“Do you think she’ll like it?” Alex asked breathlessly as she painted a black stripe across the back of the wooden zebra cutout in front of her.

“She’ll love it,” Zaiman said with a confident grin. “But keep it away from my lion!” He growled playfully as he rocked the cutout cat, making it walk toward the zebra.

“You’re going to smear the paint,” Alex giggled.

“Oh!” Zaiman cringed and gingerly set the lion back on its wooden paws, balancing it on the triangle prop attached to its back. He placed his hands on his thighs, then looked around the room from his kneeling position.

“I believe that completes the menagerie,” he said. “What of the treasure chests?”

“Bassam took them out already,” Alex told him. “He’s setting them up around the tents.”

“Excellent. Are we missing anything?”

“Well, let’s see. We’ve the cutout animals, the tents, the treasure chests, the lanterns, the cushions…I don’t think we’re missing anything.”

“The food!” Zaiman exclaimed. “We can’t have a birthday picnic without food! Dabir! Oh, he can’t hear me… Excuse me.” Zaiman rushed off to the kitchen, leaving Alex laughing behind him.

She sighed happily and looked over the animals that they had worked so hard to paint: camels and ostriches, elephants and cheetahs—every exotic animal an adventurous girl could ask for. Zaiman could have easily hired an artist to do the work, but Alex was happy that he hadn’t. Of all the preparations she and Zaiman had made in secret that week, this was her favorite.

Tension had lingered between them from the night of Amia’s fevered panic. Even when they were discussing things as simple as a birthday menu, there had still been an undercurrent of what-if, a stiff propriety which felt like an over-correction of attitude. For several days, it seemed that Zaiman was afraid to be friendly, as if the slightest crack in his proper façade would allow the romance of that stormy night to wash them both helplessly away.

It wasn’t until he brought the animal cutouts home that they began to reestablish their candid, comfortable banter. It had taken two parrots and a rhinoceros, but eventually, they had rediscovered easy conversation and honest laughter.

“Leave it to me to owe my happiness to a bunch of inanimate animals,” Alex giggled to herself. “Much obliged, rhino, old pal.”

The purple rhino smiled benignly back at her. She wondered suddenly how they were ever going to haul all of these cutouts all the way to the chosen picnic place.

She didn’t have to wonder for long. A few moments later, Bassam returned with what appeared to be a sleigh.

“Pile them on, dear,” he told her with a twinkle in his eye. “Is everything else prepared?”

“He’s hassling Dabir now,” Alex told him with a grin. “And Amia should be wrapping up her lessons in about twenty minutes. How much time do you need us to buy you?”

“Hmm,” he considered, pursing his lips at the pile of animals. “Ten minutes out, twenty to set up—delay her just long enough to change into adventurer clothing, and all will be ready.”

“Perfect,” Alex said with a grin as she slid the last of the animals onto the sleigh. “You’re the best, Bassam.”

“I am, I am,” he agreed with a twinkle in his eye. He waved at her as he pulled the sleigh out the door. Curious, she followed him, and watched as he harnessed a camel to the sleigh.

Surprised into a burst of laughter, Alex waved at Bassam until he disappeared around the palace wall.

“Where is my menagerie?” Zaiman asked as he walked into the room behind her.

“A dastardly scoundrel has absconded with it,” Alex told him in a dramatic tone. “We need a fearsome explorer to go get it back!”

“I know of one,” Zaiman said, playing along. “And as soon as she’s finished learning her subtraction, she will save the day!”

Alex giggled, delighted and amused. Zaiman was as much fun to play pretend with as any child was, and he seemed to enjoy it as much as she did.

Her sister had always chastised her for her taste in men, telling her that they were invariably immature, but Alex couldn’t help it. Sure, there needed to be a balance, and it wouldn’t do for a grown man to spend his whole day playing when there were bills to be paid…but if a man couldn’t get silly with her once in a while, she would grow bored with him.

Zaiman seemed to be the perfect combination of silly and serious, and it was becoming a problem. Alex had gone to sleep every night for the last week fantasizing about what it would be like to be falling asleep beside him, and imagining insane scenarios where he followed her across the world only to profess his love to her.

It would never happen, and she knew it, so she tried to restrain her fantasies to the realm of possibility. A stolen kiss on a rainy night, cuddles on the couch during one of their movies—the next level of flirtation, nothing more.

Amia’s voice echoed through the house, shaking her from her thoughts. Grinning at Zaiman, Alex raced through the art room to greet her.

“There’s the birthday girl!” she called, opening her arms.

