The cool night wind was refreshing on her hot, flustered face as she stood near the stone railing, all but hiding behind a pot of trailing jasmine while she blotted uselessly at the wet dark streak on her dress. She sniffled, struggling to avoid tears that would only further ruin her makeup. She didn’t need to make things any worse.

Vanessa gave up trying to dry herself, leaning against the balcony instead as she tried to calm down from the humiliation. It would all be worth it when she found Amanirenas. Peterson could have his fancy expedition funded by the Sheikh. She really would go out there by herself with a shovel if she had to.

She heard a step on the stone and looked up, eyes widening in surprise as she saw Sheikh Ramin standing in the archway.

“Oh.” Startled, she backed away towards the arch on the opposite end of the balcony. “I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

“Wait,” he called out to her, taking a cautious step closer, as though she were a timid animal he was afraid to frighten away. “I came out here following you, actually. I saw what happened. Towel?”

He offered her a small towel with a sympathetic expression. Vanessa, face red with embarrassment, meekly accepted.

“I’m so sorry about all that,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper as she pressed the towel to her dress. “It was my own fault for goading them in a place like this.”

“May I ask what the argument was about?” Ramin took the towel from her and began to dry her gown himself. If Vanessa hadn’t been so mortified, she might have been touched.

“Ah, it’s silly,” she said with a sigh. “Interdepartmental rivalry. I’m an archaeologist.”

“Really?” He looked interested at once, eyes lighting up. They were a deep, warm brown that seemed almost flecked with gold. “What’s your specialty?”

“Egyptology, technically,” Vanessa explained. “But my focus is on the ancient Nubian kingdoms, particularly Kush.”

“Fascinating,” Ramin said, and Vanessa could tell he meant it. “I’ve only met one other person with that focus. He’s actually here tonight.”

“Professor Van Rees,” Vanessa confirmed, unable to help smiling. His excitement was infectious. “He’s my mentor.”

“A wonderful gentleman,” Ramin complimented, smile broadening in a way that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “A brilliant scholar, although his choice of friends can be a bit questionable. I hope his choice in protégés is more sound?”

“So do I,” Vanessa said with a small laugh. “I’m Vanessa. Vanessa Hawkins.”

She offered her hand to shake and he accepted, bending over it to kiss the back of her fingers elegantly.

“Sheikh Ramin Al-Zand,” he said, looking up at her in a way that made her heart flutter. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s an honor,” she said, swallowing a sudden nervous lump in her throat.

“You know,” he said. “I could see about replacing your dress if you like.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened at the idea.

“No, thank you,” she replied at once. “I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t. I only came to visit with the professor, anyway. And since I seem to have lost him and made a fool of myself, I should probably just go anyway.”

“Please, I insist,” he said, still holding her hand. “It’s no trouble. And I would hate for you to leave early.”

She smiled, a mix of flattered and embarrassed, and reluctantly agreed.

He swept her away, up a back staircase to the upper floors of the palace where many finely furnished bedrooms and suites sat unoccupied.

“My family has been using this place as a townhouse for years,” he explained as he sorted through a closet in one of the rooms. “During the winter, my father needed to be in the capital for work and my mother to attend important parties. So, my sisters and I would live here until the summer when we would return to the family palace or any of our various summer homes. But now, my sisters are married, and my mother prefers to stay in the country, and my father hardly needs so much space, which is why I am turning it into a museum. But many of our old things are still here, and unless I am mistaken, my sister Fara is just your size. Ah, here we are.”

He pulled a dress bag from the depths of the closet, the dark blue canvas obscuring the gown within. He unzipped it a fraction to check what was within, then nodded in satisfaction.

“This is the one,” he said, pushing it into her hands. “Please, try it on for me.”

A little overwhelmed, Vanessa took the dress bag to a corner of the room sheltered by dressing screens and stripped off her ruined cape dress. Then, she unzipped the dress bag and felt her breath catch.

The gown inside was unbelievably beautiful. It was soft, gauzy blue chiffon, laced with an intricate web of embroidered detail picked out in silver and crystal and pearl. She couldn’t begin to imagine how expensive it was. Just the thought of wearing it made her feel dizzy. But the idea of refusing the Sheikh after his kind gesture was even more unthinkable.

With painstaking care, she put the dress on, terrified of accidentally ripping off one of those crystals with a clumsy gesture. Once she’d carefully zipped herself in, she stepped out from behind the screen slowly.

“Is it all right?” she asked with a frown as Ramin turned to look at her. “I’ve never worn anything this beautiful in my life. I must look like a pig in pearls.”

“You look magnificent,” Ramin said without hesitation, his smile making her heart race again. “You would think it was made for you.”

He offered her his arm and she took it somewhat shyly. He led her back towards the party, and Vanessa, standing beside him this way, remembered the woman he’d entered the party with.

“What happened to the other woman you were with?” she asked, curious.

Ramin frowned, the first time she’d seen him look unhappy tonight.

“She went home early,” he said. “We had a small disagreement. She made a joke that, rather than turning this place into a museum, I should just give it to her. I hear these kinds of jokes often. I do not think they are funny.”

Sensing that it was an awkward topic, Vanessa hurried to change it.

