When her head hit the pillow, Yvonne assumed she would slip into blissful unconscious immediately. Instead, she lay awake, tossing and turning as images of Zadid sneering at her in disgust washed through her head, torturing her.

What if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life, putting her job at risk in the process? Was she crazy to approach Zadid this way, effectively ambushing him without any warning? Was the party even going to happen? Just because Zadid said that it was held in the ballroom every year didn’t mean that it would be the next day, did it? What if she showed up and he wasn’t there? Would she even be able to reach him if he was?

Did one reach a royal so easily?

Images of herself exhausted, rejected by the Sheikh, and forced to raise three babies alone had her stomach aching until the early hours of dawn. Finally, sometime before sunrise, she managed to fall into an uneasy slumber, her dreams just as convoluted as her waking thoughts.

Hours later, the bright sunlight beaming into her room woke her. Yvonne’s head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton balls. She rubbed her eyes as she looked at the clock, seeing that it was already well into the afternoon. Taking her time, she sat up slowly, allowing her body to adjust to the new time as she stretched, feeling slightly better after a few hours of sleep.

She stood, then, realizing she hadn’t changed since she’d arrived. Stripping down, she stepped beneath the stream of a hot shower, feeling a million times better afterwards. She made quick work of brushing her teeth and dressing in fresh clothing before strapping her purse over her shoulder, prepared for whatever came next.

But first, shopping.

Stepping out onto the streets of Abu Algar’s capital city, Yvonne breathed in the scent of salty air and falafel wafting from a cart on the sidewalk. It wasn’t so different a feel from D.C., though the structure of the buildings was totally different. Temples dotted the streets around her, tucked away between a myriad of shops of all kinds. She wished she had time to explore the city a little more—discover the world that Zadid had grown up in.

After all, it would be a part of her children’s heritage, as well.

After walking a few blocks, she managed to find a dress store, opening the door and stepping inside. The door was laden with a series of bells, and their gentle jingle had the saleswoman looking up from a gown she was tailoring.

“Be right with you,” she said in English.

Was Yvonne so obviously out of place? She supposed she was, though she wondered at the woman’s ability to guess her language so easily. After she finished placing her last pin, she stepped away from the beautiful gown she was working on and approached Yvonne.

“Hello and welcome! What brings you into the shop today?”

“Hi there,” Yvonne said, not sure where to begin. “I’m looking for a ball gown for an event tonight.”

“Tonight! That is short notice,” she woman said, glancing around at her shop as she thought about what she could find for her customer.

“I know, I’m sorry. This was all a bit unexpected but…” her mind racing, she figured she’d see if she could gather some information from the woman. “I was given a last-minute invitation to Sheikh Zadid’s birthday party tonight, and I don’t have a thing to wear that’s appropriate.”

At the mention of the party, the woman’s eyes lit up, and Yvonne knew she had struck gold.

“You got an invite to one of the most fashionable parties of the year? Oh, to be in your shoes! But no matter, for I will get you the finest dress to wear, and you can wear a pair of shoes from me, too!”

She clapped her hands, and Yvonne couldn’t help but relish in her glee. Now she knew that the Sheikh’s birthday party would be taking place, and everyone knew about it. She just had to find a clever way to get inside.

The saleswoman gestured for her to follow as she walked down a line of dresses, pulling out at each one as she compared it to Yvonne’s coloring and body type.

“You have a great shape, if you don’t mind me saying so,” the woman commented, and Yvonne blushed.

“Thanks. It won’t be staying this nice for long, I imagine.”

The woman turned and looked at her, her eyes dropping to her belly.

“Pregnant?” she guessed.

Yvonne nodded.

“That’s wonderful! I understand why you wouldn’t have a dress on hand, then. You’ll want something that still flatters as your belly grows. Also something that brings out that extraordinary color in your eyes. I think I have just the thing!”

She dashed across the shop and pulled out a sage green gown that flowed delicately from an empire waist. It was the perfect dress to hide the bump if she wanted to, but were she to press the fabric down, her truth would be easy to reveal.

She imagined she might need that ability, when the time came.

The woman handed her the dress and guided her toward a posh dressing room, complete with lavender-colored wallpaper, sconces, and bottled water on a little side table. Feeling parched, Yvonne drank some of the offered water before firmly closing the lid. If she spilled any on the dress before she bought it, she would be out far more than the price of one gown.

With her job in peril and three babies on the way, that wasn’t something she wanted to do.

She slid the gown carefully over her head, zipping up the back as far as she could on her own before she had to step out to let the saleswoman help her. Turning, she held her hair up as the dress was zipped comfortably up her back before she allowed her tresses to fall back over her shoulders.

“Let’s get you the full view,” the woman said, gesturing toward a small podium surrounded by mirrors.

Yvonne stepped up on bare feet, taking a good, hard look at her pregnant self for the first time.

In spite of the circumstances, she really was carrying the babies well. Her face had that pregnancy glow that everyone always talked about, and in the dress, she was positively shining, even as her insides roiled with nerves.