Amia launched into them and hugged her tight, then pulled back with a scowl.

“What’s wrong, Amia?” Alex asked, concerned.

“It isn’t right to have lessons on my birthday,” Amia scolded. “No lessons should be a birthday present.”

“We’ll be sure to take that under advisement for next year,” Zaiman said wryly as he scooped Amia up into a hug. “But for now, we need to get you changed.”

“Changed? For what?”

“For exploring!” Zaiman told her, swinging her through the air, making her shriek with startled delight. “We’re going on an adventure!”

Amia’s eyes lit up, and Alex felt a twinge of worry.

“A real adventure? Oh, boy!” Amia raced to the stairs, calling for Alex to follow.

Before long, they were all dressed for an adventure in the dunes. Zaiman led Alex and Amia to the stables, where two intricately-adorned camels were waiting for them. One had a double saddle, and was draped in purple, with enough plastic swords and saddle bags to please even the most extreme adventurer. The other was put together much the same way, but in reds and golds rather than purple.

“Oh!” Amia exclaimed. “They’re perfect!” She clasped her hands, her eyes glowing with excitement.

“We aren’t leaving yet,” Zaiman said playfully. “You see, Amia, where we’re taking you is top secret. You’ll have to wear this.” He pulled out a purple silk scarf lined in white velvet and tied it around her eyes. Then, he lifted her onto the camel, and she squealed in discombobulated surprise.

“But Papa, I’ll fall!”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Alex told her. “I won’t let you fall.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Zaiman helped Alex onto the camel, lifting her by her waist. Her heart skipped a beat as she met his eyes, and his rakish little smile made her feel as if she would fly to pieces. She caught her breath again as she settled into the unfamiliar saddle and wrapped her arms around Amia.

“Um…Zaiman?” Alex asked, gazing apprehensively at the camel’s neck.

“I will lead you,” he said with a grin. “And tomorrow, lessons for Alex.”

Amia giggled, and Alex laughed with her.

“See, you aren’t the only one who needs them,” Alex whispered to her.

“It’s impossible,” Amia whispered back. “Camels are impossible.”

“Now, Amia, is that a word we use?” Alex admonished gently.

“No,” Amia said with a sassy tone. “But they are.”

Alex chuckled, and Zaiman grabbed her camel’s reins. They left through the walls to the rear of the palace, out into the wild desert beyond.

Having only seen it from the balcony before, Alex’s eyes were big as saucers behind her sunglasses, taking it all in. Mile after mile of glittering sand spread out in three directions, as far as she could see. They rose and fell like the waves on the ocean, frozen in mid-swell. It moved, she knew, when the winds were high or the plates shifted, just like the sea. It astounded her that people had managed to carve a civilization out of these ever-shifting sands, obstinately pushing them back, again and again.

The high walls around Al-Jerrain suddenly made more sense. She had erroneously assumed that they were there as protection from invaders, much like the Great Wall she had visited in China. Now, though, she saw that was not necessarily the case. These walls were the difference between a lively, blossoming country and a fossil buried in the sand.

Mirages glistened on the horizon, blurring the line between sand and sky, making her crave a long dip in the pool. More than once she had to glance over her shoulder, just to reassure herself that the palace was still there, that she was not lost in the desert.

Before long, though, the palace fell out of sight behind the dunes, and a thrill of excitement raced through her. Now they really were in the middle of nowhere and nothing—small, arrogant creatures dancing across the treacherous sea of sand. Before her excitement could turn to panic, though, they happened upon an ornate camp, complete with colorful lanterns and billowing white tents.

“Are we almost there?” Amia asked, shifting restlessly on her saddle.

“Almost,” Alex promised her.

Bassam greeted them silently, grinning with pride and anticipation, and led their camels to a trough of water. The animals folded their legs beneath them, coming to rest on the blazing sand. Zaiman leaped down from his own camel before coming over to hers, reaching up to put his strong hands around her slender waist once more.

This time, Alex couldn’t keep the blush from her cheeks. She hoped he would assume it was just the sun, but as his eyes met hers through the glasses, his hands lingered on her waist a little longer than they needed to.

“Are we here?” Amia asked impatiently, breaking the spell.

“We are,” Zaiman told her. He lifted her off of the camel, and she slid into his arms with a squeal. “Princess Amia, birthday explorer extraordinaire…” He pointed her toward the party tents and untied the blindfold. “Welcome to your secret cove.”