“So, you’re interested in archaeology?” she asked. “The professor mentioned that you’re very involved in historical projects in this area.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed, cheering up at once. “In my culture, it is considered respectful to learn the family histories of those you do business with. And so, I was always thought to be a very polite boy, because learning the history of my people and my country always fascinated me. I learned all the major family histories, but then I kept going, back to before our nation was even formed. The history of this part of the world, its cultures and stories, are richer and more incredible than anywhere else in the world, in my opinion.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Vanessa said with a smile. “I’ve been obsessed with Egypt since I was a child. And, as I grew older and learned about all the other cultures that surrounded ancient Egypt—well, it became a lifelong addiction! There’s really never been anything else in my life.”

“What attracted you specifically to Ksatta-Galan?” he asked as they snuck back into the party.

“Oh, Amanirenas,” Vanessa said at once. “Do you know of her?”

He shook his head, clearly intrigued.

“Warrior queen of the Kush,” Vanessa said with a grin, delighted for the chance to tell the story. “The Meroitic Kingdom of Kush was a strong competitor with Egypt for most of its existence, but it couldn’t stand up to Rome. After Augustus defeated Mark Antony, Rome turned its attention south with the goal of pushing into Africa. But they would never get past Kush.”

“Thanks to Amanirenas, I’m guessing?” Ramin said with a grin.

“Exactly.” Vanessa was always thrilled for a chance to tell Amanirenas’s story. They found a couch in a sheltered alcove and sat as Vanessa continued. “Amanirenas and her husband Teriteqas knew Rome was coming, so while the Roman forces were occupied in Arabia, they made a preemptive strike.”

“A bold move,” Ramin said, raising an eyebrow. “They must have known it was doomed.”

“You would think.” Vanessa laughed. “But they were shockingly successful, sacking Aswan, Elephant Island, and beheading statues of Augustus in Philae. They carried the heads back with them and Amanirenas buried one under the doorway of her palace.”

“I’m guessing the Romans weren’t pleased with this,” Ramin wagered, leaning on the back of the couch as he watched her, clearly amused by the animated excitement with which she told the story.

“Oh, definitely not.” Vanessa chuckled. “The Romans struck back with a force of ten thousand men, in the process killing Teriteqas and taking one of Amanirenas’s eyes.”

Ramin’s eyes widened. “But that’s not the end of the story?”

“No, only the beginning,” Vanessa said. “Amanirenas, grieving and injured, took her husband’s place as Qore, king, as well as Kandake, queen mother. From then on, she fought beside her son, Akinidad. But the Romans were relentless. They destroyed the Kushite capital and kept pushing. The Kushite began to seek terms for peace.”

“I’m assuming the Romans didn’t accept?” Ramin asked, intrigued.

“They didn’t get the chance,” Vanessa said, shaking her head. “While terms were still being discussed, the Romans pushed the Kushite back to Dakka, and Akinidad was wounded and died. Then, to add insult to injury, they took Qasr, the town of which Akinidad had been chief, defaced the monument to his death, and established a garrison in its place. Amanirenas withdrew from the peace talks.”

“I can imagine,” Ramin said with a frown. “It seems like the war took everything from her.”

“But it never broke her,” Vanessa said. “She rallied her armies and descended on the Romans like a biblical plague. Some accounts say she rode elephants and fed her enemies to lions. She was ruthless and vengeful, with nothing left to lose. She pushed the Romans back all the way past Qasr and beyond. And when she was on their doorstep, knowing they feared her, she sent men to Augustus himself to talk peace again, this time with new terms.

“The Romans abandoned and evacuated the lands surrounding Egypt and the Kushite were exempt from paying any tribute to the Emperor. Amanirenas ruled for the rest of her life, and the peace she brokered remained until the end of the Meroitic Empire.”

“A very impressive woman,” Ramin said, smiling. “And quite a story. I can see why it captured your interest.”

“There’s only one problem with it,” Vanessa said. “The Meroitic language has never been deciphered, and Amanirenas and Teriteqas’s tombs have never been found. The only side of the story we have is that told by Roman historians. We may never know Amanirenas’s story in her own words unless that changes.”

“I have a feeling you want to be the one to change that,” Ramin guessed.

Vanessa chuckled, embarrassed.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked. “But I could talk about the Kandake all day. What story was it that captured you?”

“You will think it’s silly,” Ramin said, looking away, though he was smiling.

“Of course I won’t,” Vanessa insisted. “You just listened to me gush about ancient Nubia for ages. What could be sillier?”

“It was a fairy tale,” Ramin confessed. “A bedtime story my mother read to me when I was a small child. The Adventures of Prince Ahmed. Except, when my mother told it, she replaced the prince with an ancestor of our family, and so I was quite certain everything that happened in the story was true, and that I was descended from the prince. And so, I first began looking into our history searching for the prince and evidence of his story. But I soon realized I was just as enraptured by the real history as by the fairy tale.”

“I’ve always loved fairy tales,” Vanessa said, leaning closer to him in interest. “I would love to hear yours.”

“Well, first there were three brothers,” Ramin began, clearly pleased by the opportunity. “Princes, all in love with the same princess…”