“You are a vision, if you don’t mind me saying so,” the woman said.

“Thank you so much. This is perfect!”

“Not yet it isn’t,” the woman replied, dashing off to another part of the store.

Rows and rows of shoes were lined up, and she parsed through them as she worked to find the right pair.

“What size shoe are you, miss?” she called out as she searched.

“Seven,” Yvonne replied.

A moment later, the woman appeared with a box, opening it up to Yvonne. Inside, a pair of sage-colored flats sat simply, if not stunningly, in the box.

“You’re pregnant; you should wear comfortable shoes. Besides, it’s unlikely that anyone will see them, given the length of your gown.”

Although she had been disappointed at first not to see a pair of glamourous heels, Yvonne realized the practicality of the woman’s choice. If she needed to get in and out quickly—if her worst nightmares came to life—she would want to be able to get out fast. The chances of doing that in heels were slim.

She removed the shoes from the box and slid them on. They were by far the most comfortable pair of shoes she had ever worn. It was like walking on a contoured pillow!

“Wow, these are outstanding!”

The woman’s eyes were earnest as she watched Yvonne’s expression carefully.

“Do you really think so? I designed them a few months ago, but no one is picking them up. If you wear them at the ball tonight, and maybe flash them just once, the world might know my brand, and I could live out my dream as a major designer.”

Yvonne stepped down from the podium and took the woman’s hands in her own.

“What is your name?”

“Iman Al-Abi.”

“Well Iman Al-Abi, if I can help you further your career, you bet I will do it. You have been so gracious and helpful, and I won’t forget it. I’m Yvonne, by the way.”

Iman’s eyes lit up as she squeezed Yvonne’s hands in appreciation.

“Thank you, Yvonne! To think I got the chance to send someone to the Sheikh’s celebration with my clothing!”

“Did you design the dress as well?”

Iman nodded.

“Everything you see, I have created. I’ve done pretty well for myself, but I want to do so much more.”

“I’m sure you will. This is absolutely perfect. Let me just get dressed and then I can pay you.”

Iman shook her head.

“If you promise to say my name somehow at that party, that will be payment enough.”

“Iman, that’s crazy…” Yvonne protested, but Iman put up her hands.

“I won’t take a penny, unless you somehow don’t have a way to get my brand mentioned. If that happens, then you can send me a check,” she said with a small smile.

Yvonne couldn’t help herself. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe the exhaustion, but the woman’s kindness had tears cascading down her cheeks. Iman grabbed a tissue and handed it to her.

“Do you have anyone to do your hair and makeup for the event?” Iman asked.

Yvonne shook her head.

“I don’t. This was all quite last minute,” she explained, and Iman’s grin widened.

“You do, now. I can do all of your prep work, and then you’ll be the most stunning woman at the party. I guarantee it!”

Yvonne laughed as Iman grabbed her hand and led her to a room in the back, where she had a small studio chair and a mirror set up.

“You do all of this?” Yvonne asked, her voice filled with wonder.

Iman nodded.

“I dabble. Originally, I used to do stage makeup for the local theater company, but after I apprenticed for the costume design department, I knew where my true passion lay. Still, makeup and hair will always have a place in my heart. I love transforming women into beautiful creatures.”

“I’m so glad I walked into this store!” Yvonne gushed, plopping into the chair.

Iman turned her to face the mirror, their smiling faces reflecting back at them as she turned on all the lights.

“Me, too.”

The next few hours were spent in happy chatter, as Yvonne and Iman became close friends instantly. Iman worked to give her new friend an elfin, earthy look to match the coloring of her gown.

“This is actually all the rage in Abu Algar right now. Everyone is into nature, spirits, fairies and the like.”

“It looks awesome,” Yvonne said.

“Just wait until we get your hair all sorted,” Iman replied, heating up a curling iron.

By the time she was finished, Yvonne looked as though she had walked out of a fairytale forest, a princess by any other name. Iman had her stand back up on the podium one more time so they could get an all-around look at her.

“Perfect! Absolutely perfect,” Iman exclaimed, her hands clasped together in glee.

Yvonne’s eyes were shining as she stared at her reflection, hopeful that she would be able to stun Zadid into finally talking to her. She thought she felt a little tingle in her stomach, like her babies were somersaulting in agreement, and her heart warmed.

Iman looked at the clock on the wall and jumped.

“Yikes! We’ve used up all of your time. Quick, let’s get you a cab to the palace.”

She bustled outside and whistled loudly for a cab, which pulled over instantly. Yvonne grabbed her purse and stepped out, wrapping Iman in a quick hug.

“Thank you so much, for everything!”

“Have fun tonight, my friend. I will keep an eye out for our names in the papers!”

“I will do my best to get them there,” Yvonne promised.

Sliding carefully into the cab, she waved one last time to Iman as she pulled away in the direction of the glowing, golden palace.

There would be no turning back now.