Amia gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks as she looked around in wonder. Their picnic had been laid out across a stiff cushion in the center of one tent, as softer cushions surrounded it. In the other, treasure chests overflowed with pretty things and dress-up costumes, enough for everyone three times over. The animals that Zaiman and Alex had painted stood around the camp, looking on with cartoonish smiles. Best of all, four saucer-shaped sleds sat at the top of the dune behind them, glittering invitingly in the sun.

“It’s magic!” Amia exclaimed, clapping her hands. She rushed into one tent and then the other, pointing out all of the pretty and amazing things.

“Excellent work, Bassam,” Zaiman said proudly, clapping a brotherly hand on Bassam’s ample shoulder. “Excellent work.”

They hid from the sun in the tents, eating and drinking gaily, letting Amia play leader.

“So, what kind of adventure is this, Amia?” Alex asked, her eyes sparkling.

“I am Amia the Terrible!” the little girl declared. “And you are all my bandits. Our chests are filled with stolen treasure from the fairy kingdom. Oh! But Papa, you can’t be a bandit.”

“I can’t? Why not?” Zaiman asked with a put-on pout.

“Because,” Amia said, pulling a blue silk gown from the trunk and dumping it in his lap. “You are the fairy princess, come to steal back your treasure!”

Alex laughed, and Zaiman grimaced in acquiescence.

Amia managed the dressing up, giving Alex a pirate skirt and a roguish vest, topping the ensemble with an eyepatch. Bassam made a convincing bandit, while Zaiman was surprisingly handsome as a fairy princess. When they were all decked out to Amia’s satisfaction, Zaiman went away to prepare for his role.

He attacked the bandit’s hideout with a plastic sword, and Amia and her team valiantly fought him to the point of surrender. Once he had taken a knee, Amia informed him that she would be recruiting him to her team.

“You have convinced me, Amia the Terrible,” he said as he bowed dramatically. “No fairy has ever evoked a more fearsome loyalty. My fairy sword is yours alone.”

“That girl could sell sand to an Al-Jerrain housekeeper,” Bassam chuckled to Alex in his low, rolling voice.

“She could,” Alex agreed. “And they would thank her for the opportunity.”

Amia overheard them and shot a wicked grin over her shoulder. Outside, the sky glowed crimson in the early evening.

“If it pleases her Highness, I shall light the lanterns,” Bassam said with a deep bow.

“It pleases her,” Amia said regally. Excitement struck her, and she was all child again in an instant. “Oh! Does this mean we can sled now?”

“It does indeed!” Zaiman told her. “If you would allow me to change. I would not want to fill these pretty petticoats with sand.”

“All right,” Amia said with a calculating nod. “But keep the tiara, if you please.”

Zaiman did so with good humor, and Alex could have sworn she had never seen a happier birthday girl. She and Zaiman held Amia’s hands between them as they climbed to the cusp of the dune. Alex considered the steep slope and shallow saucers with more than a little doubt.

“It’s easy,” Amia told her. “You just kneel down…” She demonstrated. “Grab hold…and flop!” The momentum of her little body on the front of the sled tipped her down the dune. She screamed in playful terror as she slipped and spun over the sand.

Alex shot a glance at Zaiman, who winked at her before following Amia down.

“Well, it would make an interesting obituary,” Alex murmured to herself as she knelt on the saucer.

“If I can survive, you can survive,” Bassam said beside her, making her jump.

“Bassam! You shouldn’t creep up on people that way,” she laughed.

“How else will I hear what people really think?” Bassam asked with a grin.

He flopped down on his own saucer and hurtled down the dune, twice as fast as Zaiman. Zaiman and Amia cheered him on from the bottom, then called encouragement up the dune at Alex.

“All right,” she shouted back. “Here we go!”

It was as new as it was familiar. Sand hissed beneath her, smooth and slippery, making every tense muscle a trigger which sent her spinning this way and that, skittering across the dune like a smooth stone on water. It felt like sledding on snow, only more intense; the sand didn’t pile up in front of her to slow her down, but instead skittered away ahead of her, making her descent faster and faster until she screamed.

She came to a sudden stop at the bottom, as the front of her sled buried itself in the sand.

“Was it fun? Did you like it? Will you go again?” Amia asked all at once.

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Alex laughed as she caught her breath. “Let’s go!”

The sky swirled from red to orange to purple as they slid down the dune again and again. Soon, the only lights came from the soft glow of the lanterns around their camp and the rippling blaze of the Milky Way above.

“Come now, adventurers,” Zaiman said as the four of them dragged their sleds to the top of the dune for the last time. “Time to return to civilization before the desert freezes.”

