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this gift. Thank you, my friend.”
     
    Omar stepped forward without warning and threw his arms around me in a tight embrace. It was the most we had ever touched in the six months I had known him, and I wasn’t prepared for it. I wrapped my arms around him in return, relishing the feeling of his warmth against me.
     
    It was only when one of the guards at the door cleared his throat that we realized how long the embrace had gone on for. Omar stepped away from me sheepishly, redness tinting his sharp cheekbones. He ran a hand through his hair again and gestured towards the table with the other.
     
    He waved at me first, then at one of the attendants waiting patiently near the doors, just out of earshot. “Please, sit. Let’s get you breakfast, and then we’ll talk about what happens next.”

 
    SIX

A few days passed before Omar was able to find the time for us to take the next step in our adventure together. There seemed to be no end to his royal duties, and he had to deal with the fallout of his mother’s decree, both to the press and the subjects of his country. He hadn’t spoken with his brother since the disastrous birthday dinner, but all the darkness and anger of that night seemed to have faded completely from his mind. Despite dealing with the headache of the work, Omar was in great spirits.
     
    Knowing I had helped make him so happy only made me happier, even if that joy came with a lot of fear attached.
     
    It was late afternoon when Omar called me into the palace’s medical ward, where he had gathered the country’s top OB/GYN physicians for a consultation regarding the little bundle of royal joy we were trying to cook. Since I wasn’t Omar’s queen, the only option left to us was artificial insemination.
     
    Even as a doctor, I was a little nervous about the procedure. It wasn’t something I had ever imagined myself doing, and there was a type of coldness about it I didn’t appreciate. I knew that any number of complications and surprises could happen when doctors tried to replicate the natural reproductive system, but it was what Omar needed, and so I would do it for him.
     
    Being the patient was another thing I wasn’t used to. As if sensing my nervousness, Omar took my hand and helped me gently up onto the examination table. After a few words of encouragement, he politely left the room as one of the doctors sat down to examine me. Once I was dressed, Omar re-joined us so the doctors could explain what would happen next.
     
    “Dr. Green is in perfect reproductive health,” beamed Dr. Issa, a warm, middle-aged woman who was born and raised in Al-Thakri. Omar smiled at me as the doctor continued. “For your needs, we recommend the intrauterine insemination procedure. Assuming your blood tests and physical exams come back with good news, we will then do an analysis of His Highness’ sperm. If he is as healthy as you are, Dr. Green, we won’t need to worry about administering any fertility drugs to assist with the process. You are both at ripe reproductive age.”
     
    Omar and I exchanged a somewhat awkward but excited smile. I had the urge to reach over and grab his hand, but suppressed it. The need to try and make this more comfortable for us both was overwhelming.
     
    “I will need you to track your ovulation cycles,” the doctor said to me. “That way, we may be able to double the insemination procedure each cycle and hopefully get you pregnant much faster. One His Highness’ sample is processed, we will apply the sperm inside you using a catheter and syringe, before using a cervical cap to ensure it remains in place. Your Highness,” she continued, turning to Omar. “We recommend that you be here with Dr. Green during the procedure. She will need to be at her most relaxed, and your presence should help with that.”
     
    Omar looked to me, as if looking for confirmation of what the doctor was saying, and I smiled with a gentle nod.
     
    “That would be great,” I agreed.