilities.” Which were supposed to increase tenfold when he became melech after his wedding to Tahira.
    A wedding that wasn’t going to take place now, not after she’d eloped with a man a year her junior and significant levels beneath her in status.
    “Okay.”
    “Okay what?”
    “I’m not sure.” She looked at him like he was supposed to explain the conversation to her.
    “You’re smashed.”
    “And you want to be.”
    “You’re guessing.”
    “My brain may be fuzzy, but it’s still working.”
    “Yes?”
    “You guessed I wanted a private place to drink because you do, too.”
    “That’s succinct reasoning for a woman who probably couldn’t walk a straight line.”
    “I’d prefer not to try walking at all right now, thanks.” She waved a surprisingly elegant hand.
    “I’ll get my own drink, then.”
    She made a sound like a snort, putting a serious dent in any