Amia drooped, which Alex had expected. She had had a long day full of fun, and it was past her bedtime. She hugged her knees to her chest as Zaiman and Bassam packed up the camp, looking sadder and sadder with each passing moment. Unable to let that stand, Alex grabbed a sweet treat from one hamper and slid a lantern wick into it.

“When I was growing up, no birthday was complete without a birthday wish,” she said, lighting the wick. “Here you are, Amia the Terrible. Make a wish and blow it out.”

Amia’s lip quivered and her big eyes filled with tears. Zaiman paused what he was doing and watched intently as Amia hesitantly formed words.

“I…I wish…” Her voice grew husky, falling to a near whisper. “I wish I was a real explorer.”

She blew the wick out with force, drenching the two of them in darkness. As Alex’s eyes adjusted, she saw Amia scrubbing the tears from her cheeks. She met Zaiman’s eyes over the girl’s head, and he looked away quickly, frowning at the lanterns he was packing away. If guilt had a face, Alex thought, that would be it.

Their treasures packed on camels and stacked on the sleigh, the four of them traveled back to the palace in silence. Amia leaned heavily against Alex’s chest, and Alex held her firmly. By the time they reached the stable, Amia was nearly asleep. Their camel knelt beside a small bench, and Alex was almost relieved that Zaiman didn’t have to help her down this time—not that she wouldn’t have enjoyed his touch, but she wouldn’t be able to focus on Amia properly if her mind was full of Zaiman’s guilt.

“Say good night, Amia,” Alex told her as she helped her off the camel.

“Good night, Papa,” Amia said, kissing him. “Good night, Bassam.”

“Good night, Amia the Terrible,” Bassam said affectionately, hugging her. “Happy birthday.”

Zaiman merely kissed his daughter and sent her to bed with a small, sad smile. Alex stuck to an abbreviated version of their routine, struggling to keep Amia awake through the barest necessities of bed time.

“Did you have a good day?” Alex asked her as she tucked her into bed.

“It was good,” Amia said unconvincingly.

“Not great though, huh?”

Amia shrugged, avoiding Alex’s gaze.

“When you were growing up, and you made birthday wishes, what did you wish for?” Amia asked.

“Oh gosh, let me think… I wished for a pony one year. I wished to be a mermaid another year. I think when I turned seven, I wished for a pair of light-up moon shoes.” Alex laughed at the memory. “They were the silliest looking shoes in the world, but all my friends wanted them, and I wanted to be the first to get them.”

“Did you?” Amia asked.

“I sure did! They were the very first present I opened. My friends were so envious, they were absolutely green.”

Amia smiled briefly, and Alex had the distinct impression that she was being indulged by the tiny person.

“I had friends one time,” Amia said sadly. She yawned, making her eyes water. “I wish I had friends at my party.” Her eyes fell closed a moment later, and as she drifted off to sleep, she blew out an imaginary candle.

Alex’s throat tightened as tears prickled the corners of her eyes. She dropped a kiss on Amia’s forehead.

“I wish you did, too,” she whispered.

Turning off the light, Alex crept out of the room, her heart hurting. No kid should have to live like this, with no one but adults to play with. It struck her suddenly that this was why Zaiman was so good at being playful; he and Bassam were the only friends Amia had. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t healthy, and as the girl’s caretaker, it was Alex’s responsibility to address it.

“Even if it upsets him,” she told herself firmly.

To boost her confidence, Alex recalled the last time she was forced to call an employer out on the way they chose to raise their kids. Eustace, the eldest terror of her last position, had been utterly undisciplined. That didn’t bother her so much; she was skilled at the art of subtle attitude correction. It was his unfettered access to sugar which rankled her. The boy would eat dessert five times a day, and every time he did, he would be in a terrible mood within an hour. The one time that his parents were gone on holiday for the week and she restricted his sugar, his mood and behavior drastically improved.

“This is more complicated than a little sugar,” she murmured as she walked through the palace toward the drawing room. “But no less important.”

She found Zaiman alone in the dark drawing room, sitting alone beneath a single dim lamp, gazing pensively into the dark. He looked up when she came in, and straightened.

“May I have a word with you?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, rising to his feet. “I was just about to get some air. Join me?”

The moon was gloriously full, washing the garden in cool blues and brilliant whites. Alex breathed the clean air for a moment, steadying her nerves.

“Can—”

“I—”

They both spoke at once, and Alex laughed uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry, go ahead,” she said.

“I was going to ask if I could offer you a drink,” he told her. “I find myself craving a nightcap this evening.”

“In a moment, yes,” she said hesitantly. “I want a clear head to say what needs to be said.”

“Sounds serious.”

“About as serious as sitting in the dark lost in thought,” she teased gently.

“Ah,” he breathed. “And for the same reason, I suppose.”

“Probably,” she admitted. “I want to talk to you about Amia.”

The Sheikh nodded, silently inviting her to continue.

“First, I…I understand why you have decided to raise her this way. If you were disowned by your family, it would hurt her as much as it would hurt you.”

“Yes,” Zaiman agreed. “Along with losing all contact with the family, we would be cast out of the palace. I would have my own wealth to live on, but Amia would be uprooted. We would lose Bassam—he is like a grandfather to her, but he is employed by the family, and is bound to do their bidding.”

Alex winced.

“That does make things more difficult. Your heart is obviously in the right place, Zaiman. You want the best for your daughter; that much is clear. But…having said that…” She trailed off, sucking in a deep breath.

“Please, continue,” he said softly.

“She needs freedom,” Alex blurted out in a rush. “She needs friends. She needs to see the world, to explore, to satisfy her curiosity about the world. She sees all of these wonderful things in movies, and she hears about all of these adventures that other people have. I mean…do you realize that, to her, simply going to school sounds like an adventure? To be taught in a class with kids her own age, to share experiences with her peers, to…live?”

Alex paused for a moment, collecting herself. She turned to meet his eyes directly, and injected a firmness into her tone.

“She needs that, Zaiman. The energy she’s building up bouncing off the palace walls is going to come to a head someday, and you will lose all control of her. I’ve seen it happen, and it’s tragic for everyone involved.”

“Tragic?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “Kids who don’t see how other people interact with the world have no frame of reference when they inevitably find themselves out in it. They’re like children in teen bodies, unaware of how society works on a ground level. They’re like lambs in a wolf den, defenseless and oblivious. They are chewed up and spat out in the blink of an eye, and they spend the rest of their lives trying to pull themselves back together.”

Her voice trembled with her conviction, earning her a sharp look from Zaiman.

“You speak from experience,” he said.

“My uncle,” Alex told him, shaking her head. “My grandparents were very strict. Incredibly strict. They raised my mom and her siblings on a farm in the middle of nowhere, worked them from dawn to dusk, and taught them how to read and write. They never left. My uncle was the oldest, and when he was eighteen, he decided to strike out on his own.”

She shook her head miserably.

“He struck out, all right. He was addicted to something nasty within a month. When he didn’t come back, my grandparents fell apart. They lost the farm, moved to the city, and sent my mother and aunts to public school. It was a culture shock, apparently, but my mother was the youngest and was better able to adjust than her older siblings.”

“Your uncle…did he ever reappear?”

Alex nodded.

“He did, about twenty years later. I was six, I think. Playing in my front yard when this strange man showed up, asking for my mother by her full name. I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but there was a lot of crying and hugging. He stayed with us for a while, and he finally got a job working in fast food. He’s been doing that ever since.”

Zaiman was quiet for a long time, gazing out over the garden.

“I would like to pretend that those things could never happen to Amia,” he said finally. “But without the structure of the family, who could say? We would be lost without all of this. I would be lost without it.”

He sighed, dropping his head and shaking it.

“I am ashamed. Ashamed of myself, of my father and brother, ashamed of the whole situation.” He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with emotion, and shoved a hand through his hair. “Most of all, I am ashamed that I am so dependent on my family that I am terrified to risk their fury. I do not know how I would survive without the privileges I was born into.”

He paused again, struggling with the words which strained against his throat.

“I know that makes me a weak man, and a weak father. You must think me a terrible parent.”

Moved, Alex placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t,” she said gently. “I think you’re a wonderful, loving father. You’re just a little lost and trying to do the right thing.”

He turned to her, and the raw emotion on his face stole her breath away. He closed the distance between them with half a step and touched her face, gazing deeply into her eyes.

Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers. Electricity coursed through her body, igniting her soul, paralyzing her. His lips were as soft and warm as they looked, trembling against hers.

The power of it stunned her, and as he pulled away, she couldn’t help but stare. Her head buzzed with the aftershocks of his kiss, making her dizzy. He shot her a mortified glance, then his face turned to stone.

“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly, then turned on his heel and strode away, muttering under his breath about misreading signals.

Slowly, Alex regained control of her senses, floating one hand up to brush fingers across her tingling lips.

“Oh, my Sheikh,” she breathed. “What’s the signal for ‘more’?”